It may appear that the situation in Syria has calmed down for the moment, but the main issue still remains: President Bashar al-Assad needs to go. In this no-win situation, I’ve put forth the one solution to the problem. We need to send in the Guy Who Won’t Shut Up.
You know the Guy Who Won’t Shut Up. You may work with him, or perhaps he’s a neighbor, or even a relative. He’s the guy (could be a girl too) who talks, and talks, and talks some more.
I met my Guy Who Won’t Shut Up when I used to work for this big company. He would park himself at my cubicle and babble on.
No matter how disinterested I appear, he babbles forth. I’ll pick up a book, and he keeps talking. I turn around and start working on my computer, and he keeps talking. I’ll jump off a forty-story building, and he keeps talking.
That last method of escape may sound like an exaggeration, but I have considered it. Killing the Guy Who Won’t Shut Up won’t work, because he could come back as a ghost, plop down in your kitchen, and run his gums until the end of eternity.
When this whole thing with Assad reached a fever-pitch, I put one idiot and one homicidal dictator together and came up with a hell of an epiphany.
Can We Borrow the Iron Man Suit?
I dialed up a few high-ranking friends in the Pentagon, and gave them the spiel. Instead of sending Tomahawk missiles into Syria, let’s send the Guy Who Won’t Shut Up. After two days, Assad will jump off a forty-story building and we’ll be all done with this mess.
Initially, the Pentagon higher-ups were skeptical. Wouldn’t they slit his throat when he stepped onto Syrian soil? How would he get into Assad’s HQ?
These were valid points, so I called Robert Downey Jr. and asked if we could borrow his Iron Man suit. Clad in the defensive armor, he would be impervious to Assad’s arsenal. Robert is a true patriot, and he shipped me the iron-wear.
I used to work with the Guy Who Won’t Shut Up at a big insurance company. I found him standing in a cubicle, talking non-stop. He was oblivious to the fact that the guy on the receiving end of the babble-thon had hung himself and was dangling from a rafter. This was a good sign.
“Hey, this guy wants to talk to you,” I said, holding up a picture of Assad like you’d hold an escaped con’s sock to a bloodhound.
He was all for it, so I put the suit on The Guy Who Won’t Shut Up, and flew him to Syria. Clad in the Iron Man suit, he walked through Damascus, talking everyone’s ear off until they pointed him in the direction of Assad’s stronghold.
Security guards took a few shots at the Iron Man suit, but the bullets bounced right off. Then The Guy Who Won’t Shut Up started talking. Two hours later, they waved him on, happy to be rid of him. Eventually, he made it to Assad’s inner sanctum, and started to talk.
We learned that within a day, Assad committed suicide. He used chemical weapons on himself, apparently a welcome alternative to the Guy Who Won’t Shut Up.
The last I heard, the Guy Who Won’t Shut Up is walking home in the Iron Man suit, sharing his story in its entirety with anyone within earshot. He should reach the states in about four months. Let’s enjoy the peace and quiet until he does.