The Goof lumbers through life with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. Every now and then he'll set your couch on fire or lose all your money during a weekend you had to spend in Vegas because a buddy of his there was selling him a Vespa. But he means well! And isn't the roller coaster ride of a friendship with this wildcard worth more than five thousand of your measly dollars?
Why they don't exist: You know who sets couches on fire and goes to Vegas at any point ever in real life? Sociopaths. Wildcards sure can be fun, but you'll forget all about that once their divorce storyline kicks in and they start hitting on your mom.
A hero can't become a hero unless there's some dick out to ruin everything. For as long as there's been love or success, there's been that one sneaky little creature doing everything they can to undermine and destroy you, often for no reason other than some kind of deep-seated, innate hatred of you. They'll try to steal your partner. Get you fired. Sometimes they'll just laugh as the subway doors close right before you were about to get on. It's what they live for, and it's all they do.
Why they don't exist: Unfortunately, life doesn't work in absolutes. That guy I just described? That's probably been you half the time. Humans are complicated and irrational and impulsive, and just because we do bad things sometimes, not a single one of us wants to be defined by them. Also it really is hilarious when someone misses the subway, and they get all red and angry. Everyone loves that.
You were too busy rereading your ex's break up text again to see them coming, and spilled coffee all over their fancy work clothes they had dry cleaned SPECIFICALLY for the big meeting today.
Why they don't exist: Random public encounters sound awesome, but what you're forgetting is the sheer volume of awful weirdos roaming the streets at all times. The chances of happening upon a hip, together life partner on your way to work are as slim as that weird white-haired guy who hangs out in the subway entrance, points at you and screams the date of your death every morning.
Be it with a traffic cop, a steely judge, or your so-far humorless boss, you're going to get into some serious trouble with someone in uniform at some point. They'll come down hard, staring down at your crushed, pathetic face as they drive the final nail into the coffin that is your bearable life as you know it. Then you'll say something to remind them of their childhood or dead wife or something, and everything will be fine.
Why they don't exist: Hahahaha yeah right. I can imagine few things that are more fun than really messing someone's existence up and getting paid for it. That's like the best bit. You think they're going to deny themselves that because you hopped that turnstile and resisted arrest, like, three times for LOVE? Enjoy jail.
They'll take you to brunch on Sunday for a "chat," or drink beers in your backyard with you long into the night because it's not like they ever have something going on. Sure, they'll have little tiffs with whichever paragon of devotion/modest looks they've been living with since high school, but that's mostly just to pad things out. You're the priority here.
Why they don't exist: This one should be obvious. Your friends are super into talking about their crap too, and as long as you insist on hashing out the minute details of you disastrously wacky date last night, they're going to expect you to buck up and return the favor, which you might as well do. Life can't always be like a movie, otherwise you'd never be able to nap through Saturday or play FIFA for 4 hours straight. Accept it, and take your damn best friend to brunch.
Yes, you've already met them, but you never really appreciated them until you went home for that week to rediscover yourself. Sure, mom still worries a lot, and dad spends most of the time watching TV, but suddenly you find yourself connecting with them more than ever before. You discover there's more to them than the dudes you lived with for 18 years, and just before you leave they'll give you a big, long, wise speech about the person they know you are and can be.
Why they don't exist: By the time you've matured sufficiently to even entertain the concept of your parents as real human beings, they'll have matured sufficiently that it would be laughably foolish to imagine them being even the slightest bit invested in anything other than the "Next time on Homeland" trailer. They still love you and everything, but Brody's really in the thick of it right now and you're going to have to keep your voice down until 11, OK?
Life is hard, even without all those optional things idiots do like going to the gym or grocery shopping or wearing underpants. That stuff's so boring! It's a good thing you've got a pal who LOVES doing this shit. He'll call you at 11:15 a.m. on a Sunday when, let's face it, you're just getting up, telling you to get your sneakers on because you're hitting the treadmill. You'll rattle off an excuse like you're tired or sick or a fallible human being with feelings and a conscience and reserve the right to control your own life. Then he'll laugh, call you something mean, and make you go anyway. Because that's what friends do.
Why they don't exist: Remember how hard it is to do all that stuff I said before? Imagine making ANOTHER WHOLE PERSON do that stuff. In movies, gyms are places where life truths are somehow shared between buds while at the same time they're running fast and long enough to get one of those all-back sweats going. In reality, you half-heartedly pedal alone on the exercise bike and mentally craft a passive-aggressive text to the guy who rightfully canceled on you.
This obnoxious ne'er-do-well can most often be found peeking over your cubicle partition to quote George of the Jungle, which he watched high last night and holds up well. His constant bad jokes, embarrassing conduct, and inexplicable professional superiority will enrage and frustrate you for as long as you're at your dead end job. It's a good thing this guy doesn't actually exist.
Why they don't exist: Just kidding. This one does.