Rhett McLaughlin - Rhett & Links Book of Mythicality: A Field Guide to Curiosity, Creativity, and Tomfoolery

W HEN WE UPLOAD an Internet video, the primary response were hoping for is laughter. Thats a tad ironic, considering that we have no way to see or hear anyone laughing. Instead, we must scan user comments for comedic validation, and that means wading through remarks like You guys are running out of ideas or Who else is eating chicken parm while watching this? If were lucky enough to stumble upon a hehehehehehe, a muahahaha, or even a coveted tears-of-joy emoji, its not nearly as satisfying as hearing someone authentically burst into laughter.

Thankfully, we have each other. Before we were ever trying to get people on the Internet to indicate amusement with their keyboards, we were making each other laugh. To this day, we know we have succeeded in truly landing a joke when it causes us to begin giggling together like a couple of toddlers who just broke out of day care (we readily acknowledge that toddlers breaking out of day care is only funny for the toddlers).

There are probably best friends out there who spend most of their time together just somberly talking about impending global pandemics and financial collapse. We love a good apocalyptic conversation as much as the next person, but weve found that sharing a laugh is a true sweet spot where two hallmarks of Mythicality, humor and friendship, meet. It was this nexus of Mythicality that first opened the door to our lifelong companionship.

LINK From the time I was four years old until I met Rhett when I was six, I was determined to have a best friend. I was desperate for a best friend.

My first attempt to find one was in preschool with Brad McDonald. We had fun digging holes together, so I figured he was my best friend. Then, one afternoon while venturing into the bathroom just after Brad finished his business, I saw it: hed forgotten to flush and had left behind a memento. It was orange. Im talking cheese-puff orange. It was wrong to hold Brads orange poop against him. He probably just drank a crap-ton (pun intended) of Fanta, or maybe he was secretly addicted to Creamsicles. But whatever the reason, it scarred me deeply, and I could no longer consider Brad my BFF. I guess I was a pretty ruthless four-year-old.

Young Link used a stuffed animal as a temporary best friend during his quest for a human best friend. Notice the chokehold.

My second attempt at best friendship came in kindergarten. Most days, the highlight of recess involved some kind of foot race, and I was determined to become friends with the fastest kid. I was among the slowest runners, but I figured that all great friendships should involve some realistic average speed, so that no duo is too fast or too slow. (I thought way too much about this.) Sadly, the fastest kid, Maurice Cameron, was already best friends with Lynwood Campbell. So I set my sights on the second-fastest kid, Matthew Enzor. I tried complimenting him after one of his silver-medal performances, only to realize that he was already committed to a best friendship with a slow-moving blond kid named JR. My search for a speedy best friend was going nowhere fast.

My third and final pre-Rhett best-friend-getting attempt came later that kindergarten year. I figured, since targeting the fastest kid had failed, why not try the biggest one? And Zac West was the size of a third-grader. Surely he would like a little friend to balance things out. I began talking to Zac, and he talked back. After a few days, he even asked me to come over to his house. This was working! He was gonna be my best friend! While at Zacs house, he asked if I wanted to play wrestling. I loved wrestling, and anticipated Zac pulling out a full WWF pro wrestling toy set just like the one I had at home. Yeah! I told him excitedly. Before I knew it, Zac had me by the legs, upside down in a pile-driver position on his bed, and proceeded to jackhammer me headfirst off the bed and into the floor. His grandma was watching. I never went back to Zacs house.

On the first day of first grade, I met Rhett, and I knew that he was best-friend material. First off, he was tall, so there was the whole average-height-between-us factor. He was also pretty fast, even though it looked like he was moving slow because his legs were so long. I never saw his poop to gauge its orangeness, but he never attempted to pile-drive me, so I eased up on the background check. Plus, just a few days into our friendship, he asked if he could spend the night at my house, which meant that he knew that I was best-friend material too.