George Washington Is Cash Money

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George Washington Is Cash Money Page 15

by Cory O'Brien; Illustrated by Soren Melville


  Still, he gets the guitar

  and I cannot for the life of me figure out why

  but he keeps practicing

  even when everyone he runs up on

  seems intent on finding ever more creative ways

  to tell him how bad he sucks.

  Like, if I had a nickel

  for every dude who told young Elvis he couldn’t sing

  well, I’d still be nowhere near as wealthy as Elvis

  especially when you factor in inflation

  but I’d have a lot of nickels

  which I could put in a sock and hit people with

  and in the end, isn’t that what really matters?

  But young Elvis don’t care.

  He just keeps on losing singing contests

  and styling his hair with Vaseline and antigravity

  until one day he struts into this record studio

  and he gets DISCOVERED.

  Now, there is a reason why this happens

  and it’s a pretty racist reason.

  See, at this time in ancient American history

  white people and black people are not on great terms

  especially in the South, where Elvis lives.

  Black people can’t even see a white CONCERT

  and vice versa.

  But there are a bunch of white dudes

  who REALLY dig the music black people are making.

  They just wish it was a white guy singing it, is all

  and along comes Elvis

  who grew up listening to this music

  and has, like, the PERFECT VOICE for it

  so the white dudes who own the record label are like

  “All right

  we can make this work.”

  AND MAKE IT WORK THEY DO.

  And they also make MANY DOLLARS

  and not only that

  but when Elvis starts doing concerts

  it turns out that he is also SUPER SEXY

  like, he starts waggling his hips

  because he is actually pretty nervous

  but it turns out that with every waggle of his hips

  he is also waggling the heartstrings

  of EVERY LADY IN THE ROOM.

  He waggles their heartstrings so hard

  that they start throwing their g-strings at him

  and then make him autograph their sexyparts

  which, in the 1950s, is anything above the ankle.

  So of course he keeps doing these hip-waggles.

  In fact, he starts waggling his hips EVEN MORE

  and some people don’t approve of this waggling

  like devout Christians and stuff

  which is funny, because Elvis is also super Christian

  he’s just a Christian who likes to waggle.

  But all the anti-wagglers in the world

  can’t stop Elvis

  who gets super rich and well-known

  and starts being in movies and stuff

  until DISASTER STRIKES:

  Elvis Presley gets drafted into the U.S. ARMY.

  He’s fine with that, though

  because he is a GODDAMN AMERICAN HERO.

  So he gets shipped over to Germany for a while

  and every time he goes on leave

  he records like a million top-selling records

  and meanwhile he uses all of his crazy riches

  to buy all kinds of swag for his army buddies

  like new fatigues, and color TVs, and amphetamines.

  He also manages to not get killed, which is good.

  Then he comes back home

  and wastes seven years on terrible music/movies

  until finally he’s like “Wait a second . . .

  Didn’t I used to be a total badass or something?”

  At which point he puts on a white sequined jumpsuit

  rivaling the combined glory of Zeus and Ramses

  and he does him some CONCERTS.

  I’m sorry, did I say SOME concerts?

  I meant ALL the concerts.

  This guy is pulling off like 170 concerts a year!

  That is too many concerts!

  And as if that wasn’t enough

  he is also constantly improving his crazy mansion

  (Graceland)

  which is located at

  3764 Elvis Presley Boulevard in Memphis, Tennessee.

  Wait

  how is ELVIS FUCKING PRESLEY number 3764

  on the street that BEARS HIS NAME??

  Well, whatever.

  The point is that it’s a modern-day pleasure palace

  complete with plush purple drapes

  an indoor waterfall

  and limitless hamburgers.

  Elvis likes to sit in the basement

  watching three TVs at once

  changing channels by shooting TVs WITH GUNS.

  CHANNEL SURFING WITH GUNS:

  THE MOST AMERICAN ACTIVITY THERE IS.

  And as if THAT wasn’t enough

  Elvis also gets wayyy into KARATE.

  Yeah, he starts learning all these deadly moves

  and jumping around and doing karate chops on stage

  and at one point

  some dudes try to bum-rush him

  during a show

  and he BEATS THE SHIT OUT OF THEM

  BY HIMSELF.

  (Also one of his wives bangs her karate instructor

  so there’s that.)

  But he’s doing WAY TOO MANY concerts/drugs.

  He’s only about forty

  but he is on so many drugs

  that his age is effectively doubled.

