Greetings and Salutations! I trust you all are finding this interminable winter as joyless and bitter as I intended. You’ll have to forgive me for the many weeks that have passed since my last post. What can I say? The holidays are a busy time for me. If I’m not pounding eggnog and Bacardi by the Lake O’ Fire, I’m probably vacationing with Dakota Fanning, orchestrating the outcomes of collegiate bowl games with the help of my servants – the referees, or touring the country with my main man, Michael Buble. Even for an eternal being of pure evil, it can be exhausting. Add 100 hours of court ordered community service and you’ve got yourself a packed calendar.
In fact, my recent experience with involuntary volunteerism is what I wanted to discuss with you all today. Long story short, an overzealous judge in Madison, Wisconsin, used an archaic loophole in the penal code to implicate me in the serial vandalizing of several local nursing homes. (I mean, yes, it was my idea, but I wasn’t the one putting grim reaper statues outside the windows, and I certainly wasn’t the one greasing the wheelchair ramps.) Without anything remotely resembling due process, I was treated to a rather stern tongue-lashing and ordered to perform 100 hours of civic service.
As you might imagine, I am opposed to service of all kinds, community or otherwise. This is, of course, in keeping with my broader opposition to anything that does not result in war, pestilence, poverty, or public embarrassment. This made the completion of my penance difficult. How could I placate this mustachioed, Midwestern magistrate without undoing any of the evil that I have painstakingly sown on Earth? I was in a real pickle. Then, during one of my weekly visits to the demon’s playground, which you people know as the Internet, I discovered something called “animal shelters.” And just like that, my problem was solved.
Have you guys heard of these? They’re these places you can go where you spend time “serving” and “helping out” without having to endure the disagreeable side-effect of improving the quality of life for another human being. How great is that?! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d much rather be hanging out in Michael Vick’s basement, but if I’ve got to be “making a difference” I’d much rather make a difference in the life of a parakeet than a person.
Now, I don’t want to send the wrong impression here. Many people assume I am an animal lover because I have hooves, horns and a prehensile tail. To those people, I say two things. First of all, I’m preparing to undergo reconstructive plastic surgery to correct some of those unfortunate “birth marks.” So back off! Secondly, I am not so much a lover of animals as a hater of peoples. That being the case, you can imagine my relief when I discovered my debt to the elderly people of Madison could be repaid without actually helping any of them! It’s a win, win, lose situation! I get the judge off my back, a couple dogs get sponge baths, and humanity is still mired in hopelessness and grief. Perfect!
I was also thrilled to find that these shelters rely on charitable donations to survive. I was looking to get a tax break on all the royalties I’ve been collecting from Daughtry’s latest album, and I think I just found the ticket! I get to feel the smug self-satisfaction of charitable giving without having to worry about any of the reduced poverty, eradicated disease, or improved education that usually accompanies it! I tell ya, it hasn’t been this easy to not make a difference since I bought my first “Free Tibet” bumper sticker back in the 80s.
Hell, I’m so amped on animals right now I think I might become a vegetarian while I’m at it!
With all the usual wishes for melancholy and infinite sadness,
Ruler of the Underworld and Deputy Mayor of Las Vegas
P.S. I haven’t been allowed to watch the game yet, but I’m feeling good about the Steelers’ chances on Sunday.