One of my favorite stories that my grandmother tells is when I was learning how to walk, I fell down and hurt my head somewhere, so I was like "Fuck this" (her language not mine¹) and I refused to walk ever again. I didn't really see the point. So one day, my grandmother sat me in front of the TV while we watched a Peanuts movie, and said "Yo peep dis mothafucka. that bald fat kid² can walk, and you can't! You a fucking punk yo!" Not wanting to be a fucking punk, I eventually made an effort to learn how to walk, and I've never stopped walking to this very day³.
That's why Charlie Brown matters to me. If it weren't for that bald fat kid, I would still be crawling to places. This would make things exceptionally difficult for me to play basketball, or if an evil wizard entered my room and I had to escape.
Now he's a winner
Champion Charlie Brown!
¹ Actually, mine.
² Charlie Brown
³ Except when I'm sitting down. Or sleeping. Or both.
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