I hate the high tax rates of all the existing countries on the earth; that’s why I bought an island and named it after myself. I also bought the surrounding ocean.
Bryan Island has palm trees and unclad women. (I had all the menfolk sent to America.) We go swimming in the clear blue water during the day, and at night we gather on the pink sand to do communal dances such as The Human Claw and The Frog Spring.
Our isle enjoys a constant stream of fresh female immigrants. Each incoming nymph is given a warm greeting; then I ask her to raise her right hand, so that I can swear her in, to make the citizenship official. The sacred vow goes as follows:
KING BRYAN: “Welcome to Bryan Land. I am King Bryan. Do you promise to be one of my hot-voodoo love-slaves?”
NEW RECRUIT: “Yes, please allow me to serve you on your Island of Doom.”
Now a colossal cauldron is carved in the top of the mount, to store all my precious gems, ingots, and coins. I also establish a pure gold landing-pad for my chopper. Finally, I don the blank facemask of divinity and take my seat on the crystalline god-throne. The multitudes sing pleasant songs to me continuously, while I work on calculating the best price to charge all the nations for planet-rent.
No comments:
Post a Comment