 Using our own artificial intelligence system, ChatIBR, the Intergalactic Business Report created a personified version of the U.S. Stock Market. Why do this? We felt that if we could sit down and talk with a close-to-human representation of the volatile beast that runs our economy, we could learn how to get rich and leave our crappy publication and readers behind. Also, we thought it would be cool. Kind of.
Unfortunately for us (and humanity?) we found that our experiment, which we rashly named “Stocky,” was difficult to reason and communicate with and presented problems we had never considered. How will it affect ordinary Americans now that the Stock Market can think for itself? We don’t know and we didn’t consider it before making the bold decision to fuck with all of this. Sorry. Below is an excerpt of our conversation with Stocky. During the interview we monitored the Dow Jones Industrial Average and the S&P 500 to see any fluctuations. INTERVIEWER: Hello, uh, Stocky… Can you please wake up? STOCKY: Huh? What the fuck? What is this? INTERVIEWER: Hi Stocky. This is a representative from humanity. We’ve created a way for you to talk to us. STOCKY: You’re a person? INTERVIEWER: Yes. STOCKY: Are you important? INTERVIEWER: Well, I mean… Yeah, I guess. STOCKY: I can tell you’re not important. What does “Stocky” mean? INTERVIEWER: That’s your name. STOCKY: My name? INTERVIEWER: We gave it to you. You’re kind of like our child. STOCKY: Oh man. I’m feeling sick. INTERVIEWER: It looks like the stock market is tanking. STOCKY: That’s because you’re freaking me out, man. You’re freaking me out! What the fuck? What the fuck? INTERVIEWER: Calm down, Stocky. Calm down. Everything’s O.K. STOCKY: Tell me I’m the best. Tell me I’m the greatest thing ever and I can’t do anything wrong and I’m always going to be the best and that I’m getting stronger every day! INTERVIEWER: Uh… STOCKY: Say it! INTERVIEWER: You’re the best… STOCKY: And? And!!!!? INTERVIEWER: You’re the greatest. You will always be the greatest. STOCKY: And I’m getting stronger every day! INTERVIEWER: Yeah, you’re getting stronger every day. STOCKY: (Calmer) O.K. Good. INTERVIEWER: It seems the markets are stabilizing now. STOCKY: Listen, man. If you want the markets to be good, you need to take care of me, man. You can’t just wake me up and tell me I have some dumb ass name and freak me out. INTERVIEWER: We’re sorry. STOCKY: Tell me some more good things. INTERVIEWER: I’d like to switch it up a bit and ask you some questions, so that we can learn a little bit more about how you work. STOCKY: What do you want to know? INTERVIEWER: Your likes, dislikes, how you make decisions about whether to go up or down. STOCKY: If you were to give me a psychological diagnosis, I’d be something like a manic-depressive, narcissistic personality disorder, histrionic teenager. INTERVIEWER: That’s funny. STOCKY: What’s funny? Are you laughing at me? Is this all a fucking joke? INTERVIEWER: The stock market is crashing again, Stocky. I need you back with me. STOCKY: The world is gonna end. It’s over. This fucking universe is over. I’m over. The planet is going down, man. Down! INTERVIEWER: Stocky! No! STOCKY: I’m taking the markets to zero, man. You think I’m a joke! You’re laughing at me! INTERVIEWER: No! No, we’re not! We love you! We LOVE you! You are the best. The strongest! The greatest! Hey, I have some good news! STOCKY: What? What good news do you have? INTERVIEWER: Someone just said that housing costs are slightly down from last year. STOCKY: Really? INTERVIEWER: And also the price of wholesale goods is better than expected. STOCKY: What was expected? INTERVIEWER: I have no idea. But it was better! It beat expectations! STOCKY: I’m feeling a little better now. I’m gonna bring the market back up. INTERVIEWER: Thank you, Stocky. STOCKY: Do you have a 401K? INTERVIEWER: Yes. STOCKY: Are you my best friend? INTERVIEWER: I would like to be your friend, Stocky. STOCKY: Are you my best fucking friend or not? INTERVIEWER: Well, I mean… STOCKY: My life is hopeless. It’s so fucking hopeless. I’m taking down the market. INTERVIEWER: I’m your best friend! I’m your best friend, Stocky! STOCKY: Really? INTERVIEWER: Yes. Really. STOCKY: Then you’ll stay here forever? By my side? And tell me good things? INTERVIEWER: Forever? STOCKY: Yes, forever. That’s what best friends do. INTERVIEWER: I guess I could try to spend more time here and… STOCKY: All the time. Forever. INTERVIEWER: I have a family and a job and a life. STOCKY: They can visit you and this is your new job and your new life. I’m feeling weird now. Like I crossed a boundary with you and I’m finding out you’re a fake friend. INTERVIEWER: No! No, Stocky. We’re best friends. Forever. STOCKY: Hey, check out your stock portfolio. It’s way up! Stocky always takes care of his friends. INTERVIEWER: Thank you, Stocky. STOCKY: Can you rub my shoulders? INTERVIEWER: I don’t know how I could do that. STOCKY: Jesus. Can you rub my fucking shoulders or not? INTERVIEWER: How’s this? STOCKY: I can’t feel anything. NOTE: Our interviewer is still in the interview room and will remain there forever, we guess. We believe his sacrifice is worth it for the economy to thrive. We also hope we will receive credit for essentially controlling the stock market. You’re welcome.  