Ever since he was a baby spud 🥔, Russ wanted to become a member of the Couch Potato Club. All the best potatoes belonged to the CPC: Big Red, Goldie, Yam… Russ made it his life’s mission to emulate those tates.
First, he worked out. As soon as he got up in the morning, Russ headed straight for the couch. He never got distracted with invitations to the beach or anything like that. He pulled down the shades so he wouldn’t see sunshine, blue skies, and spuds playing on the grass.
Second, he made sure he had everything he needed right next to him on the couch, just like the CPC handbook said to do. Remotes for the TV, cell phone, snacks, and drinks. He left the couch only to use the bathroom.
Third, if anyone asked him for a favor, he’d say he was busy. It was harsh, but Russ knew he had to be tough and relentless to reach his goal.
Finally, he applied for membership, sure he’d get in. He submitted his best selfie, very proud of how he looked like a big fat lumpy tate on his couch. The reply came quickly. Rejection!
Russ was heartbroken. What happened? He called his friend Yam, hoping to get a direct answer.
“Sorry, bro,” Yam said. “But we have video footage of you in the grocery store.”
“But… but… I needed more snacks!”
“A true Couch Potato orders online and has snacks delivered to maximize couch time. It says so on page forty-seven, paragraph three of the CPC handbook.”
“I missed that,” Russ cried. “I’m sorry! May I try again?”
“Nope. You’re banned for life.”
Russ was so depressed he went outside to play in the sun, didn’t watch where he was going, and got mashed by a truck.
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