Union newspaper writer Jesse Blake McCann suffered a severe mental breakdown one week ago resulting is an overturned chair and a broken ego, sources in the newsroom said.
Sources said McCann’s last words before he stormed out of the room were, “Screw it! I’m sick of this artistic struggle!”
Reports indicate prior to his angry exit, McCann was sitting in the newsroom trying to come up with a good introduction for a news story about three men who got stranded in the desert. “Sandy situation,” “A sun spot of bad luck,” and “Sucks to be them” were several botched attempts.
“Jesse’s leads were just so bad, and when no one laughed when he said them out loud, he reread them in a silly voice,” managing editor Anna Mavromati said, “It still didn’t make them funny, but he can actually do a pretty decent Kermit impression.”
The creative frustration boiled to the point where McCann flipped a chair angrily and randomly called a fellow journalist a “stupidface.”
McCann had recently stepped down from his prestigious position as “web master” for the Union newspaper with the intent of following his dream of becoming a better staff writer. He even earned the position of columnist this semester.
“It was tough competition for columnist, but Jesse was the best choice,” editor in chief Romiro Rodriguez said, “Of course, he was the only one to submit something for consideration, but we felt his columns would be slightly better than a blank spot in the paper.”
I met myself for an exclusive interview at the McCann household to get a more in-depth view of his personal crisis.
When I met him, he had become a shadow of man; unshaven, in his Ninja Turtles pajamas, and hunched over in a front of the computer, a light blue glow illuminating his face in the darkened room.
“Recently, I’ve been filling my time with these clever online surveys; this one is going to tell me what M&M color I am,” McCann said.
“Ooo, it says I’m a blue M&M: ‘Newer and bluer, you’re a positive thinker, always willing to try something new, and very susceptible to over generalized statements.’ Oh man, that is so me.”
When asked about what he was upset about, he furrowed his brow and made a disgusted look.
“Feh, that article; it showed I can’t cut it,” McCann said, “How can I one day become a great writer if I can’t even think up a decent lead?”
“And I’m going to quit my web comic too!” McCann said, “It wasn’t getting popular anyway, no matter how many times I would advertise www.kookoo.monsquad.com!”
Even though McCann has given up on his aspirations, he still has a game plan.
“I’ve got it all figured out,” McCann said. “I’m going to stay living with my parents, get some slacker job at a Frys Electronics store, use that little pay to buy myself games and junk food, and spend all my free time fat and brain-dead in front of the computer and TV.”
McCann stopped for a moment and reflected on what he just said.
“Geez, that certainly seems like a crappy way to spend the rest of my life, especially when I had goals I wanted to accomplish,” McCann said.
“Yeah, screw this lifestyle,” McCann said, throwing off his pajamas. “I’m going back to doing what I love do: writing and comic-ing. Heck, what else is there to do in life but just that?”
McCann said he was going to return to the newsroom soon, with a new and positive outlook on life.
“I can’t desert my work,” McCann said. “Desert? Egad, I’ve got it! ‘Three Men Deserted in the Desert!’ I’m a genius!”