  His circulatory system is like that party house

  where everyone went when you were in college

  the one where they never had time to clean the vomit

  because of too many parties.

  You know what I’m talking about.

  Well, even if you don’t, I’m sure Elvis would have.

  He’s just stumbling up to the mic at this point

  holding on for dear life

  slurring his words

  like he’s giving a drunken blowjob to a horse.

  It’s not pretty

  nobody likes it

  and his audiences are getting less and less sexy too.

  So after selling over seventy-five million records

  and topping even more charts with his albums

  than with his blood-toxicity levels

  Elvis finally goes down.

  He dies on the floor of his bathroom in Graceland

  with about fifteen different drugs in his system

  which is pretty legendary on its own.

  But what happens afterward is even more legendary.

  So you remember Hercules, right?

  You remember how he died

  after a long and storied career

  because his wife gave him POISON?

  But then he didn’t really die

  because the gods took pity on him

  and put him in SPACE??

  Yeah, I think you know where this is going.

  Because Elvis may have died of a drug overdose

  but he was such a radical musician

  that ALIENS took pity on him

  and put him

  (say it with me now)

  INNNNNNNN SPAAAAAAACE.

  And to this day, his worshipers perform his rites

  dressing in his traditional garb

  reenacting his greatest achievements

  holding massive conventions in his name every year

 
saying prayers and bringing offerings

  to his final resting place

  in the meditation garden at Graceland.

  And on top of that

  on top of ALL THAT

  there’s his name

  which is

  (say it with me now)

  THE KING.

  QED, BITCHES.

  J. ROBERT OPPENHEIMER IS THE GOD OF GUNS

  So this war is going on, right?

  What am I saying

  there’s ALWAYS a war going on

  but guys

  I swear this war is different

  because World War Two

  is a war

  TO END ALL WARS.

  Now, granted

  fighting a war to end all wars

  is sort of like

  eating a cyanide burger to end all meals

  but it’s the thought that counts.

  The thought, and also the dead bodies.

  But this war has been going on for a WHILE

  and everyone’s pretty ready for it to stop

  and then some scientists are like “Hey

  if you want, we can just make a really big bomb

  like, REALLY big

  like, big enough to just delete cities

  to the point where war is meaningless

  and we are all left to contemplate our decisions”

  and Germany

  who has already put the pedal to the metal

  as far as morally questionable decisions go

  is like “SHIT YEAH, HUGE BOMBS.”

  So the U.S. figures out that Germany is doing this

  and they’re like “Wow

  Germany is basically a big bag of psychos

  if they get this bomb

  and no one else has it

  they will nuke the entire goddamn world

  they might even nuke the moon

  there’s no telling with those guys.

  Should we stop them?

  . . . Nah

  let’s just make our own.”

  So they make a super secret laboratory

  out in a part of New Mexico no one cares about

  and they buy a bunch of uranium from Britain

  and they get

  to

  work.

  Some of the companies that are supplying them

  like DuPont and Standard Oil

  and everybody else that liberals hate

  are being investigated at this time

  for antitrust violations

  but NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO INVESTIGATE

  WE HAVE TO BUILD A SUPERWEAPON.

  So all those antitrust suits get suspended

  and these megacorps just get to keep on monetizin’

  all so we can build a mass-murder tool more quickly

  which is right up there

  with making deals with the actual Devil

  in terms of major red flags about your goals.

  Anyway there are all these scientists

  stuck way out in the New Mexico desert

  under the management of a guy named Oppenheimer

  and everybody’s sort of like “Uhh

  are we sure we’re doing the right thing?

  Eh, whatever.”

  And then they invent this bomb

  and they set it off

  even though they think it MIGHT end the world

  and the explosion

  is

  AWESOME.

  Now, this part is critical

  this explosion

  is probably the most important moment

  in modern mythology

  because when Doc Opp sees that explosion

  devouring the New Mexican dawn

  he looks deep inside himself and he says

  “I have become death, destroyer of worlds.”

  That’s a quote from the Bhagavad Gita, fyi

  and the dude who originally says it is Shiva

  ACTUAL GOD OF DEATH.

  What I am saying, guys

  is that when that bomb exploded in Los Alamos

  that was the moment the old gods died

  and the new gods were born.

  From that point to today, we’ve been on our own.

  All that wild shit God did in the Old Testament?

