by David Neilsen

Kings are cool.

They get to rule the countryside with an iron fist, deflower virgins and have annoying people beheaded. One look at the direction the world is taking and it's easy to see that kings are going to be in hot demand any day now.

So I humbly submit myself for the job of King. Basically, I'm the best candidate around, and it would behoove everyone to nominate me King right now before I change my mind and set my sights on something equally glamorous like whale-hunter or assassin.

Here are some other reasons why I should be King:

My superior skill at Wiffle-Golf

My lactose-intolerance means I won't kowtow to the high-pressure dairy lobby

My love of pets

My majestic features can finally be put to good use

I know all the words to "The Humpty Dance"

I liked "Schindler's List" and "Ghandi"

"Foreign policy, schmoreign policy, just nuke the bastards."

I floss weekly

I've never been in a rock band

My charismatic nick-name: "Hunky"

My intimate knowledge of peaches

I called dibs