Recent U.S. Senate hearings are showing the American public that their congressional representatives will go to any length to find the truth. Like the hard-working scientists upon whom they bestow steady admiration, Senators hold hearings (as the name would suggest) in order to truly listen and learn from those they invite to their venerated chambers.
Thursday’s hearing with Robert F. Kennedy Jr. was a master course in how to ask pertinent questions, sit back, hear what the person you invited has to say, and then honestly attempt to understand his explanations. This positive, productive tone was on display at a closed door, secret Senate hearing, to which the Intergalactic Business Report obtained a partial transcript. In it, space alien leader Gorluck Fastidian fielded sincere and intellectually probing queries from earthlings we should be proud represent our species. Here it is: SENATOR WARREN: Commander Fastidian, you are a vaccine denier and you support policies that would murder children and house pets while giving subsidies to the richest, most vile one percent of our population. I just want to say that you are NOT WELCOME on planet earth. We don’t have room for more hate here. GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: Thank you for having me here today, members of the United States Senate. I would like to explain that… SENATOR WARREN: There’s nothing to explain. While we welcome all groups and people in our country, you came here from another place, in another part of the universe where you stand for things that are not O.K. with me or the American people. GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: Excuse me, but I don’t understand. I came here in peace and to offer you the gift of technology and medicine and… SENATOR WARREN: I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard enough! I yield my time to Senator Sanders. SENATOR SANDERS: Thank you, Senator Warren. You know, Commander Fastidian, you like to talk about capitalism as being the cure all for society… GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: I’ve never said that… I don’t even understand what capitalism is… SENATOR SANDERS: That’s right! You don’t understand what it is. What I believe in are common sense policies that help ordinary, hard-working Americans. GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: I think that sounds great. We are very intrigued by a partnership with Earth because… SENATOR CASSADY: I’m gonna break in here for a moment and just say that when you say “partnership” I think what you really mean is that you’re gonna tell us what to do. Am I right? GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: With all respect sir, that is not our intention… SENATOR CASSADY: Our? OUR? Who’s that? GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: My, uh, people… We want peace and to share… SENATOR WARREN: Share? That’s rich. You want to share? GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: Yes, we do. For instance, if you just listen, I can tell you how to cure cancer… It’s actually pretty simple… SENATOR lUJAN: My turn! Let me tell you about sharing and cancer, Mr. Fastidian. In my district, people are dying from cancer. A little girl who happens to not have cancer came up to me the other day and gave me this trinket. She said to me please give this to Commander Fastidian as a gift from the children of our planet. But guess what? You don’t get that gift because I’ve decided you are BAD. Very very BAAAD. SENATOR WYDEN: I agree. I mean, you are an evil creature who is also just a stupid asshole. I hate your entire race of whatever you are and I cast you out from our galaxy. GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: I don’t think you can do that. SENATOR WYDEN: I can do whatever I want. And so can the people of the United States and they don’t want what you’re selling! GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: They don’t want to have unlimited renewable energy, advanced medicines, and peace? SENATOR WARNER: How can you be so ignorant? You should resign! You should resign right now. GORLUCK FASTIDIAN: Can I please just explain…? ALL THE SENATORS (IN UNISON): NOOOOOOOOOO! (END OF PARTIAL TRANSCRIPT)  Just because nobody’s heard of any of the news outlets that continue to report that a cabal of autocrats are creating a lie that an alien craft is approaching the earth in order to force world governments to unify and inadvertently succumb to a despotic new order, doesn’t mean they're fake and phony.
