How… how did we get here? We were riding on top of the world having grown from a simple street cart to the largest store in the world. But now, now it’s all gone. Everything we built destroyed. How did it happen? How could we have been so foolish to think we could handle that much power?
Now I sit alone here. The rest of the Flixist staff dead or insane. Alec is gnawing off his own leg. Hubert thinks he’s a frog. Geoff jumped off the top of our store when this all begin… and poor, innocent Nathan. He was so new and now. God, they’re all gone and only one man is to blame.
You see we thought he was helping us. Letting us expand our empire while he delivered the news, but that wasn’t the way of it at all. You see it was he who secretly got us drunk last night, that fateful night, and he who introduced us our not-so-legal friends who funded our switch to convenience store salesmen. It was all his evil plan to bring us down after we ousted him last year. Well, it worked. We’re destroyed.
He knew we’d let success go to our head as we rapidly expanded. It wasn’t long before the staff was turning on each other. It started out simple enough as Liz believed that we should serve some healthier foods and Nick guffawed. Who knew that one argument would end with Nick’s head on a pike as The Gang of Liz (as they came to be called) danced around him like some corporate Lord of the Flies ceremony. Of course other splinter cells formed despite my best efforts. For a while there was the Cult of Sean and the Loganians and even a small sect devotely worshiping our pterodactyl award statue. The final battle was pretty bloody. I had no idea we owned so much weaponry, but I suppose I had aggressively pushed the Guns and Swords department to rapidly expand. I regret that decision now as I type this one handed, the other hand lopped off in a Samurai showdown with Thor. There could be only one.
So you win, Jeff Goldblum. This pile of festering wreckage is yours. You’ve destroyed us. Torn us apart and made us turn on each other. There’s no telling what direction Goldblum will take the site in the future, but I can tell you that I will have no part in it. I’m bleeding out. I have not regrets except for trusting Jeff Goldblum. Lesson learned. Goodbye cruel world. I hope for one day we gave you what you wanted: Hot Dog Goslings.