Area Man Refuses to Blink During Tar Drop Livestream, Now on Day Four

A LaughParty comic take.

Comic fiction: everything below is invented for laughs. No real scientists, viewers or eyeballs were harmed.

In the fictional town of Dripton, the Institute for Extremely Patient Science has launched what it calls the most intense livestream in human history: a single blob of tar, hanging from a funnel, thinking about falling.

The blob has been thinking about it for decades. Scientists say tar is technically a liquid, the same way a teenager on a Saturday morning is technically awake. It flows, just not in any way you could catch it doing.

Local viewer Gordon Pibbleworth, a made-up man with a very real commitment problem, logged on Monday intending to watch for five minutes. He is now on day four, has not blinked, and has started referring to the tar as Kevin.

'Kevin is close,' Gordon whispered to our imaginary reporter, eyes watering heroically. 'I can feel it. Yesterday I swear he leaned.'

He did not lean. Institute instruments confirm that Kevin moved roughly the width of a thought.

The livestream chat, meanwhile, has become a thriving civilization. Viewers have formed shifts, so that someone is always watching. They have elected a mayor. They have written a national anthem, which is just the word 'drip' sung very slowly over eleven minutes. A splinter group has broken off to watch a nearby houseplant, claiming it offers 'more action.'

Lead researcher Dr. Mavis Ooze, also fictional, says the experiment has taught science a great deal about viscosity, but even more about human nature.

'People will watch absolutely anything if you tell them it might happen,' she said, sipping coffee that had gone cold sometime in the previous administration. 'We once paused the stream for maintenance, and three hundred people emailed to ask if Kevin was okay.'

The stakes are high. Historically, legend says, the drop always falls the moment everyone looks away. Researchers have tried tricking it by pretending to leave the room, whistling casually, and announcing loudly that they are going to lunch. Kevin has seen through every ruse. Kevin has nothing but time.

Some viewers have begun preparing for the big moment. One fan has baked a cake that she plans to eat only after the drop falls; her grandchildren are expected to enjoy it. Another has pre-written a celebratory post that just says 'HE DID IT,' saved in drafts since roughly the invention of drafts.

Gordon, for his part, remains at his post. His family has started sliding sandwiches under his door. His cat now watches the stream too, purely out of solidarity.

'When Kevin falls,' Gordon said, finally blinking for half a second and then gasping in panic, 'I want to be there. I want to tell my grandkids I saw it.'

At press time, Kevin had not fallen. But he was, according to several hundred bloodshot witnesses, absolutely thinking about it.

Inspired by Tar Drop Experiment (Realtime).