On Tuesday, the Drillers debuted their newest identity for a series of games on May 16-17 and August 13-14: The Ranch Dippers. And I am here to argue to you that this little guy… well, he’s a sick pervert.
Look at him:
My God, the Dionysian hedonism! How thrilled he is to be devoured! How delighted I am, he says with his larger-than-pepperoni eyes and his Nickelodeon grin, to be subsumed into the very substance which will lubricate my slide into oblivion!
Now, look. I’m exaggerating. He’s not that perverted. It’s not like the Drillers released a video taken inside a Mazzio’s (the corporate partner for this Drillers identity) showing a family being served plates of calzone and cheese sticks covered in ranch, and being served a multi-gallon mixing bowl full of the substance, which they greedily plunge their hands directly into.
Wait.
Goddammit.
No, they did exactly that.
Well, at least they didn’t release a video of them dunking an entire Drillers hat into a vat of ran—
Well. I stand corrected. When I showed my girlfriend the video of a hat being dunked into ranch, she said, and I quote: "Oh, the Drillers are doing fetish content now!"
So, look. Sure, this guy is a sick little pervert. Unfortunately, I also love him.
He's certainly not the worst secondary identity the Drillers have had. I have a history of disparaging and slandering the Drillers’ mascots and secondary and tertiary identities, and I don't necessarily plan to stop now. Oily the Oiler? Ontologically evil. I would hit him really hard with a bat.
The Oat Milkers? They named themselves the Milkers. Do I need to say more?
But these Dippers... At least the Dippers have the forthrightness to be disgusting. I can accept that. I can connect with that.
Hell. Fuck it. Let’s order a pizza. Can I get extra ranch?
