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So we told you how our old girlfriend was all naming her spatula Python, right? In case we forgot, here’s the story.

We’re cooking one day, and we’ve got all the spatulas laid out how we always do - there’s maybe 30 or 40 of them. That doesn’t count the collectors item ones - we don’t actually cook with those. Anyway, out of nowhere, she’s like “This one is my special spatula! He cooks better than any of the others!”

We’re all for a good joke, but we also realize these things are non-living objects; one spatula might be stronger or more versatile, but none of them actually know how to cook. Being that we’re intelligent and we know things like this, we say “You’re an idiot. Get the hell out of my face.”

That’s when she hits us with the spatula and screams “Python cooks with 99% precision!”

She starts laughing like this is a circus or a playground or something. From our viewpoint, we’re making sloppy joes, not a standup comedy routine, y’know?

It doesn’t take long for her to see we’re serious, but she keeps pressing. “Python - ”

We grabbed Python right there, stuck his rubber head in the garbage disposal, and shredded that fucker to pieces. We threw it back to her and said, “Cook with 99% precision now, bitch.”

She broke up with us after that. We’re not really sure what happened to her. She was pretty, though. Smart, too. We really should just learn to control our temper, but these are spatulas, man. Spatulas.

Oh, the point of this is we found Python in the basement this morning, and even though he’s all shredded, the thing can seriously cook with a lot of precision.