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the hair. the frames. zuck entering his attempt at a woody allen arc. allen successfully engaged in ethically (and occasionally legally) dubious relationships with numerous women, finally settling on his ex wife's adopted daughter. the problem is zuck has no game. women recoil instinctively from him

there is only one brutish and horrifying game zuck is capable of playing - the game of death played out within his labyrinth beneath the hawaiian jungle compound he had built and excluded from all satellite mapping services. donning the minotaur's fetid visage he pursues his victims in wanton murder

THE MINOTAUR IS A FUCKING DORK. A FUCKING DORK. HIS INTENDED VICTIM IS LAUGHING AT HIM BECAUSE HE LOOKS RIDICULOUS IN THOSE GLASSES. SHE GASPS FOR BREATH NOT FROM FEAR BUT FROM DESPERATELY TRYING TO SAY "I FOUND HIM. I FOUND WALDO" BETWEEN GIGGLEFITS EVEN AS THE MINOTAUR WAS POISED TO EVISCERATE HER

HIS GAME COMPLETELY RUINED, HE STAGGERS OFF HOLDING BACK TEARS, VIVIDLY FINDING HIMSELF BACK UPON THE CHILDHOOD PLAYGROUND HIS DARKNESS WAS FORGED IN, THE HIGH SCHOOL HALLWAYS HARDENING HIM TO STEEL THROUGH FACING THE LITTANY OF PETTY BULLIES HIS ETHNICITY AND AWKWARD NATURE DREW UNTO HIM LIKE FLIES

WHERE WOODY ALLEN DEFTLY CRAFTED HIS AWKWARD JEWISHNESS INTO A SUCCESSFUL COMEDY ROUTINE, ZUCK COULD ONLY ATTEMPT FEEBLE DOMINATION VIA CAPITAL. WOMEN COULD HAVE DISSUADED HIM IF HE COULD HAVE TALKED TO ONE. A MAN WHO MAKES YOU LAUGH IS FAR SEXIER THAN A MAN WHO MAKES YOU SUBSCRIBE FOR A BLUE CHECK