Transcript[]
(Title screen appears)
Foamy: Ok, I don't know about the rest of you. But personally, I love to, fucking, shop on the internet. Anything that allows me to get my fucking shitty stuff without having to deal with actual people. Yeah, it's a good fucking thing. What I don't like, though, are these little ninja tactics they use to persuade you to buy stuff you don't need. "Buy this item with this item and save five dollars. Buy this item and two more items and get a free subscription. Buy this in the next twelve minutes and get free shipping!" These are all standard gimmicks used by companies to get you to spend that extra buck. But the worst gimmick, the worst trick of all, when something is on sale, they cross out the price, and underneath say, "Price too low to show you. Add to cart to see sell price." Now this... this is truly fucked up. Why would they do this? I'll tell you why. And you knew I would. They do this because getting this stuff into your cart is three quarters the purchase. It's a psychological thing. You know you want to see the sell price, so you put it in your cart. So now, it's like you already have it in your cart, you might as well buy it. Kind of like those twinkees that you were going to put back at the supermarket. They were a consideration. You'd never really need them, so you forgot about them. And now, now they're in your house. You gotta keep them out. What are you gonna do, return them? No one likes returning things. 'Cause the return procedure, in person, is annoying. Online, it's excrutiating! "Well, what you have to do is call this customer service robot, press a series of numbers that correlate with the barcode of your item, then wait to be transferred to a representative. This representative then gives you a return number, but you can only use this return number in conjunction with the verification code they send you with an email." That gets registered as spam, and it's gone forever in cyberspace. Know what? I'll just keep the fucking twinkees. Well, at least I don't have to deal with lines. Now, no more lines. Now there are steps. Step one: verify your shopping cart. Create an account. Name, address, phone number, picture, social security, retinal scan, anal scan, and a secure password that needs to be twenty-eight characters. Something simple, you know, that you can remember. On to step two: "Would you like to receive our newsletter?" No. "Would you like to hear about special offers in the future?" No. "Would you like to look at our list of affiliates?" What the fuck for? On to step three: "Did you forget anything?" This is the best. This is the last gasp for them to reach a little deeper into your wallet. So now, you have this giant page of unrelated merchandise to have to scroll through to get to the bottom of, where finally, the checkout button is located. Click! "Would you like to pay for this purchase with our store credit card? Apply now!" No. "Are you sure?" Yes. "If you use our card, you'll save ten percent on this purchase." Huh? Fuck the ten percent! This is the store's way of roping you into a long-term credit card contract with ridiculous interest rates that will have you paying off your twinkees twenty years after you're dead. So, you skip the the twelve-page online credit card application and click on the "Complete Order" button. "Thanks for your purchase. Your order will arrive in four to six weeks." But at least there's no line. (off-screen) Black Friday is racist!
(The ending screen appears)
Foamy: "Enter card." Fuck you!