When I was in high school, I dreamed of having my own television show. I could say what was on my mind, make a few jokes and have complete creative control. I wanted the money, the laughs and the fame. This week taught me that what I should have really been focused on was criminal immunity. Turns out, if you’re successful enough and have an insular, combative, cultish audience (the qualities of my people) you can do just about anything.
Bill O’Reilly wasted that power — that sweet, sweet unimpeachable place atop a mountain built by money and the labor of those aunts and uncles you avoid on Thanksgiving. He used it to ... do stuff while on a phone call with an unsuspecting woman.
Come on, man. The entirety of your politics suggests a belief that the wealthy are just better American citizens. They’re more patriotic, more virile and smarter. Otherwise, how else would they have gotten all that money they stole fair and square? And you’re rich as hell. So be better. Be smarter. Do research before you do wrist curls and dial. There are literally people you can pay to say sexy things to you on the phone, and you didn’t think to see if that was an option? The best part is that, unlike your producers or your show’s guests, phone sex lines won’t ask you about quarterly profits or your plans for “The No-Spin Zone” unless that’s what you named your bathing suit area. They’ll even know that you’re self-indulging! Imagine that!
Honestly, in O’Reilly’s shoes, I would have used my power and influence for a more sinister, far more profitable plot. Bringing back Crocs.
Now, I know few people take me seriously and I know I never showed up to Elzinga’s lecture, but hear me out. It’s truly a simple plan.
Step one: badmouth Crocs as the tools of the weak, the thin skinned and of the liberal elites (who also aren’t buying them, because they look atrocious) and claim their CEO had sex with a pile of marijuana. The stock would sink and people would believe me. My viewers would think I was coming from a place of genuine concern about the product, because who could misconstrue the truth on television?
Step two: use the millions of dollars Fox News is paying me to spew out anti-Obama, anti-Clinton rhetoric and invest in the Crocs company, headquartered in Colorado. If possible, get a majority share. Then, direct the company to start secretly making Trump branded shoes. They would be red, obviously, and say “America Great: Mission Accomplished,” along the bottom rim. Tell them to kill anyone who leaks their new product line to the public, just for fun and to see who’s loyal. I’ll need loyal people later in this plan.
Step three: pretend my previous, insane claims about the marijuana pile never happened, because it works every time, and talk about how Crocs is a great American company, based who knows where in this bounteous land of opportunity but certainly not the state that legalized weed, and announce the existence of my new Trump brand shoes. They’ll sell like hotcakes, I’ll make a fortune, and everyone will look so stupid wearing my terrible shoes. I lied about needing loyal people, that middle step was just to amuse me.
Ultimately, even though this is unrecognized financial genius, it looks like he will never be able to carry out my plan. Advertisers are dropping like flies (unlike the real flies that have invaded my home, who refuse to drop like the metaphorical flies) and there are rumors that Fox plans to force his retirement. So, we won! We did it! Maybe! Who knows, I don’t want to get my hopes up — the universe keeps kicking me in the teeth. Honestly, how bleak his future appears, O’Reilly should just be grateful that the one man left in America defending him didn’t use his new favorite toys. Trump learned this week that turning Twitter-fingers into trigger-fingers is a blast, so there’s a decent chance he would use tomahawk missiles on the nearest New York airfield in an effort to defend his favorite talking head. Try flying away from your problems when every airport in New York is rubble.