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November 19, 2014

I, like other people, imagine what would happen if I ever meet a celebrity in real life. One time, I imagine what would happen if I saw Will Ferrell along my hiking path in Carlsbad, CA. He was yogging in the opposite direction that I was. I said to him in a casual manner "Hi Mr. Ferrell!". He responded to me by smacking me in the face so hard that I fell to the ground. A nice jagged rock gently broke my fall, and I began to bleed a little. Mr. Ferrell kept on yogging, I am not even sure he even knew he smacked me so hard. I had to get back to reality and not let the imaginary Will Ferrell get to me. A day later, I imagined Will Ferrell ringing my front door. I open the door and he starts to apologize. "I am so sorry for yesterday. To be honest I didn't remember smacking you until I woke up this morning. I thought it was some strange dream or wild imagination that I have." He says. He puts his hand out for me to shake his hand "Friends for life?" He asks me. I put my hand out to shake his. Will Ferrell smack me again, in the face. "DON'T EVER TALK TO ME AGAIN YOU DONKEY RAPING SHIT EATING SPERM BURPING GUTTER SLUT!" And then he runs away again, with me on the ground again. Wondering why bothered to find me. Just to smack me down all over again. I promised to never again imagine meeting Will Ferrell again. A few days later, I was with my son at the park. He enjoys the swings alot these days. Will Ferrell crept back into my imagination again and he waked up to me with fire in his eyes. I wanted to run away, but I couldn't leave my boy swinging on the swing. Mr. Ferrell (I dare not call him Will) said to me with clenched fists "I have a confession to make. I enjoy smacking the crap out of you." And that makes sense. All my life I imagined the reason bad things happen to me was because someone out there enjoyed my suffering. It must have been Will Ferrell all the time. "Look Scott! I am a well respected person. I bring laughter to millions of people. I fund thousands of charities. But I am not good to anyone, unless I smack you." He continued, "I need me some ScottySmacks." He yelled out as he smacked me down to the ground. Everyone at the park looked at me, but did nothing. They didn't want anything to do with Will Ferrell. I wish my imagination thought the same way. Months later, I imagined Will Ferrell creeping up next to me in my sleep. He looked like was awake for days and had dirty clothes. He might have had some withdrawal symptoms from not smacking me around for such a long time. He smacked back to sleep, and I have never seen him since. I hope I never imagine seeing Will Ferrell again. I have heard bad things about him, and my imagination can't take anymore of it. I hope writing about it will release this madman and he can go away forever. Please don't tell Will Ferrell about this article. Thank you for your time Scott

I am afraid of Will Ferrell