It was with fervent hope that when I came to Triond I would have the chance to finally spread the word of Duff to an apathetic and under whelmed word of ignorance; a spark of madness to ignite the insane normalcy of perceived existence. The Duff had come to bring about the great human awakening. It has unfortunately not come to pass. My sparkling vision for reaching millions of genuine and interested viewers has been replaced by the dreary green Triond dashboard of gloom – five views in one whole day! Thoughts began to surface asking what the point is, and suggesting perhaps one should quit while they were behind. Thus the plot for the story called Duff D Moss was considering a heart tearing tragedy.

This was indeed a disturbing turn of events and my reaction to the dreaded reality was primarily one of fear. My mind instantly reverted to memories of the terror and torment of primary school. I could not but help to think that once again I had been rejected. Once I thought I was part of an exclusive writing brotherhood bringing light to the dark through the power of word, but only to be told that not only am I not wanted but that all memory of my being is to be erased from the collective for all time. In primary school I was gently informed of my rejection by a sustained punching to the gutesses – today I have been told by the more insidious and brutal beast of the Internet.

Still, my training in the secret arts told me to not trust the basic ego response and instead to look towards the cosmic for the truth of the situation. I therefore sat in silence and asked the eternal consciousness what explanations could there be to this apparent and thinly veiled hatred towards my person. Three possible explanations came to the surface of my mind. They were:

• I am the victim of identity theft
• The world is afraid and intimidated by my godliness and holiness.
• I utterly suck

Thus, there emerged from the matrix three possible scenarios with no other explanations of any kind.

The first scenario was somewhat alarming, and I needed to examine my life in a bit more detail to determine if such a travesty could be true. The more I thought about it the more likely this seemed. Indeed it is possible a doppelganger – a Mossyganger if you will – has been running around and upsetting the delicate balance of a fragile society. If this were true it would explain why strangers upon seeing me in the street have been inexplicably punching me in the face – I thought it was simply that my body was so grotesque to them that they could not but help to express their revulsion in spontaneous violence. The Mossyganger would also explain why the wife reckons I’ve had plenty lately when I could swear I’ve not had any for at least 10 years – I thought it was simply that women think twice in a marriage is plenty, and that two of my children were explainable by DNA transference through shared Pepsi-max bottles. The possibility of identity theft may also explain why the people on my street keep on swerving to hit me with their cars – I just thought it was because of the sign in my front yard that says “Everyone in this street, except me, are vile maggot infested demons of the undead with marshmallow brains. I hate you more than the afterbirth of Ophera Winfrey. You are worse than the diseased scrotum of an Indian slum leper. Get off my street you bunch of moronic cum stains of Hitler“. It seems perhaps that the Mossyganger has been upsetting them instead.