Brian won the lottery. Or did he?
Editor's note: As you know, Mr. Matuszak writes a weekly column for the Budgeteer. Usually, they are hand-delivered by a mysterious bald man wearing a floppy chicken hat and sweatpants. This odd person insists I meet him every Friday night behind R.T. Quinlan's, where he hands me several sheets of notebook paper covered in scribbled sentence fragments and regret. Being an accomplished editor, I have always been able to reconstruct this mess into a semi-coherent article of "humor."
Until this week.
When I arrived at the prearranged meeting place, I found two wrinkled envelopes duct-taped to a dumpster. One had "If I Win the Billion-Dollar Lottery" scrawled across the top in purple crayon. The other one simply said "Or Not" and that's the one I chose to run this week. I didn't take the time to edit it or, frankly, to even read it. For all I know, he put them in the wrong envelopes. But I had to get back into RT's. That Patsy Cline karaoke wasn't going to sing itself.
So long, suckers!!
By the time you read this, I'll be squatting on my volcano in the middle of Fiji, gulping caviar off gold-plated hubcaps and laughing at you Twin Ports losers for the final time, 'cuz this is the last column I'm ever writing!
See, I've never been fond of what you peasants call "work." Fifty-plus years of receiving a paycheck smaller than Minnesota Vikings playoff victories will do that to a guy. But no more!
I won the billion-dollar Powerball lottery this week, which means I can finally unpack those secret stacks of stolen "Doty for Mayor" lawn signs, soak 'em in lighter fluid and burn every single bridge from Madison County to Canal Park! What do I care? I JUST WON A BILLION DOLLARS!
To Emily Larson: Wake up and smell the potholes! Chuck Horton let you win! All that bluster was an act to make him look like an uninformed, blathering loon. He's actually a well-informed, articulate loon.
To Mom: You didn't throw away my Star Wars bubble gum cards in ninth grade. I did! I needed something to dig the sugar sandwich remnants out of my back molars. I know you felt horribly and I've held it over you for the past 40 years ... but have you heard? I JUST WON A BILLION DOLLARS!!
To Darren Danielson: I know the truth about Denny's "retirement" and how you orchestrated that entire ouster. You are evil incarnate, sir. And I respect that.
To everyone else: Goodbye and good riddance! If I never see you again, it'll be too soon! Take a long walk off a Duluth pier! What do I care? You're all dorky, dweeby, mouth-drooling dipsticks! Except for the good folks in Proctor.
I secretly love every one of you.
Brian Matuszak is the founder of Rubber Chicken Theater and invites you to follow him and his theater company on twitter.com/rchickentheater, like them on Facebook at Rubber Chicken Theater and visit their website at RubberChickenTheater.com. He did purchase a book entitled “How to Fix Bridges, Mend Fences and Kiss Butts” in case the editor runs the wrong column this week, which would never, ever happen.