Dad brings in the birthday cake as all of grate's friends and goddess harem sings a specifically non-copyrighted version of the happy birthday song. He places it down at the end of the long table where grate is seated and places it down in front of him. Grate is just about to blow out the candles when he notices that there are far too may of them and that they spell out the word "FUCK". Then Dad plants Grate's head, face first, into cake and holds it there as he speaks to the studio audience.
"Hi, Dad here. Lately, I feel as though we may have been losing sight of our overall goal here. Because, fun as breaking reality is, eventually Grate" He looks down at grate who is struggling to escape, "Will have to go through the trials that mark his Ascension into manhood. And as he is, there are several trials which he is just gonna fuck up like a nymphomaniac fired from a cannon. And while I'm sure he is, right now, learning a valuable lesson about his inability to breathe cake frosting, I feel our time would be better spent being a bit more, oh, I dunno, constructive. AS OPPOSED TO ACTING LIKE SOMEONE REPLACED YOUR BRAINS WITH A POP-A-DICE FILLED WITH RABBIT TURDS."
He pulls grate's head out of the cake by the hair, looks at it in mild disgust and then lets it flop back down into the ruined birthday treat.
"Don't think I can't find you just because I'm fictional."
He points at his eyes then at your eyes then at his eyes and then at your eyes then at his balls and then makes a rude gesture.
"Four left mother fucker!"
Dappertude:3
Cynicismish:5
Businessness:-4
Determinational:8
Survivalous: 6
Sporties:2
Schooliouses:12