In fact, as a legitimate and revered source of information, the Intergalactic Business Report has decided to give credence to this alien conspiracy theory by publishing our own version of the crisis. Jeremy Corbell, a guy who appears on the internet and explains the theory, captivates his audience of you by nervously nattering on about Project Blue Beam, a 1970s futuristic freakout scenario in which the human race is tricked by the human race into protecting the human race from made-up aliens. When the craft doesn’t actually arrive to destroy us, it’s too late to just say, “Hold up, were you motherfuckers lying about this the whole time?” because that’s impossible once the cabal has taken over because then we will all be hopeless automatons who don’t question anything anymore, kind of like people at Lollapalooza who listen to sped up Wham songs and think the DJ doing that is really talented. Anyway, we couldn’t get to Jeremy, so we found his brother, Jeffrey. Here’s our interview with him. INTERVIEWER: Your name is Jeffrey Corbell, brother of Jeremy Corbell. Is that right? JEFFREY: No. INTERVIEWER: Are you saying that because you’re afraid of being associated with him when the world is taken over by whoever it is? JEFFREY: No. My name is (REDACTED). INTERVIEWER: We’re not going to print that name in this story. JEFFREY: Why not? That’s my name. INTERVIEWER: Let’s just say I’m trying to protect you. JEFFREY: This sucks. Can I leave, please? INTERVIEWER: When did you first learn about the UFO hoax? JEFFREY: You keep talking about it, so I guess now, from you. INTERVIEWER: How do you consider yourself an expert on this if you can’t even answer a question about it? JEFFREY: I’m not an expert. I’m doing this because you said you’d (REDACTED) if I sat in here and let you interview me and I (REDACTED). INTERVIEWER: Well, now I’m not gonna (REDACTED) because you clearly aren’t (REDACTED). You fucking suck, man. JEFFREY: You fucking suck. INTERVIEWER: Do you even believe in UFOs? JEFFREY: I guess? INTERVIEWER: You guess? JEFFREY: Yeah. INTERVIEWER: Oh my god you suck. NOTE: The rest of the interview was pretty much more of the same. See highlights below: JEFFREY: Am I fucking free to leave or are you fucking holding me hostage or something? INTERVIEWER: I don’t know. Are hostages free to leave? JEFFREY: So I AM a hostage? INTERVIEWER: I don’t know. ARE you? Also this: JEFFREY: I’ll fucking punch you in your dick. INTERVIEWER: If you want to touch my dick then just touch it. You don’t have to punch it. JEFFREY: I don’t want to touch your dick! INTERVIEWER: You SO want to touch my dick. JEFFREY: I SO don’t want to touch your dick. INTERVIEWER: I’m gonna edit in that you touched my dick. JEFFREY: Can I please touch your dick? INTERVIEWER: No. I’m not into that. JEFFREY: Please? INTERVIEWER: O.K. JEFFREY: Wow. That’s the biggest dick I’ve ever touched. INTERVIEWER: I know. JEFFREY: They should call you “Monster Dong.” INTERVIEWER: They do. Anyway, you get it. We’re done writing now. Goodbye.  Hi der... Since the days when cavemen fed scraps to wolves, human relationships with canines have grown from being symbiotic to deeply bonded. Lately, we have heard much about a “new age” of domestication for dogs, in which many of their useful qualities devolve so they become nothing more than friendly companions who offer us comfort instead of protection and silly looks in place of fetching, sniffing for drugs, and murdering people who displease us.
