FLYING FUCK

Behold, the legendary "Flying Fuck" – now, exclusively for your viewing pleasure, in its natural, grounded habitat. Once merely a figure of speech for ultimate indifference, this elusive emotional unit was briefly rumored to possess the ability to actually care about things, albeit from a detached, aerial perspective. It was supposed to be the pinnacle of remote concern, soaring above life's petty squabbles.

However, after years of battling gale-force complaints, hurricane-strength entitlement, and the sheer gravitational pull of "who cares?", the last remaining "Flying Fuck" has, predictably, crashed and burned (metaphorically speaking, of course – it never really had any fuel to begin with). Its wings are clipped, its internal mechanisms (which probably didn't exist anyway) are shot, and its tiny, non-existent pilot has long since abandoned the mission.

This particular specimen, often found abandoned on a mundane suburban driveway, perfectly embodies the complete collapse of concern. It serves as a stark, concrete reminder that some things simply aren't worth the emotional uplift.

Ideal for those moments when someone demands your emotional investment in something you absolutely, positively, do not care about. Simply point to its dejected form and declare, "My last Flying Fuck landed right there, and as you can see, it's not going anywhere."

Disclaimer: This product is non-functional, non-existent, and non-refundable. Do not attempt to re-launch. May cause spontaneous eye-rolling in bystanders.