Insult #23: The Paragraph

“Your soul is an appalling dump heap

Overflowing with the most disgraceful

Assortment of deplorable rubbish

Imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots.”

-       ThurlRavenscroft, AKA “Tony the Tiger”

Hold up. All this time Tony the Tiger was the one dissing the Grinch? Why did I not know this? If most people don’t know this, shouldn’t they know this? How did Mr. Grinch and Tony the Tiger ever cross paths?

Maybe Tony was hanging out in a Who diner having a bowl of cereal. Mr. Grinch, reeking of whiskey and wet dog, entered the diner and instead of having a seat at the grinch counter, he had the audacity to sit at a Who booth.

Tony had just escaped captivity from a band of poachers who specialized in the illegal buying and selling of talking animals. When he was out on his own, sick, tired, and hungry, the Whos welcomed him into Whoville. He was forever grateful for their help, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to sit idly by while some grinch rubbed his moldy green ass into a Who bench.

Tony’s tiger blood boiled. He could smell the Grinch from across the diner. He got up from his table and marched over to the Grinch. “Get your splotchy green ass outta that booth.”

“Fuck you,” said the Grinch.

“Listen here you fucking rotter, it’s a not a grrrrreat idea to curse at a tiger.” Tony picked Mr. Grinch up by the fur, but only held on for a second before he dropped the Grinch to the ground. “How can your fur be so prickly, yet so greasy?”

Mr. Grinch flashed a termite-ridden smile then punched Tony in the crotch. Mr. Grinch stood up and smacked the hostess on the ass before he walking out the door.

Tony the tiger lay on the diner floor with his hands cradling his balls. “Damn you, Mr. Grinch. You are so foul.”

Tomorrow “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” is coming on television. I’m going to watch that thing like it’s the Zapruder film to see if I can find any signs that Tony the tiger was hanging around Whoville somewhere.

Loyal reader, sole commenter, and misguided life veteran Earl wrote:

I'm going to have to check your mother's family tree to see if you're related to the sotty rotter! You're beginning to sound like the sympathetic parent who, after his son commits some unthinkable crime, explains how he's just "misunderstood."

When does the "Whos are unfair to the Grinch" campaign start? How many have signed up for the Million Man March on Whoville? Have you sent out membership applications for the GLBT coalition (Grinch Lovers Belying Truth)?

            - Earl

Whoa. Calm down Sir. My father may be a sotty rotter, but not that sotty rotter. While it is true that there have been moments in which I may have provided some rationale for Mr. Grinch’s actions or state of mind, I’m far from being in position to organize a Million Grinch March. I happen to agree that the Grinch’s soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots. No matter how much you’ve been beaten down in life, you can’t go around lying and stealing from kids. The only people that do that are people with mangled up souls. But the Grinch is a sot, you know? He gets all sotted up and just loses control. Hopefully he can get some help, get his life together, and meet a nice grinch lady. Maybe someone like this (if you plan on clicking on this link, just fast-forward to the 44:30 mark to see the female grinch. Her name is Grinchina, and at the end of Keenan’s riff about her, I think he says, “The Grinch that stole my boner.”)

I’ll admit, I like every insult in the song just a little bit more now that I can picture Tony the tiger coming up with them because he has beef with the Grinch. However, even if I didn’t have that bit of information, I’d still like this insult. It’s long, it’s true, and it would probably hurt the Grinch’s feelings. Just because he’s a smelly mean drunk, doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish for a good soul. Instead, his soul is the worst combination of trash you can think of, twisted and mashed together into a sickening knot. That’s a real cold thing to say Tony, but I don’t blame you. If I were you and the Grinch punched my sack, I’d bring the insult pain too. Or I’d just use my tiger claws to rip his sack off. Why are you even bothering with the insults when you could just tiger up and rip the Grinch’s sack off? Frosted Flakes made you soft, son.