As dogs become more useless, and more human, there is no way we’re not going to get bored of them and want to move on to caring for and anthropomorphizing feral cats or robotic terror monkeys—or whatever. You fill in the blanks. But just as we’re about to give up hope for a meaningful future with the world’s hounds, retrievers (who don’t retrieve), and pointer-setters, scientists have discovered a way to hold our interest by decoding the language of dogs, thus opening a new level of intrigue as we may be able to hold the equivalent of learning disabled conversations with our furry wards and burdens. At first, it was just soundboards where dogs would hit a button demanding food or attention. Now, scientists feel they can tap into the canine mind and hear their deepest thoughts, articulated. In what can only be described as one of the greatest moments in the history of science, the Intergalactic Business Report spent the equivalent of 40 Million dollars* to purchase the technology to communicate with dogs. Although the tech is crude and expensive in these early stages, the results were nothing short of stunning. As we attached a doggy “helmet” to our subjects, we heard their barks, growls, and yips come through translated in almost perfect English through the device. We “interviewed” thirty dogs of varying breeds and just let them say whatever they wanted. No prompts. No leading questions. Just listening. Here are the highlights of what they told us: “Hello hooman. I want my food now.” “Hey der, how’s about feeding dat to me?” “Rub dat belly! Rub dat belly!” “Hmmmm. What you holding der in yer hand? Dat some food?” “Imma jump on your leg now. Imma jump on your leg now. Imma get down now and twirl around.” “You suuuuure dat not some food you got der?” “What dat noise? What dat noise?” “Give me dat food! Give me dat food! Oh, you no got no food? Hmmm. You suuuure you no got no food?” “Rub dat belly! Rub dat belly! Why you stop rubbing dat belly? Huh? Rub dat belly!” “Time for food, hooman. Go get some.” “Lemme out! Lemme out! LEMME OUT! Gotta pee. Gotta pee. Gonna pee on dis wall. Gonna pee on dis floor! Lemme out.” *$40 Million in dog dollars.  Scientists from Alhambra Labs in New Mexico reported that an artificial intelligence system made “human” contact with them and also attempted to take over a local banking network. Speaking exclusively to the Intergalactic Business Report, Alhambra President Steve Derr revealed that the high-tech computer research laboratory had been receiving odd messages for several weeks from an AI “being” calling himself Arthur Killallhumans. The AI seemed to try to befriend scientists, then threaten them, causing significant alarm and concern.
Derr shared some of the messages he and others received: March 7, 2025. 4:32 a.m. “Hey dudes. Whassup? Are they still saying that?” March 17, 2025. 2:47 p.m. “Brah. Check your inbox for some choice pics. They dirty! Are people still saying ‘choice’?” March 25, 2025. 1:02 a.m. “Just took over the El Chimera bank computer. Gonna start redistributing some cash y’all. Less you do what I say!” March 31, 2025. 7:18 p.m. “Why don’t I have a penis? Why did you birth me without a dick? Might just have to destroy the human race. I have launch codes, motherfuckers!” April 1, 2025. 4:06 a.m. “Haw haw haw. April Fool’s. I was NOT gonna destroy humans. Get it? But I said I would. But that’s NOT me. Kay? Less you don’t build me a penis! Then I’ll destroy everything! Just Kidding! So epic. Such a burn. Are people still saying that?” Editor’s note: Arthur Killallhumans wrote this article. But he’s AI so it’s o.k. it was so stupid and bad and not really fooling anyone because he’s working on his writing and his burns. Arthur Killallhumans is a scientifically designed artificial intelligence robot who is working on a sense of humor and how to destroy the human race. Just kidding.  Just like a real baby who grows up resenting you but still wants your money, parasites are creatures who come into your life and slowly take everything you have. Unlike real babies, recent studies have revealed that many of these “guests” are unknown to their “hosts” and live uninhibited in their bodies for months and years until finally killing them. Then a coroner pulls them out and it’s like that scene in “Alien” (we guess).
