So my friend sent me this meme and when I saw it I was like
I know YouTube wouldn’t allow it but I feel like if Mr Beast was let loose he would totally do some shit like that.
So anyway, it sparked ideas and I started frantically writing about this gen alpha kid stumbling upon a new Mr Beast video while scrolling way past their bedtime.
Their finger stops short when they see Mr Beast with some weird machine on the thumbnail behind him, and all they know—all they’ve ever known—is excitement. That sudden spike of dopamine at the sight of a brand new video.
They click with those small, sticky fingers that are coated in a thin layer of whatever substance they ate last.
That initial amazement doesn’t wane through the first half of the video, which is a rare occurrence for someone with such a short attention span, but they never expected to see Mr Beast procuring such a large shimmering wheelbarrow of coins for the sole purpose of consumption!
Mummy never lets them eat coins, denies them—deprives them of that tangy taste every time.
Oh of course Mr Beast would do something like this, it’s Mr Beast. He’s so wonderful!
He knows what the people want.
The child doesn’t question, then. Doesn’t look away when that odd machine comes into view finally. Why, it all seems like such an adventure to innocent eyes. Mr Beast is smiling, laughing with such ease, showing that charming set of perfect pearly whites. How could they resist smiling along? Giggling under the covers of the bed they should be long-asleep in.
They smile as the coin man reaches the bed, because Mr Beast is still smiling.
They smile as he is gradually swallowed by that big circle they do not recognise because Mr Beast is laughing.
The machine turns on. They are not smiling anymore.
Mr Beast is still smiling.
How does one describe the abject horror of losing one’s innocence? Their trust, shattered; their worldview torn asunder by the simple fact that the bloody pieces of a man—alive but moments ago—are splattered on the walls, and Mr Beast is still smiling.
He does the outro. The video ends.
The child doesn’t even know if they have it in them to scream…or cry? What should they even do? The iPad clicks as they set it on the nightstand and lie down. They don’t know why, since the sleepy glaze is gone from their eyes. Maybe forever. But it’s all they can do now.
Mr Beast is satisfied, I’m sure, by that frantically climbing like-count. He’s ecstatic, even, at that sudden tsunami of subscribers, as he dips his toes into yet another untapped market.
He knows what the people want.
And unlike so many inferior YouTubers out there, Mr Beast has never cared about collateral.
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