Your Elected OfficialDear Teens,
Let it be known it's been a rough week down here at the offices of yours truly. Every time I try to get a scrap of work done, I can't help but break down in tears and take one of my unlimited personal days to clear the old noodle. Even though my age, schooling, and career make me much more powerful and important than you, I'm sure we've all been asking ourselves the same questions. Like "When will this stop?" and "What kind of a loving god would let this happen?" Well, I'm here to tell you I'm going to put an end to all of this: an end to teens being rude to me about gun control.
I'm not sure what's happened recently, but for some reason people nowadays think they can just stroll up to an elected official and list their grievances. Why, I can't tell you the amount of times I've been out to a nice meal with a wealthy donor when some nobody comes up to my table screaming "fracking exploded my family" this, and "no clean drinking water since 2014" that. If the bill I introduced passes, walking up to me in public will eventually count as assault in the first degree, but until then my feelings are seriously at stake. You know what it's like to throw away half an 18-dollar slice of tiramisu just because some uppity protester got in your face and soured your appetite? I hope you never have to know such loss.
Really, is there a need for all of this rudeness? When the last shooting happened, I did what I was elected to do. I marched into my secretary's office, told her "post something on Twitter about the gun thingy," and immediately headed over to the lobbyist meet 'n greet at the steakhouse. Honestly, my hands are tied, and saying cruel things about adults like me at clearly staged events isn't going to win you any favors. In my day, if there was a school shooting, we'd suck it up, tuck in our shirts--you all know decreasing shirt untuckedness is one of my major platforms--and ask the gym teacher to add tactical defense rolls to the curriculum. Of course, you kids can't even play dodgeball these days, so who am I kidding?
Do you teens think you can just scream at me and expect anything to get done? That's not how the system works. Even if some of you could vote, you're clearly not going to be attending the fancy parties where my top constituents help me shape public policy. Sometimes it's through a friendly conversation; other times, they write a helpful reminder in the "memo" section of their check. This is how democracy works--it's certainly not a majority of people getting together and deciding they want things a certain way. To me, that sounds like chaos! And bowing down to mob rule is certainly not what I was elected for.
You think you're scared? Look at it from my perspective. While I'm sitting behind my computer, doing important work like emailing staff to tell them what my assistant is bringing to our monthly potluck, a dangerous teen could very well kick down my door and pepper my office with high-velocity questions and accusations. Teens, the wounds bullets leave behind can be medically treated. But the damage you do to a man's ego and reputation? That can last a lifetime. Think about that while you spin your fidgets or tide your pods or whatever it is you kids do these days.
It needs to consume human tissue! It needs to speak to your manager!
Scourgelord Vilius Mandragore gave a speech from our shattered capital on Friday and we are here to fact check his claims about his million year empire.
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