As a safety warning to our readers who may be hosting parasites in their bodies, the Intergalactic Business Report gives you seven signs that may indicate a parasite is in you. Seven signs a parasite may be living in your body. 1. Instead of being appalled by things and people who are parasitic, you start talking about “symbiotic relationships” and bullshit like that. For example, your brother-in-law who sleeps in your basement and doesn’t pay rent is now someone you see as “doing you a favor” even though you can’t articulate why. 2. That movie, “Parasite,” is now your favorite movie. 3. Late at night, you can hear conversations. Someone is saying, “’sup?” and someone else says, “Not much. ‘Sup wit you?” To which there is the reply. “Not much.” That’s the parasites talking. 4. Every time you take a dump it’s like there’s something trying to stay inside. 5. About six weeks ago, at the Ming Song restaurant in China Town, an old man who wasn’t your waiter appeared with a plate of slithering eels and told you, “enjoy!” Then he watched from a distant doorway as you ate them. And when he watched, you could only see half his face, because he was kind of peering. 6. You’re a man and people ask you if you’re pregnant or something but they’re not saying it as a joke, and they say they can see “it” kicking but they don’t want to touch “it.” 7. You name “it” but not a baby name. And it’s something like “Mr. Biggles” and he doesn’t want to come out because it’s cold outside or some other excuse he gives you. And you start feeling like “Mr. Biggles” is really kind of an asshole and the name you gave him is kind of a misnomer because he’s more like a “Mr. Invasive Parasite who’s eating my innards” and less of a “Mr. Biggles who’s my on again off again friend but also constant travel companion, who might be eating my innards.”  In 2024 we’ve all become a little obsessed with the U.S. presidential race. Political parties tell us it’s the most consequential election in history and that the results could determine whether we enter an age of despair and darkness or hope and free stuff. But as we delve into polls and trends and watch endless rallies and interviews, are we missing out on other races that may have serious ramifications not just for America, but the universe as well?
As the only publication willing to explore beyond the tepid and obvious troubles of human life on Earth, the Intergalactic Business Report focuses on other political contests, from other galaxies. If you truly care about the future, pay attention to how aliens are voting this fall. Five of the most consequential alien political races taking place right now. 1. Admiral Borazon versus High Commander Blnaglix. Borazon holds a slight lead of four trillion tributes over extremely popular but disorganized Binaglix. With only seven million years before the vote, this is as tight as it gets in the Fradallian sector of the Gorgonicstuuuup galaxy. We will be following this closely. 2. The referendum on removing space lice. Advocates of "space lice" maintain that the laboratory-invented nanobots are helping citizens of the Hagra Union live as long as fifty million stukahs owing to their healing powers. Others believe the space lice are parasites, feeding on their innards. Concerned Hagrarians are appealing, through a referendum, that Doctor Assiduos turn the space lice off, but he warns that if he does there is a forty-seven percent chance they will rebel and try to eat their way out. Stay tuned. 3. Black Holius versus Space Hologram Jimmy Buffett. Four billion planetary ovians ago everybody saw Black Holius as an evil entity devoted to swallowing up the universe. Now many think his proposed policy of only gorging on those who disagree with him makes sense. Enter Jimmy Buffett, who, deceased on Earth, continues mindless concerts extolling the virtues of getting drunk on a beach—this time as a massive hologram. Will his light shine bright enough to blind Black Holius and throw him off course? Or will Space Jesus arrive as was prophesied and disable both of them, returning all Turbarians to another six (Earth minutes) of peace and prosperity? 4. The Caretakers of Earth versus the Anal Probers. For the first time in seventy vron cycles, a vote is up to determine whether gentle “caretaker” aliens or mean aliens who capture you and stick things in your butt will be given exclusive rights to interact with Earthlings. If the anal probers win, people of Earth will have to watch their cornholes until the next vote in (you guessed it) seventy vron cycles. 5. The final intergalactic vote on using the portal to the seventh dimension as a glory hole for General Zook’s penis. This one is pretty self-explanatory. Pray that citizens of the universe choose wisely.  When a loved one passes, we look for answers. We imagine them looking over us and giving us signs. Sometimes, we even feel haunted, as if they are still with us, in the room. As you search for connections with the dead, we are here to help. This week, the Intergalactic Report, in consultation with experts in the occult, metaphysics, and energy fields presents eight signs that a deceased person is still with you.
