Winning the Battle Against Internet Trolls: One Thunderous Laugh at a Time – Charlie and Sally 8
Satire Disclaimer
The following is a work of satire aimed squarely at the noble profession of internet trolling — that tireless, unpaid effort to misunderstand jokes, miss the point, and announce boredom like it’s breaking news.
If you’re an internet troll reading this, please know we appreciate your service.
Without you, we’d have to work much harder to find examples of joyless, drive-by commentary to parody.
Please keep in mind my dear internet troll that everything here is fictional, except your tendency to comment before finishing the first paragraph.
If you feel personally attacked, you might want to ask yourself why… but you won’t.
That’s the joke.
Scene: Informer.Digital Break Room
Sally is standing at the counter pouring coffee. Charlie is leaning on the table flipping through his phone.
SALLY: I’m annoyed. I posted my new recipe for Island Chicken and Rice yesterday, and this internet troll just commented, “boring.”
CHARLIE: That’s it? Just boring?
SALLY: Yep. One word.
CHARLIE: Wow. Their critique is even more boring than what they think they’re insulting.
That’s like calling an Aston Martin Vanquish “a car” — technically correct, but zero creativity.
SALLY: Exactly! At least give me “mind-numbingly dull” or “makes paint-drying look like Cirque du Soleil.” Something with flair.
CHARLIE: Just a one word criticism? This internet troll gets the participation trophy of feedback.
You did the bare minimum — congratulations, here’s a gold star in lowercase letters.
SALLY: It’s the kind of insult you’d get from a Magic 8-Ball if it was raised by a beige wall.
CHARLIE: And you know this is the whole personality of most internet trolls.
They’ve never made anything themselves.
Not a blog post.
Not a poem.
Not even an original Facebook status.
Their creative output is “scroll, frown, type a single adjective.”
SALLY: They’re like a food critic who only eats plain oatmeal.
CHARLIE: Or a travel blogger whose most exotic trip was to the end of their driveway.
SALLY: Or a sports commentator who’s never even been picked for dodgeball.
CHARLIE: Exactly! They’ve mastered the ancient art of yelling from the cheap seats.
No pressure, no skill, just… boo.
SALLY: They probably think they’re being brutally honest, but really, they’re just digital hecklers — all the bitterness, none of the substance.
CHARLIE: And if “boring” is the peak of their wordsmithing, I’d hate to see their other reviews.
“Movie: bad. Weather: hot. Birthday: happened.”
SALLY: Honestly, if I ever posted a masterpiece, these online critics would still just write “fine.”
CHARLIE: Yeah, they’re basically the Yelp version of white bread. It’s kind of like criticism, but nobody’s full after reading it.
SALLY: I’m tempted to reply, “Thanks for the feedback — I’ll pass it along to the Department of Pointless Observations.”
CHARLIE: Do it. Then sit back while they spend 45 minutes crafting their comeback… and still only manage one word.
SALLY (grinning): Then I’ll ask them, “Did you use Grammarly or Perplexity to help you craft that comeback?”
Cornelius and Polly enter the break room, each holding a coffee.
POLLY: What are we doing?
CHARLIE: Roasting an internet troll who called Sally’s recipe “boring.”
CORNELIUS: Only “boring”? Oh, I’ve met houseplants with more verbal range.
POLLY: Please — I’ve heard elevator music with more personality.
SALLY (laughing): It’s the battle of the metaphors. Can you one up the last one?
CORNELIUS: Challenge accepted! This internet troll is so dull they could put espresso in a coma.
CHARLIE: Nice. This internet troll is so uninspired, Netflix doesn’t ask “are you still watching” it calls in a wellness check.
POLLY: They’re so bland, white rice calls them “sir.”
SALLY: They’re the human equivalent of a Monday morning email with no subject line.
CORNELIUS: They’re like a lighthouse with a burned-out bulb — technically there, but utterly useless.
POLLY: I’ve seen tax forms with more emotional depth.
CHARLIE: This internet troll could make fireworks feel like a candlelight vigil.
SALLY: If personality were caffeine, they’d be chamomile tea steeped in lukewarm tap water.
CORNELIUS: They’re so empty inside, their echo has an echo.
POLLY: Their life story comes in a free pamphlet… and still feels too long.
CHARLIE: Even C-SPAN would tell them to pick up the pace.
SALLY: They make grass growing look like an Olympic event.
CORNELIUS: Their aura is the sound of an unplugged fridge.
POLLY: If they were any more forgettable, they’d be a suspect in their own crime and still not get picked out of the lineup.
CHARLIE: I’ve met spoons with more edge.
SALLY: Their energy could power a nap.
They all sip their drinks in satisfaction.
POLLY: You know what? These people aren’t even worthy of being called internet trolls anymore.
That almost sounds like it’s giving them status.
We should just tell them they’re C.O.R.N. — Clueless Obnoxious Ranting Nitwits.
SALLY: Oh, I love that. “Hey, congrats, you’re officially C.O.R.N. — no butter, no salt, just bland.”
Mike worked in the radio industry for 35 years which means sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek, satirical, trash talking characters to remind you laughter is good for the soul! Let’s have some fun with entertainment, movies and TV, sports, budget food and games, lifestyle and we’ll get ridiculous.
