Category Archives: Essays

Make America Grimace Again: A Review of Trump’s McDonald’s Commercial

Make America Grimace Again: A Review of Trump’s McDonald’s Commercial

In which Jason Mallory and Chris Alonzo review Donald Trump’s McDonald’s Commercial from 2002

JASON

That’s right, Chris—future President Donald Trump is holding a private meeting with McDonaldland’s arguably dumbest resident Grimace in his office at the top of Trump Tower. He seems to think that Grimace is responsible for McDonald’s pricing and business strategy?!

Introducing The Henchies™ Featuring Jason and Julian

Introducing The Henchies™ Featuring Jason and Julian

This essay was originally performed live at our Disney-themed variety show Scene Missing Presents WALTLANTA

JASON
Hey, Julian! I’m so glad we could finally do a Scene Missing featuring live performances based on our favorite animated characters…the Minions! Scene Minion presents Minionlanta! And I REALLY appreciate you getting your name legally changed to Jul-minion Miniondugno just for the event! People said I was crazy for hiring a Justice of the Peace to stand around in the lobby before the show. People also said I was crazy for making him dress like a Minion.

Letter from the Editor: I Can Clearly See Your Nuts

Letter from the Editor: I Can Clearly See Your Nuts

I want to start by saying that you are the greatest readers who ever lived, even better than the readers who are buried in King Tut’s Tomb. King Tut insisted on being buried with anyone who ever laughed at one of his jokes, so I guess if you laugh at one of my jokes today, and I become a pharaoh, then I’ll probably want to be buried with you in my tomb.

Screeee Hello To My Little Friend!

Screeee Hello To My Little Friend!

JASON

Hey, Bobbin. I am totally ready to start this essay with you, and I am definitely going to stay on topic, so if I start to ramble just give me a good solid jab with your finger! Like a witch jabbing a chubby kid that she’s thinking about putting into a cauldron.

A Burning Shrek Of Fire

A Burning Shrek Of Fire

BOBBIN

Jason, I would love to start this essay, but I cannot concentrate per the bagpipes blaring outside my home office. The second Wednesday of every month, a coterie of elderly men convenes across the street at the Atlanta Burns Cottage, a historic clubhouse replicating Robert Burns’ Scottish childhood abode. Built in 1911, the cottage houses monthly Burns Club meetings, where members celebrate the life and work of this 18th century poet. Chauvinistically per tradition, though, the club only accepts male Burns enthusiasts.

To Coach A Mockingbird

To Coach A Mockingbird

BOBBIN

In summer 2013, Atlanta home values skyrocketed, increasing by 17% on average. My landlord decided to put her house on the market and kick my husband and me out despite our flawless rental history. I arrived home one evening to find all the shades open, my favorite coffee mug broken, and my vibrator lying in the middle of the bedroom floor. Apparently a professional photographer had trudged through the house taking pictures for the online listing. Did the wayward dildo make the bedroom look more peaceful? I don’t understand the artist’s logic.

Ol’ Bighead Strikes Again: On How To Correctly Pronounce “Chipotle”

Ol’ Bighead Strikes Again: On How To Correctly Pronounce “Chipotle”

In which Jason and Atlanta writer/raconteur Randy Osborne discuss the proper way to pronounce “Chipotle.”

Fatality Moves For Beginners: Mortal Kombat At The YMCA

Fatality Moves For Beginners: Mortal Kombat At The YMCA

Derek had never seemed to really notice me before, even though we were in physical science class together. Of course, there was probably a lot about middle school to which Derek hadn’t paid much attention, since he was supposed to have been a couple grades ahead of the rest of us. But everybody knew him. He was the school badass.

The only kid in 8th grade with his license, he was busted the first day he drove to school for having a katana in his back seat. Derek claimed he didn’t mean to bring the sword to school: that he had just forgotten to take it out. This, of course, suggested that in the place where some might casually toss an ice scraper or road atlas, he normally kept a goddamn ninja sword.

Cue The End Of Childhood: On So So Def Records, Alternate Dimensions, And Onion Booty

Cue The End Of Childhood: On So So Def Records, Alternate Dimensions, And Onion Booty

In which Jason and Atlanta writer Brooke Hatfield discuss famous Atlanta Southern hip hop, R&B and bass record label So So Def Recordings.

JASON
Hey, Brooke—and welcome to the first annual Scene Missing So So Def Bass All-Stars Conversation! Let’s meet back here this time every year and talk about So So Def Records, okay? And we’ll make a deal that if neither one of us is married by the time we’re 40, one of us has to marry Jermaine Dupri.

Lust, Caution: The Way We Were

Lust, Caution: The Way We Were

I scan the wall. It’s lined with light bulbs between the rows of magazines, like on a marquee. My eyes land on one of the glossy covers. A woman faces out. She has sandy hair to her shoulders. Her green eyes flash. Her teeth gleam in a broad smile, perfect. She looks like Olivia Newton John.

Back Off, Man—I’m An Ornithologist: My Brief Career As A Teenage Duckbuster

Back Off, Man—I’m An Ornithologist: My Brief Career As A Teenage Duckbuster

He knew he was probably too late when he saw the sparks. Not just sparks, really: massive bolts of machine-made lightning, lashing bullwhips of crackling energy. At least he no longer had to worry about moving with stealth; the doctor was too consumed with the work at hand to notice him, in thrall to a task of equal parts science, black magic, and madness. A hunchbacked servant, his crooked fangs gleaming in the brilliant light, cowered in fear and fascination as the thing, the monster, convulsed under the Promethean energies the doctor had unleashed upon him. An inhuman cry filled the cavernous stone room.

“QUACK!”

Anatomically Correct ALFs In White Cotton Panties: What Happened When I Decided To Build My Own Boyfriend

Anatomically Correct ALFs In White Cotton Panties: What Happened When I Decided To Build My Own Boyfriend

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

I am writing from my soundproof cell in order to ask a favor. It’s nothing too presumptuous – I know better than to wheedle you good people for clemency. They will keep me in this hotbox forever, and that’s fine. I had a good run of things, and I embrace my punishment.