Here at Syfy Fangrrls, we practice hard-hitting journalism. We ask the tough questions. We solve the universe’s biggest mysteries. We dare to go where no one has gone before. But even we, in all our infinite wisdom and knowledge, have yet to discover the answer to an enigma that’s been plaguing Hollywood, nay, the world, for nearly half a century: Just how old is Paul Rudd, really?
A quick Google search reveals that the former '90s heartthrob is allegedly 49 years old. Mark our use of allegedly here, because, well, we’re calling bullsh*t on that. God himself could part the clouds, come down from the Heavens, and declare that Rudd is, in fact, a 49-year-old male, and we’d still demand to see the receipts.
And it’s not just us questioning Rudd’s mortality. Internet sleuths throughout the ages have pondered this, life’s most puzzling query. Twitter fandoms have imploded with the news that yes, Rudd is the same guy who played Phoebe’s boyfriend on Friends years ago. When Friends was still on. And people actually liked it.
Rudd’s own Ant-Man co-stars have questioned whether he sold his soul to the devil for eternal youth. The foundations of humanity itself have been shaken, the delicate balance disturbed all because Paul Rudd has made Father Time his b*tch.
So, what can we do? Should we just ignore this glaring falsehood and ignorantly continue with this farce? Turn a blind eye to Rudd’s agelessness and instead enjoy the man hiding behind the baby-faced mask? After all, Paul Rudd has gifted us with blessings we don’t deserve. You can’t spell versatility without mentioning his acting career. Who else can go from Clueless to Romeo + Juliet to Marvel superhero? No one, that’s who.
And it would be so easy to overlook his deception if we could just focus all our energy into admiring his beautiful face, a visage of an angel with the body that belongs on the cover of the trashiest of romance novels. If we could just find a way to harness its unlimited power, Paul Rudd’s smile could cure cancer. Maybe it could even heal this fractured world.
So then, do we turn a blind eye to the dark sorcery at work here? Do we bask in the glow of the immortal Paul Rudd, reap the rewards of his timelessness without worrying about the whys, the hows, the world-ending consequences that are sure to come?
No, dammit. We demand answers! Paul, if you’re reading this from the coffin you most assuredly sleep in, we deserve to know.
What Korean beauty regimen do you use at night, huh Rudd? Do you bathe in goat’s milk? Perhaps the blood of innocent children, thus stealing their youth and irresistible cuteness? Tell us your ways so that we too may drink from the fountain of youth. This power is not yours alone, Paul Rudd! It must be shared!