Everybody needs an enemy in their life. A little yin to their yang, the Mr. Pibb to their Dr Pepper®, the why? to their I don't know; a nemesis to make it worth getting out of bed in the morning. Like Lisa once said, even Maggie has that baby with the one eyebrow. So who/what's living on the other side of your island, disrupting your intramural volleyball schedule, stealing from your coconut cache in the night, thwarting your attempts to organize Tiki Tuesdays, and generally giving purpose to your interminable island incarceration?
I've got one word for you: Webster. And then 5 more words for you: That Bear on The Square. We took a disliking to each other immediately upon meeting back in '04—he scowled down at me from his smug little stool like he was the cock of the walk, and I punched him in the face. Things haven't changed much in the last 5 years, he's still wearing his little hats and I'm still trying to knock his pimp ship back down to size.
Think that picking a stuffed bear as an island adversary is a cop-out? Wrong. And actually, I'm embarrassed for you. It should be obvious by now that the laws of nature are suspended on isolated islands: time travel, phantom lighthouses, coconut-based electronics, reanimation—anything's possible. That bear could be undead, all-powerful, or part frog the minute it sets paw onto my island. And don't act like a omnipotent, sexually mobile, zombie-bear doesn't scare you.
Think that picking a stuffed bear as an island adversary is a cop-out? Wrong. And actually, I'm embarrassed for you. It should be obvious by now that the laws of nature are suspended on isolated islands: time travel, phantom lighthouses, coconut-based electronics, reanimation—anything's possible. That bear could be undead, all-powerful, or part frog the minute it sets paw onto my island. And don't act like a omnipotent, sexually mobile, zombie-bear doesn't scare you.