Dear conservatives, neoconservatives, Sensible Liberals, and other assorted self-interested bastards who are currently running this country into the ground to satisfy your bottomless avarice:
Aren’t you tired of liberals like Brad standing in your way, pissing and moaning every time you try to find a new way to gouge every last farthing out of the last pocket of the last starving orphan in this country? Wouldn’t your life be easier if all these people with their so-called “consciences”, whatever they are, would just stop raining on your parade? Just think – without guys like Brad around, assholes like you could build a monorail in every town in America, and no one would stop you! Why, you could reduce every single American over the age of ten to a permanent state of debt peonage, and turn the whole country into your own personal plantation! You wouldn’t have to bother with any of this annoying “voting” nonsense anymore; nothing would stand in your way of total financial domination of the country.
Here’s a really easy solution I’ve found for you guys to make your financial destruction of the charming little people in this country who think they have “rights” just a bit quicker for y’all. No need to thank me – and I won’t even claim the idea as intellectual property. Use it as you see fit.
Just buy us out! It’s as simple as that. When you think about the money you’re about to make on the bailout package that Comrade Paulson has arranged for you guys, I’m sure you’ll see that even after you’ve paid off each and every one of us, you’ll still be coming out way ahead.
Here’s the deal: Offer each of us four to five times our annual salary in a lump-sum, nontaxable payment. In exchange, we agree to move to Canada and never again set foot in your own private little preserve that the rest of the world used to call “America”. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I know I’d take the offer in a heartbeat.
Once all of us have left the country, there will be nothing left to stop you, and you can roll over the “free market” in this country like the corpulent beached whales you are.
Who’s with me?
Above: Comrade Paulson imagines the joys awaiting him in an America with no Brads.