I’m 99% Sure The Roof of Paul Ryan’s Mouth is Absolutely Smothered In Peanut Butter

As an amateur scientist, I’m inclined to believe a foreign object is keeping Paul Ryan from speaking.

Courtesy Yuri Gripas, Reuters

There’s an Oscar Wilde quote that I’d bet scientists love to reflect on after they make a discovery in the lab.

“Success is a condition,” Wilde once said. “If you have the science, you get the results.”

Now, I’m no scientist, but boy do I have some results. After months of deliberation, anecdotal research and watching just a few minutes of our House Speaker’s videotaped statements, I’ve got a theory: The roof of Paul Ryan’s mouth has almost certainly been drenched in peanut butter.

First, let’s start with the basics. What are the symptoms of a person with peanut butter stuck to the roof of their mouth? The obvious answer: visible discomfort, an elongated neck that supposedly eases air flow through the nostrils and, most importantly, absolute pin-drop silence from the aforementioned person.

Now, they may struggle to speak and even appear as if they’re speaking. In actuality, though, the peanut butter will block their windpipe in a way that prevents anything meaningful from coming out their mouth.

Like, they won’t be able to say a word, no matter how urgent the need for them to speak may be.

Now, here’s a little science lesson from a non-scientist: most creamy peanut butters remain incredibly viscous and sticky for a good while after they’re removed from their jars. This concerns me gravely, in that it suggests the roof of Paul Ryan’s mouth may have even been coated by high-quality Jif™ peanut butter weeks ago.

Of course, my theory would explain why Paul Ryan remained steadfastly silent when President Trump fired the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation in the midst of an investigation against him and disclosed classified information to Russian officials and reportedly asked the aforementioned director to drop the aforementioned investigation against him.

That, framed in a certain light, brings me great comfort.

Now, it’s important to consider that my peanut butter theory would only explain the last several weeks of Ryan’s deafening silence. It’s a bit of a stretch to assume that the roof of Paul Ryan’s mouth was coated in peanut butter on April 4, when Trump accused former President Obama of wiretapping the Oval Office.

Peanut butter likely isn’t to blame for Paul Ryan’s inability to speak on February 24, when The New York Times, BBC, CNN, Politico, The Los Angeles Times and other publications were barred from the White House’s daily press briefing.

And it’s just impractical to think that a single dollop of peanut butter made its way into Paul Ryan’s mouth on January 24th, when Trump claimed that between 3 million and 5 million illegal votes caused him to lose the popular vote.

Unfortunately, my peanut butter theory can only go so far in explaining Paul Ryan’s apparent inability to speak. Do I have a theory on Paul Ryan’s silence over the past several months, though? Sure. There’s a few ideas I’m mulling over. Perhaps he ate a caramel apple or some Laffy Taffy on Halloween. I’m still sussing that one out.

And, I’m just going with my gut here, but Paul Ryan may have also nibbled on some caramel candies while spending Christmas break in what I can only assume is a perfectly ordinary two-story home in the Midwest. I picture a fridge almost entirely covered in oversaturated family photos taken at some gorgeous East Coast beach, and a coffee table adorned with one of the best Nativity scenes west of the Mississippi.

Also, it would explain why Paul Ryan stayed silent after we all saw that video of Donald Trump bragging about grabbing women by their vaginas.

Don’t be discouraged, though. As an amateur scientist, I’m mightily inclined to believe that a foreign object is keeping Paul Ryan from speaking.

Should this theory be proven false, it would be an uphill battle formulating a new one, as Paul Ryan’s boundless silence on nearly all substantive matters would defy logic and reason altogether. ♦

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