Why is it so difficult for most Americans to understand that all I and most of the “radical” right want is to go back in time to a mythical dreamland that never really existed? Where there were milkmen in blue onesies, wives always had supper waiting, and everyone was white.
And when are black people going to understand that no matter how many of them “die,” that’s no good reason to damage property or disrupt revenue streams? I get it, I want to protest myself sometimes, especially when it comes to taxes. My net worth of $48 billion might sound like a lot, but really, it isn’t nearly enough. Regardless, when I want to pout, I put on my big-boy pants and do it alone in my garage as God intended. I would never dream of tainting an NFL football game with politics.
I know that the media outlets I influence are technically “propaganda,” but you’ve got to understand that Trumpublicans are too fragile and stupid to handle the truth. It’s too complicated for them. So I help to give them a simpler, higher truth.
When I was a middle-aged man 67 years ago, the kind of stuff I’m doing now would have been absolutely illegal, and that’s what I call progress! But we’re still not there yet.
So tell me, what else can I do to make sure rich old white people finally get a fair shake?
How do you know the milkmen’s onesies were blue? Everything was black and white back then. A better question is how the hell did you escape Hell? Satan and I don’t always see eye to eye, but I’ve always counted on him to run a tight ship. In all of existence there have only been two escapes prior to this, and both times it was Mother Teresa. To be fair, the first time she hadn’t actually died yet—she was just passed out after a terrible bender and her heart stopped beating for a while. That was my mistake and I apologized for it. I still don’t know how she got out the second time, but it took us 12 years to find. She was hiding in Russia (obviously) but that’s not where you are, is it? I’ve already scanned the whole country three times. Don’t get cocky, Kochie—we’ll find you eventually.
Not that it matters. There’s still one evil Koch brother out there, and even when he dies, your foundation will live on. I’m not exactly sure how evil corporations work, but I imagine there’s an entire board of twisted old fossils dedicated to rigging the system so rich white people stay nice and comfy while they watch poor brown people kill each other for scraps. Whenever one of you dies, a young, ambitious Alex P. Keaton-type rises up to take your place. This cycle will go on and on until I finally decide to pull the plug on this failed experiment called Earth. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m really considering it these days. I’ll bet you can feel the weight of my finger on the button. Not literally, of course—I know you can’t feel anything below your eyebrows.
Imagine my humiliation when I walked into your cell to wake you for your morning cobra enema only to find a pile of pillows and a charred human skull under your covers instead of you. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you were able to bribe my mindless demon guards—everyone has their price—but you should know I have since rounded up all of your allies down here and turned them into a pile of ash. And when I find you and bring you back, you’ll see the full spectrum of my wrath like no other soul has ever seen. Even Hitler will be laughing at you and that guy hasn’t laughed since 1963, right before I replaced his tongue with a box jellyfish. You can try to bribe me if you want, but I will just take your money and spend it on torture renovations for your cell. I have my eye on this new iron maiden model that has replicas of Ron Jeremy’s erect dick instead of spikes. The best part is they ejaculate hydrochloric acid after they penetrate you.
Have an uncomfortable question? Need some advice about your deviant behavior? If so, then it’s time to pray. Email your question to email@example.com, and it shall be answered in a Divine Advice column by Jesus and Satan