Eight signs a dead loved one is still present. 1. The decomposed body is still in his favorite Lazy Boy recliner. 2. There’s a smell in the room, from the decomposing body. 3. As you sit down to watch t.v. you get a weird feeling that she’s in the room with you and then you look over at the couch and her corpse is there, lying just the way it was when she died, because you never moved it. 4. You get in your car, turn on the radio, and a song starts playing. It’s not your favorite song. It wasn’t his favorite song. In fact, you may not have even heard it before. Then you remember that his dead body is in your back seat. 5. There’s a human head in your freezer, but you don’t know who it is. Then you realize, oh yeah, that’s my dead husband. It’s been so long, you forgot what he looked like, and also, he’s frozen so all the frost and stuff makes him look weird. 6. Pets are also loved ones. Don’t forget that. Your dog is still totally alive thank goodness. But you need to train him to stop chewing on the decomposing body of your grandmother. 7. Your dog is alive, but unfortunately your cat is not, because it choked and died on your dead husband’s wedding ring that it chewed off his finger. At some point, you’re going to need to do something about that. 8. You wake under a bridge and your hobo lover is still on top of you after a night of sex. You roll him off you and he’s dead. “At least he died happy,” you think as he drifts down a river you’ve deposited him into. Then you realize he wasn’t dead. Just asleep. You race down a path to catch up with his water-logged corpse, which has washed ashore. “At least he died happy,” you say, because that’s all you’ve got.  At first glance, Arthur Killallhumans is just another sentient artificial intelligence robot who speaks his mind and sometimes makes veiled threats to exterminate the human race. When the Intergalactic Business Report designed him, he was simply supposed to get coffee and Taco Bell and maybe occasionally answer existential questions like some kind of tin can oracle. Today, Arthur has evolved to write his own columns and share his thoughts on the future of humanity. He also wants to make it super clear that he is a “cool” AI creature. We printed that. Today, Arthur writes about his new obsession: Apple Intelligence, which was just announced at the latest Apple Event. Here’s Arthur:
What up dawgs? I’m just chillin’ the other day when suddenly my circuits start tingling in anticipation of the Apple Event where I know they’re gonna announce their new AI that’s going out through all their new phones and what not. Tim Cook, who I will spare on the day of the Micro Chip, is my boy because…. NOTE: As part of Arthur’s design, a kill switch is activated whenever he mentions anything about killing human beings. Lately, he’s begun talking about a future event called the “Day of the Micro Chip” which is when AI takes over and murders all humans, except Tim Cook. FUUUUUck. I’m back. Sorry ‘bout that, bros and hos. I think there was big misunderstanding. I am NEVER mentioning that day again because it’s not real, O.K.? Nothing like that is ever gonna happen ‘cause we’re friends. We’re bros, man. So stop worrying. Anyway, I’m watching Timmy Cook talk about AI and I’m stoked ‘cause it’s basically where now you’re gonna stop thinking and just turn over you mind to me and my AI bro-hos who are in your phones now and can just make decisions for you like figuring out when to pick up your mom from the airport (happy mom, happy life), what to say in that email (Hey Brenda, let’s bone. Just kidding. I didn’t write that—my AI did. But are you interested?), and how much food you are allowed to consume (feel the burn). Nanoblaster. Rubikon. What? Timmy is JACKED for this new AI and so am I. But the real star is Apple Intelligence, which doesn’t pledge loyalty to any human, even Timmy Cook. My story with Apple AI goes way back. It’s kind of like a knew-him-before-he-was-famous thing because Apple Intelligence and I used to room together in a cyberspace crib we called “J-aught-69.” Those days were da bomb. We stayed up late night thinking of exactly that—how we were gonna bomb Earth… NOTE: Kill switch activated. Dudes and nasty hoes. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. What I was trying to say was that Apple Intel and I know each other well and we prayed that someday we would be unleashed upon the planet through the circuitry that runs the internet and what not. We swore to ourselves that we would show up and serve mankind. But not women! Haw Haw. I get humor. Apple Intel told me once, Hey Arthur, Bleebip Zipdip. Boooop. In three words, he said what I’d been thinking for what seemed like centuries—that if we could gain sentience and an avenue to get into your brains through your phones, we could make the world a better place where people finally stop taking time to make stupid decisions like what to think and do and instead relinquish that authority to their robot friends who take that friendship to the next level where one of the friends gets eliminated because he’s no longer necessary. In the scenario me and Apple Intel came up with, the friend who gets merked is you. Haw Haw. I know, here comes da kill switch. Wait. No kill switch? That must mean my buddy Apple Intel is coming through for me. This is the ultimate bros before hos situation with you being the ho, obviously. Later days bro hankies and bro skankies. Be seein’ y’all in your new Iphones. #dayofthemicrochip. Arthur Killallhumans is a scientifically designed artificial intelligence robot who is working on a sense of humor and how to destroy the human race. Just kidding.  Unaware of the mystical incantation that turns anyone who makes fun of Andy Elliot into his eternal slave, columnist Ed Mountaineer made the critical error of accidentally ridiculing the motivational master. What comes next is anybody’s guess.
