I'm writing this work in response to the Loud House episode "On Thin Ice" because yet again, Lynn failed to understand how terrified her parents and siblings are of her extreme love of sports and being blackmailed into performing her rituals despite not believing in them personally. The method I'm using happens to come from my favourite old-time comic strip, Lynn Johnston's "For Better Or For Worse." Back in the early years, whenever Elly did something stupid, she'd have a debate with herself and come out the loser. Thus do we have Late Night with Lynn's Conscience:
It was a great game, that was for sure. She'd wished she'd actually seen the Jellyfish's winning goal but Lynn had a good time anyway. Heck, she'd even gotten to talk shop with Rowdy McQuads himself and become something of a….whaddayacallit...a meme. Yep. Hashtag PengLYNN's becoming a thing would be something she could talk about for years. The problem was (as it always was) when she had to cool down after a high. She couldn't tell Dad or Mom or anyone 'cause she didn't wanna look or feel weak or nothin' but nights after a victory tended towards the sad-making. She'd sooner admit that sometimes, she thought winning was all she brought to the table or that people would stop loving her if she lost or that (craziest of all) people were kinda afraid of her than talk about her 'nightly friend' but here it was, two in the morning and that pesky little person in her head showed up again.
Other Lynn lead in with "Nice one, Lunkhead! You guilt Dad into doin'something he really hates to do but does anyway because the sound he doesn't wanna hear is a daughter tellin'him she hates him and he grabs onto the two least athletic siblings."
She'd tried to counter by saying that they looked like they were enjoying themselves anyway and really needed to get into the spirit of things but Other Lynn didn't wanna hear it. She'd dredged up that time she'd thought Lincoln was a bad luck charm and how the only reason people didn't stick up for him was that they didn't like the idea that he thought peeing standing up magically made him immune to the garbage they had to go through. The only thing they were enjoying was not getting on the bad side of a human bomb. That was Other Lynn's favorite trick, y'see, telling her that people were afraid of her because she went too far. I mean, it wasn't like she was gonna end up in the basement fat as a hippo and reading Face Stabby, into her thirties if she didn't man the heck up, right? She wasn't some bonko pageant girl, was she? Or a creepy little weirdo showing up outta nowhere spoutin'morbid garbage about how bad life is because no one notices someone who lurks in the shadows and won't raise her voice. Couldn't tell Other Lynn that. Other Lynn called her just another nutcase living in a pressure cooker.
Heck, she didn't even get credit for wanting to tone things down so people would not run away from her all the time. Other Lynn said "And I loved the way you plea-bargained your way outta cooling it with the nonsense everyone hates. What are you, six or something? Or maybe you're just a damned hypocrite, Miss 'Tell Luan To Her Face It's Only Funny When Everyone Else Is Laughing' LoudMOUTH!" Yep. That was the problem with arguing with yourself. You always managed to lose.