Three days after the venom monster incident, I had to head upstate. I was working on a video where I planned to spin a chair on the ceiling to Around the World by Daft Punk, but I didn’t have any superglue strong enough to hold the chair (Video Down Below). The place I needed to get it from was hours away, so I had a ten-hour round trip ahead of me.
Right before I left, I told Justin — still going by that name at the time — that I’d be back around 10 p.m. He nodded, barely awake, and rolled back over. Apparently, he’d been up all night grinding a new Minecraft world, as one does every few months.
Now, everything that happened next is what he told me.
As soon as I left, Justin pulled out his phone and invited a couple of his friends over. Nothing crazy — just a small hangout. I had already gone over a few ground rules during our first BBQ:
Always lock the doors.
Don’t run the heater and the fan at the same time.
And most importantly — never have more than five guests over at once. Bad things happen when you cross that line.
So, Justin invited two friends — Eric and Charlie. Seemed fine… until he realized he’d invited the wrong Eric.
Now, this Eric was a friend of his — they met skydiving in Alaska, which is wild — but Eric had recently been elected King of his ant colony. And now, wherever he went, his entire security detail — all 10,000 of them — had to come with him.
Eric had been feeling overwhelmed with the whole “king” thing and jumped at the invite.
According to Tim, the night started chill. Charlie showed up first, and the two of them were watching the Lakers game. Things were good — LeBron even hit a three over Tatum. But then the doorbell rang.
Tim opened the door and saw Eric and a smaller ant standing there. Confused, he asked what they were doing here. Eric looked back and said, “Bro, you invited me.” That’s when Tim realized he meant to text the other Eric. But instead of admitting the mistake, he played it cool and let them in.
Then Eric yelled, “C’mon, guys!” — and that’s when it happened.
An entire army of ants marched into the house, surrounding Tim like a wave. Every single one politely said “excuse me” as they bumped past him. Tim said it felt like he was drowning in ants. Once the last one was inside, he shut the door and tried to find Eric.
Ten minutes later, he found him chilling on the couch.
“Yo, why did you bring everybody?” Tim asked.
Eric smiled, “Didn’t I tell you? I’m the King now.”
Tim had no idea. Eric was so used to being treated like royalty that he thought everyone already knew.
Tim congratulated him and gently asked if maybe his army could wait outside, because… y’know… rules. Eric said he legally couldn’t send them away — they were his royal guard. So Tim had to make do.
Luckily, ants don’t need much. He gave them a water bottle to pass around and popped some popcorn. Once things calmed down, he made it back to the couch to sit with Eric and Charlie.
Charlie leaned over and asked, “Where’s Eric?”
Tim whispered, “I’ll explain everything when the King and his 10,000 soldiers leave.”
The game was down to the final seconds — Lakers were down by two, 118–120. LeBron passed the ball to Luka, who shot it right at the buzzer.
But before the ball hit the hoop… the TV went black. A loud, screeching sound blasted through the house.
See, that rule about no more than five guests? It’s real. The house is kind of cursed. Too many guests and, well… it summons seamonsters. I know it sounds fake — but I’ve lived here long enough to know the pattern.
Years ago, I threw a party that went way too hard, and some seamonsters showed up. Ever since, they’ve been desperate to party again. They live in the swamp nearby, and anytime they sense a crowd, they crash the house.
They’re loud. They break stuff. They never leave when the party’s over.
That night, three seamonsters burst through the window, blasting Fetty Wap on a JBL speaker. They took over the kitchen and were heading toward the living room. Normally, that’s when the whole party runs — but not this time.
This time… Eric had an army.
Tim said the ants immediately formed ranks and attacked. The seamonsters were not ready. No one ever stands up to them. Within seconds, they panicked, cried, and ran back to the swamp. On the way out, one yelled, “We’re never coming back!”
That’s when I pulled into the driveway. It was 10:13 p.m. I saw the seamonsters storming out and instantly knew… there had been more than five people in my house.
I stormed in yelling, “WHERE IS JUSTIN?” and before I knew it, the ant army surrounded me. Eric thought I was a threat and gave the command to take me out.
But I was ready. I had a can of Raid in my inventory and wasn’t afraid to use it.
Just as I lifted it, Tim jumped between us.
“Don’t attack him,” he told the ants. “He owns the house.”
Eric told them to stand down, and I pulled Tim aside into the backyard.
I told him to pack his stuff. I didn’t want to hear it. To me, he’d just thrown a party and brought seamonsters back into my life.
Tim didn’t argue. He went inside and told Eric, Charlie, and the other 9,999 ants to head out. He packed his bag.
But then I asked him — how did you get the seamonsters to leave?
That’s when he told me the whole story: the wrong Eric, the ants, the party crashers, the battle. He even showed me the texts on his phone to prove it was supposed to be a small hangout.
After hearing it all, I looked at him and said, “I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t know.”
And honestly, I was kinda glad someone finally got rid of those annoying sea monsters. Maybe I could actually throw parties again.
I told Tim — still calling him Justin — that he could stay as long as he wanted.
He nodded, unpacked, and went back downstairs to rewatch the game-winning shot he missed on ESPN.
From that day forward, I had a new level of respect for Tim. He didn’t argue. He didn’t get mad when I snapped at him. He just accepted it and was ready to go.
That respect only grew after he got chased by a Roomba.
But that’s a story for another time…
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