We are here today with Bob, a Bob-omb born about a week ago. The way the Bob-omb lifespan goes, he’s really stinking old. Here he is.

(A Bob-omb walks onstage.)

L: Hello Bob. How are you doing?

Bob: Just fine, thank you.

L: So I hear you’ve been instructed to keep your temper down by your doctor. Tell us about that.

Bob: Yes, as a matter of fact I have. We Bob-ombs have a short fuse, and can explode in someone’s face very easily. To keep the race alive, those of us that survive as long as I have manufacture cannons to make more of us, and those who AREN’T thrown at mole cannons start the process all over again. Ooh… I HATE that Mario. Grr…

L: Calm down! Calm down. No need to get angry. So, how’s life as a Bob-omb?

Bob: Well, it’s quite lonely. Friends and relationships have fights once in a while (which would end in tragedy), and if I get aggravated on a cliffhanger while watching TV, it’ll be the end of me. Man, being highly unstable is so frustrating…

L: So… what do you do in your free time?

Bob: Well, I worked at a cannon factory in Toadwood Forest, and had a nice house in Hollijolli Village, but then the Shroobs took over the factory and destroyed the village, so now I’m homeless and jobless, all because of those stupid little…

L: Ok! Moving on. Is there anything that doesn’t frustrate you?

Bob: Well, that would require me to scroll through every past experience I have had to find out which one is not aggravating, possibly accidentally running over some extremely angering thought and-

L: Maybe not. That’s all the time we have for now, see you next time.

Bob: WHAT?! YOU’RE CUTTING ME OFF?! WHY YOU…

*Hisss….*

L: Oh crud.

Bob: Oops. Goodbye.

BOO-

The screen goes fuzzy, and the speakers cut out. No more knowledge will be drawn from this Bob-omb.

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