Hey Troy....I know you're in retirement, but this could be your chance to restore your career! We need the Perry Mason, the F. Lee Bailey, the Hawkeye Pierce, the.....well you get the idea.
Come on back and defend us against the tyranny of the oppressor! The sad pleasure that comes from too much power! The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat! For the little guy in all of us who wants to shed those binds that tie! That holds us within that glass ceiling! That broken escalator! That invisible box! That ugly mud fence!
Come save churak and me, but don't do it for me! Consider poor, poor, sad, hopelessly helpless, lifeless, discombobulated churak! No where to go. No one to talk to. An accountant without a soapbox is just ..............a scrivener.
Try to imagine him up there in the frozen tundra, no one within kilograms or litres of him! All alone. These thoughts of his, backing up in his head, clogging his little decipherinator. Coming up with these little Ted Kluzewski thoughts with no way to express them will just lead to ........well, it's just too horrific to even consider.
Me, I'll be alright. As you know in D/FW we have a topless club on every street corner and for $20, they will let you ramble on incessantly............well, at least until the song is over.
So, to sum this up......if you have a heart, or a reasonable fascimile thereof, come on our behalf and take on the large corporation known as Matt, Inc. After bringing down Enron, this should be mere childsplay for someone of your ilk.
In the name of Earl Campbell, Bum Phillips, and Dickie Thon......defend us well. Our internet lives are in your hands.
