No, we’re not here to discuss Rod “Son of old painty can Ned” Flanders, but rather this inanimate carbon rod. Perhaps our greatest ally, second only to our good friend zinc.
Imagine you’re Rod here, minding your own business, being honored with an employee of the month award, a long overdue and prestigious honor, when you’re witness to the unhinged antics of a maniacal, balding, donut devouring troglodyte from sector 7-G, who feels this award should have been his.
You’re a key component in keeping the nuclear plant running smoothly, while old Homer J., is calling all over trying to find someone who can hook him up with some Tang. Next thing you know, you’re just kicking it on the space shuttle for NASA, delivering children’s letters to God, when that gelatinous gastropod has followed you onto the shuttle, trying to show you up as employee of the month at the plant as some weak form of validation in his crayon penetrated brain. Instead, easily distracted (as he’s wont to be), Homer spends the entire trip stuffing his face with potato chips, singing the praises of Golden Grahams (he’s got you there), before ultimately unleashing the awesome power of the ant overlords on an unsuspecting Earth.
Or at least, potentially unleashing the colonies wrath. Thankfully, in his potato based snack food rage, he tries to use you against your will to bash in the head of one of the co-pilots. But, you’re too smart for Homer (hell, just about everyone is), and you jam yourself between the door and the shuttle; which his ample backside had unintentionally fustigated. Triumphant with bringing the crew home safely, you’re showered with well deserved accolades. The cover of Time, a ticker tape parade. You’re one cool dude, Rod.
You earned that employee of the month distinction, and you’ve earned the right to be known forevermore as a hero, a patriot, and a champion. Bask in the warm glowing, warming glow of the adulation of your adoring public. Soak in the cheers, the photo ops and the praise of a job well done. The nuclear plant wouldn’t be the same without you, and NASA wouldn’t be the same either had it not been for your fearless contributions.
As for that Homer fella? He’ll be fine, because he’ll eventually find some Tang, get distracted by the new season of television shows, and if his mind does happen to wander back to this moment of your ultimate victory, he can always turn to his old friend alcohol. The cause of and solution to, all of life’s problems.
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