It started like any other day. Chelsea went to a harmless looking vegan cafe, her mind on the mundane details of her life. Her food arrived, and the world seemed to make at least some sort of sense. Then, uninvited, a small child ran into view. The toddler rejected the vestiges of mankind, wearing nothing but a thick layer of dirt on their feet. Without further warning, the child leapt atop a table, and bent over, displaying their butthole. Chelsea reeled. Was she awake? Did the organic weed cookies just now kick in? Then, the sound of yodeling interrupted her introspection. She looked for the source, in a daze, and saw another child, staring and warbling like a stricken bird. It felt like the rejected television premise of a senile David Lynch. Hands quaking, Chelsea knew not what else to do but to share her experience in a two star Facebook review.
For most, this would be where the story ended. But not for Chelsea. The vegan cafe struck back, rebuking Chelsea for her insolence. "I am going to start calling out names and pictures of people who leave us bad reviews... We're starting with Chelsea!" they cried on Facebook. Then, Chelsea's world was a flurry of #ButtHoleGate hashtags, a furious vegan restaurant explaining their children's toilet training on their public page, and even after all that, Chelsea's tofurky sausage had been mediocre at best.