At a certain institution, in an imaginary classroom where learning is supposed to happen, there exists a boy with a title but no function—a boy whose greatest achievement is being a fully remote-controlled experiment in human irritation.
He is known as The Puppet.
But of course, he is not the mastermind here. No, no. That honor belongs to the Puppet Master, an entity so deeply committed to micromanaging stupidity that one has to wonder if they take performance reviews after each failed attempt to be relevant.
And what is the purpose of this puppet? To find any possible way to annoy one particular person. It’s a noble mission, really, if one’s definition of noble includes completely pointless and doomed to fail.
One day, the Puppet Master pulls the thread left, and suddenly—the transformation begins!
The Puppet morphs into an insecure influencer, obsessively checking his reflection in his phone every three minutes. Every. Three. Minutes. What exactly is he looking for? A personality? A spine? A reason to exist? Nobody knows. His front camera is now his most trusted advisor. One can only imagine the intense conversations happening between him and his reflection.
Then, the next day, the Puppet Master pulls the thread right, and just like that—a new behavior unlocks!
Now, every time he answers a question, his eyes land on one unfortunate person. Every. Single. Time. And at this point, the only logical question is:
Are the answers written on their face, or is he secretly in love?
Does he think this person is a human cheat sheet, silently transmitting knowledge through eye contact? Is this some kind of romantic tragedy where he’s trying to confess his admiration through the art of unnecessary staring? Or is he just waiting for them to nod in approval, confirming that yes, indeed, he is an embarrassment to free will?
There are more performances where this came from, but honestly? They don’t even deserve to be mentioned in a joke. At this point, the only rational thing to do is let the puppet do his little dance, hoping that at least—at the very least—he is getting paid for this level of effort.
As for the Puppet Master?
Everyone knows they would never have the audacity to reveal themselves. And truly, one can only hope they never reproduce. Because the last thing this planet needs is more of their DNA contributing to the already overwhelming supply of uselessness.
And so the show continues.
The strings are pulled. The puppet obeys. The audience remains unimpressed.
