To the employees of Land Rover,
We have exciting new developments on the horizon for our 2020/2021 lineup of cars and SUVs. It’s an exciting time in the world of motor vehicles, and for Land Rover, there’s no exception. Starting in the fall of 2020, we will pivot away from our traditional commitment to douchebags and soccer moms and begin targeting likable consumers.
Since our inception in the remarkable year of 1978, Land Rover has been driven by the idea that our customers need to be rich dickheads, or dickheads who pretend they’re rich just so the rich dickheads will…
After receiving numerous strongly worded-phone calls, emails, and two subpoenas for photos of our shirtless employees lifting boxes, we feel it important to inform all of our past and future clients that our company logo grossly and inaccurately touts the size of our employees’ muscles.
Our movers are able-bodied individuals capable of tackling whatever our customers need. Sure, some of them possess more visual proof than others, but even those who require the most back support can handle anything that comes their way. …
Dear Make-A-Wish Foundation,
My name is Colton Brumlee. I am twelve years old, and I unfortunately have Childhood Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. But with your help, you can make my battle with this dark disease a little brighter by granting my wish of fighting Boston Bruins defenseman Zdeno Chara at center ice.
I am a huge Bruins fan, and I go to games all the time with my dad. His friend Kurt from work is a season ticket holder, so he sometimes gets us tickets. I love watching big hits, which is why my favorite player on the Bruins is Chara.
Going To Hell was originally printed in Save As — a multimedia magazine created to build and promote artistic community and expression. It’s edited by Evan Dickerson and Chris Kalil.
GOD: Lucifer! What’s up, dude?
LUCIFER: Hey, God. I’m, uh, doing all right.
GOD: You look a little less than perfectly beautiful.
LUCIFER: To be quite honest, God, I’m not happy here anymore.
GOD: Hmm… I know it’s not the Sabbath…
(God pulls out a cask of water.)
LUCIFER: No. No thank you. Look, I’m submitting my 40 days notice.
GOD: Psh. Naahh.
LUCIFER: I am.
GOD: I mean, I’m…
Kevin was asleep.
A stark white prism of vanity light silhouetted the man. He sat upright, draped neck to ankles in a black cover-up. Kevin looked dead.
I approached from behind slowly, cautiously, so as not to awaken the sleeping giant of comedy from his slumber. First, and without warning, as though commanded by the magnetism of his celebrated skull, my index and middle fingers on my right and left hands extended like an accordion fan, followed by my elbows and my shoulders.
A moment before, sometime between 5:30 and 6:00 in the morning, I sat at the end of…
I’m a comedy writer in LA. I’ve written for MAD Magazine, Slackjaw, Points in Case, Robot Butt, and had work praised in Vulture.