! written by u/gandalf_the_greyjoy on 2014-11-09

Ok, I think I must be going crazy. My family have lived in Willow Creek for generations. GENERATIONS. We're pretty well off, thanks to hard work and sacrifice over the years. I thought I was living a charmed life, with my beautiful wife Bella, and our two wonderful kids. I have a steady job as a freelance writer; everything seemed to be coming up roses.

Then he came. HIM. THIS FUCKING GUY. He moved into a bungalow down the way a couple of weeks ago; no-one had ever heard of this guy, but we all tried to be good neighbours, tried to be friendly. The first warning sign was when we went round to introduce ourselves; he said his name was Ballsack McCumbuckets. Ok. Sure, we're not alien to unusual names here in Willow Creek, but this was taking the biscuit. Obviously, we all just assumed he was an asshole making up a name to fuck with us. But a few days later, his work rang me- they wanted to see if we were friends for some reason?- and it's his ACTUAL NAME. Oh, and his job? Guy's a fucking astronaut. I mean, what the fuck, the kid must be twenty or something. Oh, and literally weeks after moving into that bungalow, he up and moves into the old mansion across the street! That place has been empty for years, no one could afford it, it must have cost like 2 million simoleons!

Anyway, so far he just seems like a lucky asshole, you know, someone you're jealous of for their success, but nothing too out of the ordinary. But THIS GUY. His behaviour is obscene; he rings me every single day asking to hang out. Doesn't he have a job? Doesn't he know I have a job?! And, when I come round, he just hugs me loads and keeps on telling me the same shitty jokes- literally, repeating them one after another, for HOURS. He's useless at the most basic of tasks- he takes hours to make a salad, juggling it around like he's some pathetic clown (he also sometimes wears clown makeup, so maybe this is closer to the truth than I know), and when, he finally makes it, it's fucking shit, and he sometimes just throws it straight in the trash!

And I'm pretty sure he's sleeping with my wife. She leaves to visit him at 9, 10 in the evening. Comes back the next morning, says they had a sleepover and "Woohooed". This is probably some crude euphemism she's just rubbing in my face, but for all I know, "woohooing" might be what he calls it when he sneaks round my house at night, finding flowers and frogs and shit.

And I think he killed Bob Pancakes. He invited him round for a swim. Last anyone fucking saw of him. I would call the police, but we don't seem to have any anymore.

I don't know what to do with my life now. I think I'm just going to go in a corner, cry, shout and wet myself.