  That’s us now

  and we are EXACTLY AS IMMATURE as that guy

  because check it out:

  So the bomb is ready now

  and the scientists go to the president like “’Sup”

  and President Truman

  (who just became president

  because FDR died from solving too many problems)

  is like “Uhh . . . uhh . . .

  fuck it, we’re bombing Japan.”

  So two Japanese cities

  just crawling with civilians

  suddenly get vaporized

  by the domesticated finger of god

  and the whole world is like “Oh fuuuuuuuuuuck”

  and suddenly World War Two is over

  and Japan makes a ton of really weird movies

  in an attempt to get over the whole thing.

  Meanwhile, Russia is pissed

  because Stalin is not about to let America

  have a monopoly on being God

  so Russia makes some nukes

  and America makes some more nukes

  and Britain makes some nukes

  and Russia makes some more nukes

  and America makes EVEN MORE NUKES

  until finally everyone is like “Okay, okay.

  We can all be God, it’s cool.

  But we have to promise

  never to use these nukes on each other

  because if we do

  we will all stop being God really fast.

  Also let’s keep anyone else from getting these

  because they’re probably not as wise as us.”

  And so, once again

  the gods withdrew their powers to their hidden silos

  (although they’re still building more)

  and the world entered an era of (relative) peace

  and now anytime anyone tries to challenge the gods

  by making their own nukes, Prometheus-style

  the U.S. totally FREAKS OUT

  and buries those guys under troops and bombs

  but not nuclear bombs

  so it’s okay.

  The moral of the story

  is never bring a knife to a gunfight

  bring the goddamn apocalypse.

  OF ALL THE PLACES ALIENS COULD HAVE VISITED, THEY CHOSE ROSWELL

  Here’s what the government wants you to believe:

  Back in Cold War times

  when the U.S. is super nervous about Russian nukes

  they come up with a brilliant strategy:

  duct tape some microphones to some balloons

  put the balloons way up in the sky

  and hope that Russia is like “Hey, balloon!

  Look over here!

  See all these shockwaves?

  That’s all our nukes!

  Come sabotage them!”

  They spend MILLIONS on this.

  But the problem is that these million-dollar balloons

  are FUCKING BALLOONS

  so one day

  one of these things is flying over New Mexico

  and it pops

  AS BALLOONS DO

  and the shredded wreckage plummets to the ground

  in the middle of some dude’s farm

  so this dude finds all this junk on his farm

/>   like rubber, and balsa wood, and Scotch tape.

  Some of the Scotch tape has flowers on it.

  YUP

  YOUR TAX DOLLARS AT WORK.

  But not only is this balloon thing expensive

  it’s also MADDD SECRET

  so everyone who saw the balloon go down

  is like “WTF is that flying disc?”

  (New Mexicans don’t know what balloons are)

  and all the newspapers start talking about it

  until finally this farmer dude calls the sheriff

  and he’s like “Psst:

  I think I found one of those flying discs?”

  So the sheriff calls the government

  and the government shows up on the farm

  and is like “Oh man, thanks for finding this

  dunno what we would’ve done

  without this huge pile of useless garbage”

  and they cart it away to the air force base

  and presumably throw it in a dumpster, the end.

  PRETTY UNLIKELY, RIGHT?

  Here’s what really happened:

  So back in Cold War times

  the U.S. is super nervous about ALIENS

  because WHEN ARE THEY NOT

  and then some aliens show up

  joyriding their flying saucer across the galaxy

  (also New Mexico)

  and crash right in the middle of some dude’s farm.

  This is why you should never drink and drive.

  This spaceship is NOT made out of trash

  it is made of high-tech material

  that only LOOKS like trash

  also there are dead and dying aliens in the wreckage

  sort of a giveaway

  so the government shows up like “Hey, dude

  let’s just keep this between us, okay?”

  and the farmer dude is like “Yeah, no worries

  I’ll just tell them I found a balloon or something”

  and the government, being the government

  is like “YES, BRILLIANT.”

  So they ship the aliens off to the air force base

  and instead of trying to establish first contact

  they skip straight to cutting them open

  learning nothing useful, as far as I can tell.

  Considering the dumb crap their ship’s made of

  there’s probably not much to learn.

  So the moral of the story

  is that no matter how you slice it

  the government is not super good at its job.

  IF YOU HAVEN’T SLEPT WITH MARILYN MONROE, YOU PROBABLY AREN’T IMPORTANT

  Now, if there’s one thing a pantheon needs

  it’s a goddess of love.

  The Greeks have Aphrodite

  the Norse have Freya

 

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