Bobby Beacon’s mugshot. Illustration by Bianca Oppedisano (She/Her) / Mass Media Staff.
Bobby Beacon is an enigma. Beloved school mascot one second, and raving lunatic the next. This unpredictable personality is what makes him such a great person to interview. So, when Bobby demanded we meet to discuss his “dark past,” I eagerly obliged. We talked over coffee and by coffee, I mean that I had tea and he had three Coca-Cola’s and a five-hour energy. As per usual, things went downhill from there.
Bobby Beacon: I just want to go on record right now and say that I am sorry. Okay? I’m sorry! When I said that he had some good points, I only meant it in the sense that everybody has some good points, you know? And about those comments I made when I was younger, if I had known the cultural significance of what that word meant, I never would have said it. I have to atone for my mistakes, confront my ignorance and learn from it. I can do better and I will do …Joe, what the f—! Are you writing this down?
Joe DiPersio: I’m gonna level with you Bobby. I have no idea what you’re talking about right now.
BB: What do you mean you don’t know? I thought you guys found out about my dark past. I thought this was the reason I’m being canceled.
JD: Canceled? Are you talking about cancel culture?
BB: Oh, don’t play coy with me, pal. You won’t be pleading the fifth in my courtroom! It’s impossible to be a comedian these days, under the constant fear of being canceled by the media. All you’re doing is trying to tell a good old-fashioned joke and you’ve got a bunch of butt-hurt snowflakes standing up in the middle of your set and screaming, “ooooh, I’m offended! You’re offending me! Whaaa!” It’s supposed to be offensive! It’s comedy for f—s sake! It’s supposed to be at the expense of someone else—that’s what a joke is!
JD: Bobby. That is not, at all, what a joke is.
BB: Yeah, like you of all people would know what a joke is! All you do is milk me for laughs like a little baby, suckling his mother’s tit for jokes because he’s incapable of thinking on his own. You know, I think it’s time for that little baby boy to grow a pair and leave the nest cause I don’t like the way that baby boy is making me look—It’s awful! I thought we were friends? You’re nothing but a phony! A grimace behind a grin! A greedy prospector bleeding my comedy goldmine dry! You’re a fake friend!
JD: Holy crap dude, you need to calm down. What do you mean I’m a fake friend?
BB: We were supposed to meet up last Friday, remember? We were gonna hang out in the Boneyard and play Mario Party 2. I pulled out the N64—I even made my famous spicy salsa. Jalapeños, habaneros, green onions, Roma tomatoes! It’s an all-day thing! The whole kitten kaboodle, just for you!
We were gonna play a fifty-turn game at space land, no bonus stars, just boys being boys. I ended up eating all that salsa by myself and throwing up. Some of it got in the controller and I tried cleaning it but it’s like, trapped under the joystick. I don’t even know where to get a new controller cause GameStop sucks now and people online just jack up the prices so I’m kind of f—ed thanks to you.
JD: Wait. That’s what this is about? Seriously? Look, Bobby, I’m sorry I didn’t show up to game night, but I honestly just forgot. Stuff came up; I was busy!
BB: Yeah, busy making me look bad in the paper. Slandering my name, publicly defaming me, trying to cancel me!
JD: I don’t even think you understand what cancel culture is! You get more publicity now than you’ve had in your entire life. You’re not being canceled.
BB: I won’t tolerate disrespect under my roof! Don’t you dare belittle me! The way you write about me makes me look like some sad, pathetic monster and a deranged creep. It’s downright offensive! I’ve seen those little “Ask Bobby” panels you got in there now. You don’t think those are making me look bad? They make me look like a weirdo!
JD: You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re the one who answers those questions, Bobby! If you don’t want people to think you’re weird, then stop being weird!
BB: You listen here ol’ buddy, ol’ pal, ol’ friend—I am far from the weirdest thing around these parts. I saw that article you did the other week; the interview with that rotten, good-for-nothin’ fish-freak, Sea-Man. He was talking smack about me and you did nothing. You didn’t even think to get my side of the story, did you?
JD: You know what Bobby? I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you with any of these articles, it’s just that you’re a funny guy and people want to see that guy, warts and all.
BB: How would you like it if every week you flipped open the paper only to see yourself in there being depicted in a way that ain’t so good?
JD: I suppose I wouldn’t like it.
BB: That’s exactly why I’m gonna give you a taste of your own medicine. I’m gonna contribute an article and talk s— about you so you know how it feels! Serious question, though…I’m allowed to do that, right?
JD: I mean, I guess … I don’t see why not, but I don’t really know how relevant an article making fun of me will be. Nobody knows who I am so who’s gonna care?
BB: And just like that, the weasel tries to weasel his way out of it! This isn’t about you, it’s about me! An article penned by Bobby B. Beacon himself; come on! Do you have any idea the attention it’s gonna draw? I know my worth. As for you, I’d do some re-evaluating. Hasta la vista, baby!