Remembering Little Timmy


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Teacher: “Okay class, I know it’s been rough since Little Timmy passed away last weekend. Maybe if we talk about it and tell nice stories in his memory, it’ll help with the pain. Does anyone want to share?”

Student 1: [mumbling] “Little Timmy sucked balls.”

Teacher: “Excuse me, Sean, do you have something you want to say?”



Student 2: [timidly] “…Little Timmy always took my Fruit Roll-Ups at lunch. Even the tongue-dyeing ones with the cool tattoos. So I’ve been coloring my tongue myself with scented markers. I guess it works, but it doesn’t taste as good. Or look as good. I wish I had my Fruit Roll-Ups.”

Student 3: [shouting] “He pooped in the urinals!”

Teacher: “Alright, alright, but who hasn’t pooped in the urinals at some point?”

Student 3: “No, Little Timmy was different. He did it every Wednesday at recess before leaving to beat up Shrimp.”

Shrimp (a small and dejected-looking nerd): “And he never washed his hands before beating me up and I got poop all over my polo shirts.”


Teacher: “…I hear you. People can be mean sometimes, but that doesn’t mean they’re all bad! I’m sure Timmy had his good moments. I mean, surely if we think through all our Timmy memories, we’ll find something good?”

(Silence. Then, other students start chiming in)

“Little Timmy used pulled my hair and said ‘Suck my dick, bitchtits!’”
“He used to shoot bunnies with his BB gun and then threaten to use a real gun!”
“He showed up to my bat mitzvah dressed as Adolf Hitler!”
“Fuck Little Timmy.”


Teacher: “…Yeah, you know what? Fuck Little Timmy.”

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