Someone’s gotta be last, and this particular last is the high-strung doofus who you just know is gonna believe every fake Facebook post she sees. Where’s the shampoo? Oh, Synclaire drank it because she heard the tea tree oil could kill the ’rona? Cool.
Everything that makes Maxine the MVP of an ensemble — quick wit, acid tongue, do-for-self attitude — is a nightmare for isolation. The only housemate who’d make you stir crazy faster is if you cloned yourself.
Yeah, he’s stuck on himself. Yeah, he’s unwilling to help out around the house. But gotdamn if that voice couldn’t help to wash away ever-present existential dread.
It has to be said: If things break all the way bad and we have to repopulate the planet, might as well make the process as pleasant as possible.
Not only can homeboy build whatever the fuck might be necessary in a time of crisis, but he definitely won’t be the reason you run out of shampoo.
When U-N-I-T-Y is in short supply, go with the cool-ass woman with the entrepreneurial spirit who once it all blows over can write a dope-ass magazine profile about your steadfast bravery in a time of crisis — even if you spent the whole time Lysol-ing your pants.
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