I’m kind of a big deal.
I’m not saying that you’re not a big deal. I’m just a little bit big dealerer than you. It’s no big deal.
And by big deal, I mean big. Like I can hardly walk down the street anymore without people ignoring me. That’s how you know it’s working. I asked my teeming mass of fans to remember I’m just a normal guy under all of this awesome. I want to be treated like a regular, boring, gassy person – Just like you! And you guys listened; I could be in the middle of the mall, just standing and being awesome, and you guys totally leave me alone. I appreciate that.
But I also appreciate when fans stop me to say something. You know, like, ‘Hey, Brent, you’re pretty awesome. How did you get that cyclops to give you the phoenix down and matching Duvet of Majesty?’ or ‘Hey, get out of my bushes! I’m calling the cops!’ or even ‘This is a baptism; put your penis back in your pants!’ You guys are the best, and you know me so well. Your lauding touches me at the core. In the special place. Like you have a windowless van. And candy. And I’m a sucker for Reese’s Pieces. Seriously, lure me into a van with your Reese’s and your creepy glasses.
Speaking of abduction, I really want you. To vote for me. In 2007.
Your present depends on it, and I will tell you why.
See, I realized that with all the people hanging off of every delicious word that spills from my dirty mouth, or drips from my sticky fingertips, that I could use you to my advantage. And ultimately take advantage of you and our government. But that’s phase three. We’re in phase one; Pay attention, a-holes.
If you vote for me in Election 2007, I promise that you will benefit from everything you currently love and cherish. If I lose in 2007, you are doomed to a life of misery. You will never know what it was like to kiss your dog, or how awesome it felt to finally meet your kids, or what it felt like the first time you quit the rock. Your life depends on your vote. Here’s the science:
If you vote for me in 2007, I will gain enough pull to dissolve the Washington State / Oregon State border, and effectively rename the super state Unicorn Mind Explosion. After succeeding in becoming Supreme Sex Commander of Unicorn Mind Explosion, I will seceed from The Union and bring into effect the ‘Capitalism : Simplified’ bill. Said bill will allow me access to all Unicorn Mind Explosion citizen savings accounts and take uncontested amounts of money for my own benefit and disposal. I might take out a couple of bucks because I saw one of those balsa-wood-paddle-and-cool-ball-on-a-rubber-band things at a gas station; I might take out a couple of thousand because I need to get a diamond encrusted thong. It’s not for me, but I just want one. You know, just in case.
But really, I will need to amass enough cash to finally build a functioning time machine by 2010. At that point, I will go back in time to 2007 to solidify my victory to become Supreme Sex Commander of Unicorn Mind Explosion. And in office, I will be able to predict everything that happens on the planet with almost 100% certainty, and you guys will thank me for it. Like, big time. You’ll cook me steak for a solid week. That kind of thanking. After I get all sweet and popular from saving the world from horrible diseases, natural disasters, and other weird shit (Jersey Shore, Avatar related depression, everyone being surprised Tiger is like every other sexting teen), I will appear to magically come up with the specs for a functioning time machine before 2009. In 2010, I will return to 2007 and be elected as Supreme Sex Commander of my Unicorn Mind Explosion once more, publish a book called the ‘Elbib’ that predates my appearance, predicts my coming, and I’ll cure the diseases, predict weather, tell people when they’re going to die, and I deliver to them the specs to build a functioning time machine before 2008. I’ll spend my off time fixing the economy BEFORE it breaks, getting bigotted a-holes to shut their mouths, and repair relations between the US and… well, everyone.
In 2008, I will use the time machine to return to 2007 once more, do the cool stuff, you guys get all stoked and build a time machine, per my request and direction, before I even get elected into office.
This time I’ll go back to 1999, and I’ll manage to get tickets to see The Sixth Sense. And before the movie even starts, I’ll tell everyone that Bruce Willis is really bald, effectively spoiling the biggest twist of the 20th century, and people will be so freaking amazed. I’ll totally scream ‘YEEEEEEAAAAAAAH! BONER BURGER MACARONI SALAD FARTS!’ when Bruce and Haley Joel go to the wake. You remember that scene. With the hot crying mom. Oh, hell yes. Nothing hotter than sorrow.
I digress.
I will spoil the twist in The Sixth Sense, cure shit, predict shit, and you guys will be so effing stoked. You’ll want to build a statue, but I’ll be all like, ‘No, that is not necessary. There are plenty of planets to name after me.’ I’m thoughtful like that.
And that brings us to now. You guys will be enjoying your super awesome lives that are only thanks to me, my anti-aging creme, and my time travelling badassedness – Just like you are doing right now. What I am saying, is you wouldn’t be where you are today if it weren’t for me being so dang awesome.
And that is why I need your vote.
Vote for me, Brent the Ironclad, this Election 2007.
Do it for you. Do it for science. Do it for the present. But most of all, do it for me.
Signed, Sincerely, With Love, Your Future Supreme Sex Commander and Object of Adoration,
Brent The Ironclad, Himself
Ironclad Illogica 