If I were to rank these events as if I'm in Pat's shoes, the Lappening would be the worst. Being 1) cucked in front of my goofy, smiling face 2) by a fat-than-me friend and 3) smiling like a fucktard as it's happening. AND THEN, losing my wife and unborn child to that same guy? All the while knowing that John is a better man, husband, father, and lover than Pat ever was. That Ade was the best thing that ever happened to him; that he dumb-lucked his way into scoring a Wisconsin 7. The Lappening confirmed Pat's beta status. The world knows it. Fuck, man. If that was me, I'd have admitted defeat and never opened my mouth again. "Alright, ya got me. I'm gonna hide in my hole now."
Josiah would be second. Imagine how good it'd feel to have someone interested in your story. You're a victim, but a victim who refuses to surrender! Finally, someone's sympathetic to your plight and willing to share it with millions of readers. The potential for a book deal floats before your eyes. It's so close. And to have it all crash down in an embarrassing humiliating way, knowing that the person you confided in is one of the dozens of people who you hate with every whisker of your snout. And they're all laughing at you.
Third is this latest audio. You're at a low point. Drunk, tired, vulnerable. At your wit's end. Genuinely upset to the point of tears - he had that hot face, coppery taste in his mouth - and it ends up fucking recorded by your neighbor? What are the fucking odds?! And what's worse: it gets shared with those same rascals who laughed at your cuckoldry, laughed at your hubris, laughed at every stumble you've made in the past four years. Fucking humiliating, but at least you didn't have the carpet pulled out from under you the way Josiah did. And you didn't lose your wife to someone you called a friend.
GPA is fourth. I'm a dummy. I know it. But, fuck. A 1.7, Rick?! That's special education levels of stupid. For someone who thinks of himself as an intellectual to have it proven that you're a dim-witted fraud? That'd be humiliating. But I don't act smart, and I'd laugh it off with, "Eh. What'd'ya gonna do? I'm dumb." For me, this ranks lower but for Pat, this should be near the top.
The gym Instagram page would have been fifth. Knowing that 75% of the pictures posted to my gym's account are of my yellow-toothed doughy-faced goonish smirk? Ugh, kill me now. Even the gymbros and gymbos take full body shots to show off their hard work and progress. And here I am, feeling cool for having worked up a sweat on the eclectic, er ecliptic. Oh, I mean elliptical. Quality not quantity, Pat.