And now, James Bond: My Evil Plan...
Whenever I pick up a newspaper and read an editorial written by a smoker who is up in arms about smoking bans, I can’t help but laugh a little. It usually starts out as a soft chuckle, but invariably it crescendos to a voluminous guffaw followed maniacal cackling. For you see, every time a smoker complains about his or her inalienable rights being trodden upon, I am once again reminded that the wheels of my evil plan are still in motion.
Sure, some people checked ‘yes’ to that referendum for the supposedly noble purpose of protecting themselves and their children from that carcinogenic haze. I, on the other hand, had a far greater agenda in mind. Do you think that the ban will end at standing twenty-five feet away from the entrance of an edifice to indulge yourself? [And by indulge, I mean smoking—public displays of intercourse are still permitted and encouraged.] Nay, it is indeed a slippery slope upon which those hapless, ‘yes’-checking minions of mine set us upon!
You see, I will personally see to it that that boundary is extended until the only areas of smoking permit will be enclosed polygons (Smoker’s Islands, if you will). Once a large enough group of smokers congregate to such a zone, a standard-issue fishing net will be cast upon them followed by cinching the opening and raising of the net via standard-issue crane. These addicted souls will then be trucked off to an isolation camp in International Falls, MN for treatment within the confines of barbed wire and patrolling mutant attack dogs.
Now, this sort of rough experience might prove to be an impetus for some to “kick the habit,” so to speak. This will not be permitted, as such was not the intent of my plan. Nay, by “treatment,” I actually meant “brainwashing into soulless world-domination attack army.”
Why would I want such emphysemic troops, you ask?
I concede that having soldiers that can only run ten feet—or, three meters—before resting on a strategically placed boulder is not the optimal constituency for a legion fit for rendering the planet defenseless. However, I make do with my lot. You see, the population group consisting of Smokers is one of the last groups you are allowed to publicly discriminate against and still be politically correct. In fact, my evil research shows that they are the only group that I am able to openly segregate to the point of amassing enough of them in one spot to toss a standard-issue fishing net over them. QED, an army consisting of brainwashed smokers is a cost-effective approach to world domination.
I mean, I’m already footing the cost of having my pupils replaced with flames. And hey, mutant attack dogs don’t come cheap. Don’t even get me started on the gigantic, oblong, HD-Ready hat that I’m having specially made in Amsterdam. I need to be creative with how I finance things.
I just don’t see how the opinionated ones are seeing through my genial, Asthmatic Boy Next Door (ABND) façade…
Sure, some people checked ‘yes’ to that referendum for the supposedly noble purpose of protecting themselves and their children from that carcinogenic haze. I, on the other hand, had a far greater agenda in mind. Do you think that the ban will end at standing twenty-five feet away from the entrance of an edifice to indulge yourself? [And by indulge, I mean smoking—public displays of intercourse are still permitted and encouraged.] Nay, it is indeed a slippery slope upon which those hapless, ‘yes’-checking minions of mine set us upon!
You see, I will personally see to it that that boundary is extended until the only areas of smoking permit will be enclosed polygons (Smoker’s Islands, if you will). Once a large enough group of smokers congregate to such a zone, a standard-issue fishing net will be cast upon them followed by cinching the opening and raising of the net via standard-issue crane. These addicted souls will then be trucked off to an isolation camp in International Falls, MN for treatment within the confines of barbed wire and patrolling mutant attack dogs.
Now, this sort of rough experience might prove to be an impetus for some to “kick the habit,” so to speak. This will not be permitted, as such was not the intent of my plan. Nay, by “treatment,” I actually meant “brainwashing into soulless world-domination attack army.”
Why would I want such emphysemic troops, you ask?
I concede that having soldiers that can only run ten feet—or, three meters—before resting on a strategically placed boulder is not the optimal constituency for a legion fit for rendering the planet defenseless. However, I make do with my lot. You see, the population group consisting of Smokers is one of the last groups you are allowed to publicly discriminate against and still be politically correct. In fact, my evil research shows that they are the only group that I am able to openly segregate to the point of amassing enough of them in one spot to toss a standard-issue fishing net over them. QED, an army consisting of brainwashed smokers is a cost-effective approach to world domination.
I mean, I’m already footing the cost of having my pupils replaced with flames. And hey, mutant attack dogs don’t come cheap. Don’t even get me started on the gigantic, oblong, HD-Ready hat that I’m having specially made in Amsterdam. I need to be creative with how I finance things.
I just don’t see how the opinionated ones are seeing through my genial, Asthmatic Boy Next Door (ABND) façade…
"ma'am"
3 Comments:
this was great. i've often deamt of smoker's island, patrolled by sharks with lasers attached to their cranial dorsal surfaces. i check "yes"
Ya and let's put fat obese people on that island too, after all they are causing my health insurance rates to go up with all those health problems that are equal to if not greater than smokers!!!!!
Where's the chicken, Err-ack? I ate a soy dog and Annie's White Cheddar Mac and Cheese because there was no elf or meat in my kitchen when I came home tonight.
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