I stand before you today to announce my decision to concede that I don’t have it in me to continue to pursue my lifelong dream of becoming the first legally dead, Russian-born, literary critic, and robot to become president of these United States.
I’ll make this short. Though Mr. Slack and I have recently seen ourselves rising, nay surging, in the polls, I must reveal to one and all that I have been receiving death threats. I attribute these threats to the spirits of the deceased who wish to be forgotten; who no longer seek to remain citizens, for one reason or another; who have “had it” with the deplorable state of our body politic; and who adhere to the long tradition of [words indecipherable by reason of the cacophonous slamming of pewter mugs on the faux-mahogany bar] . . . Thank you. Thank you very much . . . grateful . . . been my pleasure . . . etc. . . . Drinks on the house!