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I found a scrap of paper in my pocket

Rebutted on May 23, 1999.

I yet again ignored Fermat’s Last Theorem as I drove from St. Croix to Tucson early Tuesday morning. The interstate was closed, as a large meteor had blown it off the face of the Earth last Sunday, so I drove all the way on dirt roads and cow paths (and cow pies). Stay out of this! I don’t need any crap from you now!!

Nervous!? I found a scrap of paper in my pocket when I picked up my clothing from the dry cleaner’s on Thursday; it wasn’t there when I had brought my clothes in. Printed in faded brown ink was a list of names. After jumping over a burning Siamese cat, I read the names: Jerry Falwell, Bebe Neuwirth, Alphonse Capone, Karyn Parsons, Jimi Hendrix, Alan Bates, Jack Lord, Lucy Lawless, Michele Maika, David Ben-Gurion, Zen Gesner, Joseph Stalin, Paul Newman, William Shakespeare, Slobodan Milošević, Enrico Fermi, Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan, Drew Barrymore, Wayne Gretzky, Bruce Wayne, John Doe, Alex Borstein, John Wilkes Boothe, Clark Kent, Khaled Mardam-Bey, John Knowles, Tiger Woods, Jesus Christ, Charles de Gaulle, Hafez al-Assad, Phillip Årp, Barney Gumble, Milton Berle, Karl Marx, Michael Jordan, Martin Luther, Christina Applegate, John Calvin, Robert Hode, Christopher Reeves, the Pathet Lao, Jerry Springer, Herman Göring, Cordell Walker, Alyssa Milano, Peter Parker, and Colin L. Powell.

When I saw my name there, I spun around and screamed, “Yayowww! Yayowww! Yayowww! Yayowww!” I knew the screaming stars, or maybe the bottles of melted butter in my glove compartment, were responsible. Look at this. What are you gonna do with this? I won’t allow it! Like it or not, I’m gonna have to hold you to it. The spiders sang loudly again, as the stars screamed and the straw in my soda cowered under a tire.