I’ve been watching the various town hall meetings closely. I haven’t been listening to them however, because every time a person in a suit talks, I yell at the television until my neck and cheeks are red like I learned in Debate Club.
Anyway, from what I read on the Closed Captioning, you’re forming something called a “Death Panel.” Aside from being a great name for a new Metal band, I understand that this “panel” will make life and death decisions and mete out insurance coverage accordingly. I also heard that babies below a certain birth weight will be used for skeet, and that the brittle bones of the elderly will be ground up to make blown-in, attic insulation in conjunction with your new Energy Conservation Plan.
This letter is a request to be a member of the “Death Panel.”
I’m very intuitive. For instance, during horror movies, I always know who is going to die next. Surely that’s a skill that would benefit the panel.
Also, when I’m driving, I’m very good at picking out who should die.
At seafood restaurants, it’s eerie how accurate I am at choosing which lobster will be the next to go…and at market price.
Until now, I’ve been unable to apply these God-given gifts, but a place on your “Death Panel” would change all that. I’ll even provide my own black, hooded cloak.
Thank you for your consideration.