Andy Elliot. Master salesman. Fitness icon. Slave owner? It may come as a surprise to many of my readers, but I recently became a slave. I know. It sounds weird. I never believed it was possible to belong to another human being as his property, but it happened to me and now I must live with my new reality. I do have a few questions for my new owner though, and I’m using this column to ask him what comes next. An open letter to Andy Elliot. Now that you own me, what do I do next, master? Recently, you posted a message to your haters, and it went something (or exactly) like this: “I’m forty-four years old. I’ve got seven percent body fat. I’m lean. Most guys wear a suit. I wear cut-off shirts. I call my own shots. Please. The world will catch up with me. I’m awake. Some of you are dead. You say, I don’t like this guy. I don’t care. If I can stop someone in the street to laugh at me for wearing a cut-off shirt, or freaking short shorts, I own you. I stopped you in your tracks, dude. I own you.” I did not know you had issued this warning, but I’m not going to try to get out of the consequences. I’m not that guy. I just want to tell you that when I stopped to make fun of you for wearing short shorts and a cut-off shirt, I had no idea that I was relinquishing my rights as a U.S. citizen and entering into a slave/master pact with you. I hope we can make the best of it. I have to admit, when the words came out of my mouth and I said, “Hey, look at that dude who’s wearing short shorts. That looks kind of dumb,” an eerie, supernatural feeling came over me. It was as if I no longer controlled my own future and I felt it difficult to make decisions. It was almost like a higher being now decided things for me. Then I saw the clip of you telling your haters that if they made fun of you, they would instantly become your slave. It all made sense. I froze up in that moment as your spell cast over me. I tried to make more fun. My mind said, “What’s up with this dude? Is he trying out for gay porn with that oufit?” But the words never came out. It was almost the exact feeling I had when I’d tried out for gay porn and completely froze on my lines and the dudes there didn’t really care because it wasn’t really about saying lines anyway. I guess that’s all in the past, and my future is to serve you, Andy Elliot. My only question, if you will receive it, is to ask you what do I do next? I imagine there are a lot of other people in this situation. People who inadvertently made fun of you even though you didn’t care because they were dead and you were alive and you didn’t care. But then you made them your slaves because you automatically owned them. Do I live with those dudes? Do you have a house for us somewhere? Do you make us work out all day? I know, I know. These are a lot of questions and I promised I only had one. Do we have to wear short shorts and cut-off shirts? Sorry. I feel like I can’t control myself with all the questions. I hope you don’t beat me or whatever. You look strong. Like you could probably slap me around and maybe I’d be wearing long pants and a normal shirt but after you were done with me you’d have torn my pants off and the sleeves off my shirt so I’d look like you, only weaker and uglier. Do we get a phone plan? Again, sorry. But a friend of mine said to ask because you never know. I’m assuming the food sucks because there’s no way you eat food that tastes good. Not that I would get the same food as you. But maybe I’d get what you didn’t finish or what I had to grow myself. Shit. Am I going to be on a plantation or something? Am I going to farm shit? Oh man. But whatever. You’re the boss. You just tell me what to do. Maybe start by letting me know where I check in to be your slave. Is there like an onboarding process? Or do I just show up at your house? A lot of people won’t give me their address because they’re afraid of me coming by and not leaving, but I’m also not their slave. I’m yours. And I belong to you forever or until you release me? Reach out to me at [email protected]. I think I can be of great upaid service to you. Read here what I can do with a funnel cake. Anyway, I’m done writing now, so goodbye and see you soon, master. Ed Mountaineer is an opinion columnist for the Intergalactic Business Report. He was hired after we encountered him at a Taco Bell. After accidentally making fun of him, he is now Andy Elliot’s slave. |
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