Blood Cult

Intensely Serious Announcer: And yet, at Shivering Middle School,

whenever a scoundrel snaps the blind girl's bra,

Principal Gail Alonka makes everyone line up and pop a snap

until the culprit can be recognized, identified, found.

Ow! No, that's not him.

-Next. -Ugh! No, not the guy.

Announcer: The welt that developed on her back

represented the price of justice,

a gnarled and righteous cause

the lunch lady was happy to correct.

Blind Girl: Wait. It was her!

She done it all for the meat.

Meat, meat, meat, meat...

Announcer: Then, there was Delmer Gibbons,

who spent years trying to get a job at a suicide hotline,

but he couldn't catch a break in such a competitive field.

So he went freelance.

He waited by the phone for what felt like forever

but was, in fact, much longer.

Delmer's Home Suicide Hotline.

We'll talk about anything, even sex.

This is Delmer. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?

-Hello? -I live alone.

Two weeks ago, I turned my oven on and stuck my head in.

I just wanted the world to go away.

In the back of the oven, I found $9,000,000 in gold.

That money changed my life.

I was suddenly able to afford

the most expensive noose on the market.

When I got it around my neck, the ceiling fell in

and released two kidnapped little girls

being held by a torturer upstairs.

I was hailed a hero.

They vowed to devote their lives to making me happy.

The first thing I asked for

was a cocktail of the 100 most toxic pills available.

When I came to, the doctors broke the news to me --

I'd accidentally invented a miracle drug

that made me more healthy and robust than ever.

They told me they could use my blood to cure cancer.

That night, when I threw myself off the hospital roof,

I landed on the monster who kidnapped those kids.

He had escaped from prison

and was on his way to kill the government.

The government asked me to keep attempting suicide

because of all the good my failures bring to the world.

It makes me so happy

to have a real government see me as useful.

I finally have a reason to live!

I can't bring myself to try again.

Okay, wait, so if you don't want to kill yourself,

then why are you calling me?

This isn't an "I don't want to suicide" hotline.

I can't really keep my line tied up like this!

You're right. I'm sorry.

I'm such an idiot and don't deserve to live.

Now we're talking! Finally, I can do my job.

Okay. Don't do it!

Don't! Don't do it!

I'm so confused.

Let me tell you a little story.

It's about an ordinary teenager who wants to commit suicide.

He decides to write the perfect suicide note.

He works on it day and night,

toiling away on his masterpiece for decades.

After 80 years, publishers hear what he's working on.

There's a bidding war.

He ends up with a huge advance for the note rights.

The media gets wind.

The whole world is waiting for this note to be finished.

He's a major celebrity, invited to all the parties.

Men want to screw him. Women want to be him.

Jesus Christ, goth kids want to eat him.

They make pilgrimages to his mansion.

They climb his gates to peek at him scribbling by candlelight.

Finally, when he's 97, he finishes.

It's time to off himself, but he wants to wait

until the reviews come in, see what the critics think.

Well, it's a hit, universally praised

as the finest work of literature ever produced.

But the public is so furious he didn't go through with it,

they drag him into the street and --

Stick their willies in his mouth?

No. They just leave.

Willies dry.

Everyone went soft, lost interest.

The public was captivated by the promise, the process.

Now that it's just another consumer product

with a UPC code, it loses its mystique.

They start to resent him.

So, to get back at the world, the guy refuses to ever die.

He just goes on living for hundreds of years.

But still, no one cares.

And that's my message to you --

No one cares.

Hello? Hello?

Hello?

Announcer: After that, the calls came rolling in.

Every day was Christmas.

But Delmer never did figure out how to monetize the business.

[ Typewriter clacking, telephone ringing ]

And yet, we know

that when a butterfly flaps it wing in Sheboygan,

it can set into motion a chain of escalating gusts

that eventually results in a hurricane in Bali.

Scientists claim this proves the chaotic nature of our universe.