Members of the Board

Esteemed members of the board, welcome. I trust you have all enjoyed the blintzes and fresh squeezed juices. I am scheduled to speak for the next twenty to thirty minutes about our financial earnings for the previous fiscal year and strategies for restoring the faith of our shareholders. I will not be speaking to you about that today. Instead I will be describing to you why I have made the choice, as of, oh, two hours ago, to leave this company, my family and the country and begin a new life. You will listen in quiet and respectful attention. Snacks may still be enjoyed freely.

It began when I reached my first position of senior management. After a few weeks of work, I realized that my job essentially consisted of delegating rather than actually working. My subordinates would simply accomplish all my tasks. Hours of sitting alone in my office doing nothing left me feeling empty. Not knowing what it was I wanted or needed, I filled the void of activity with petty theft. A stapler here, a pack of instant coffee there. After two months my desk was filled with more toner than I could ever dream of. Our office supply budget skyrocketed, yet I continued through pure compulsion.

At first I thought my family was to blame, and I still don’t think I was too far off on that one. The emptiness in my career was present in my relationships with my children. Daniel, my oldest, was sent to boarding school after being caught using drugs. Seeing how effective this punishment was, at least for me, I became a little over-zealous and used it on my other children. I sent Warren to St. Francis Reformatory after he scratched the side of my car with his bike. Jonathon was shipped away to a catholic school in England whose name I do not remember because he forgot to walk the dog. I registered Harold for the Marine Corps after he left the back door open. I had to forge a birth certificate for that, seeing as he was fifteen at the time. But all of this was only a temporary fix.

Meanwhile, back at the office I began keeping alcohol in my desk and forcing employees to do my stealing for me. Some of you in this room assisted me, and I not apologize for making you do so, as I believe it built character. I also developed an addiction to internet pornography.

As the emptiness consumed me more and more, my marriage suffered. Jeanine and I rarely spoke to one another, and on at least several occasions when we did I failed to recognize her. When we would make love it would be laborious, violent and full of verbal abuse. We each began using sex as a form of revenge on one another. Both of us pursued extramarital affairs but simply ended up sleeping with each other, convinced that we were in fact sleeping with another person.

My life was hollow and unsatisfying. I began more actively questioning my purpose on this earth, often under the influence of hallucinogens. I stole more and more, larger items now. I would spend weeks under my desk, thinking it had been a few hours. My wife would call, complaining about children of ours whose names I did not recognize. I became a vegan.

Gentlemen, it was at this time that I had my epiphany. One day, or possibly night, I was locked in my office in the throes of a mescaline binge switching my attention between two televisions that I had stolen the week before. On one of them I watched Eastern European veterinary porn, on the other, Nick at Nite. Suddenly, during a commercial break, an advertisement came on for Sandals resorts in Jamaica. Simultaneously, the Hungarian pornographic actress Piroska Varga entered a scene. The sunny beaches of Jamaica, the leather bodice of Ms. Varga and the heavy dosage of mescaline combined in a glorious flash of realization. It all made sense. My life had been empty because, although I had been giving into many of my base desires, I had not combined my most simple and socially acceptable desires with my most grotesque and depraved. Gentlemen, that is when I decided to go to Sandals Jamaica with Piroska Varga and any animals she may wish to accompany us.

I feel better now than I ever have. Gentleman, I searched for years for meaning and finally found it in pure, unadulterated hedonism. Now my life has purpose.

I have left no forwarding address. Once I finish this sentence, I will walk out of this room, meet my driver and Ms. Varga and head straight for the airport, never to return, and every single one of you will be dead to me.

What I'm Thinking While Watching British Period Dramas

ENGLISH DRAWING ROOM
--Oh Sarah, I struggle with my feelings. Reginald infuriates me with his callous rudeness, his cold demeanor and his upbringing, yet the memory of our shared line-dancing experience at the Earl's ball leaves me breathless whene'er I recall it!
--Emma, do not say such things! You are betrothed to Lord Fauntberry! His affection for you is as great as his facial hair!
--I do know this to be the truth, Sarah, yet my emotions lead me elsewhere. As frustrating as Reginald can be, my heart leads me to him again and again.
--And not to Lord Fauntberry?!
--Indeed not! Oh Sarah, whatever shall I do?

SMASH CUT TO SIERRA LEONE
--I have no food for today, just as yesterday.
--My only food source may very well become the corpse of my first-born. But first I must journey twenty miles to water.
--I would accompany you, but I doubt I would survive the journey due to my severe dysentery.
--What are the British doing about our living conditions?
--They are making us work more.
--I am dead.

CUT BACK TO ENGLISH DRAWING ROOM
--Oh Sarah, in my foolish, romantic haze I have set the forks on the right side of the place settings!
--Our existence is tortured and profound!

Deathbed

FATHER: Children, I feel death drawing ever nearer.
DAUGHTER: What can we do, Dad?
FATHER: Come closer to me. Let me tell you of my life's proudest moment.
SON: You mean the publication of your novel?
FATHER: No.
DAUGHTER: The birth of us?
FATHER: No.
SON: What then?
FATHER: This one time...at a party...in college...a young woman walked in wearing a vest...
SON: Go on, Dad.
FATHER: She looked around the room...confused...as if searching for something. And she asked..."Has anyone seen my vest?"....and in front of everyone...I totally yelled out..."Did you check your torso?"
DAUGHTER: Wh--what? That's it?
FATHER: Everyone totally lost it. The sheer timing of the delivery...it was unbelievable.
SON: That's all you had to tell us?
FATHER: I'm slipping away. My will is there on the table.
SON: Dad, there's nothing in here about either of us. Where's our inheritance?
FATHER: Check....your....torsos!