Apparently not everyone is a fan of this blog.
I recently heard from someone in Wisconsin who found it offensive. Later, as I was stuffing his body into the wood chipper, I got to thinking: “It's hard to do all this menial work and still write top-quality blog entries. I need some help.” I should mention that with the wood chipper, once the novelty wears off, destroying human tissue is pretty mindless work and my thoughts do tend to wander. “I know,” I said to myself and what was left of my critic, “I'll form a squad of Hulles Death Commandos. They can handle the enforcement side, and I'll concentrate on the writing side.”
This seems like a great idea to me, and I would urge all of you to consider enlisting. The way I imagine it, all you'll have to do is serve me with dog-like devotion both here and in the afterlife. Sure, there'll be a little fawning and boot-licking involved, but nothing too demeaning – I am a humble man, after all. You'll just have to remember to call me “El Caudillo” in public and “Master” in private, not too tough for bright people like you I should think.
Besides, you'll get this swell T-shirt. On the front it will say:
(Insert Logo Here)
Hulles Death Commandos
and on the back it will say:
They Get Naked Themselves
They'll Drive You Fearful
It won't really say “(Insert Logo Here)”, of course. I'm hoping one of you Commandos went to school to become a graphic artist but now bitterly works in a bar or coffee shop and can design a suitably fear-inspiring logo. Email me your submissions if you're interested. If it's a good logo, we'll all get tattoos except me. The words on the back are from a blog entry of mine, but then you knew that already, didn't you?
I don't really foresee a lot of physical violence being required in the Death Commandos. Intimidation should prove sufficient in most cases. Of course there will need to be the occasional gratuitously brutal killing pour encourager les autres, but hey, the team is called the Death Commandos after all, not the Harsh Language Commandos (although...).
One thing I can promise you is that there will be no suicide bombers (a.k.a. not-so-smart bombs) in the Commandos. I only expect so much for a T-shirt, and the dog-like devotion should pretty much cover it as far as I'm concerned. No need to rush for a good seat to serve me in the afterlife, there'll be plenty of room for everyone I'm sure.
So come on out to my ranch at New Lugburz and check it out. You'll get to be the brutal power-crazed storm trooper you always wanted to be, and I'll be freed up for the more cerebral aspects of the Hulles blog. We all win. Besides, I personally can't wait for the fawning and boot-licking. I get that so seldom these days.
I promise I'll be a kind master. Heh, heh.
The title comes from here.