CAUTION: The following was written in an alien dialect that very few people can understand. If you understand the words coming out of this man’s mouth please contact us immediately.
Oh bloody hell, dya hear that arse Mr. Moneybags? Sounds grotty a bit, ah? Well, well, he’s quite a berk, but one thing I do have to give to him, when it comes to managing my quid, he puts the bollocks aside and does what he knows best – count dosh.
Pleasure to meet you chaps. You may be seated. Quite ironic that I’m about to welcome you to your own mind, but I guess that’s the way it goes over here in this land they call North America. That capitalistic git thinks he owns the world (Mr. Moneybags), well I’m about to disappoint him, for my name is The Big Cheese (a.k.a. the most important person), that’s right. Wowo, kidos, keep me on topic here, alright? I can talk about that manky Moneybag forever, so just wave your hand or throw a pencil at me, if you poor kids have one of course, and I’ll be right back on track.
Now you’re going to ask me where’d I come from and what degrees I’ve earned to be qualified to teach you? That should not be a concern of yours, you chimney-pots. I have three degrees from some of the most prestigious educational establishments in the world: a Bachelors degree in Can-Opening-While-Operating-Nuclear-Machinery, a Masters in Ice Cream Production and a PhD. earned in dismantling school buses. All qualify me as a master of my art (teaching) and I will use everything I have learned from these degrees to fill that empty skull of yours with useful information – such as dismantling school buses.
I precisely dedicated this section to the unscrewing and untangling of the grey mass inside your skull, I commonly refer to it as your brain. Don’t you think I’m doing this because I have nothing better to do with my time; I have Mr. Moneybags to chinwag with and fight him in order to save the world from his greedy hands that gobble up every penny he lays his beady lil’ eyes on. So be thankful fella’s, you are a part of the plan. I’ll have to apply all my nuclear machinery knowledge to that head of yours. If you didn’t know, the structure is pretty similar, so don’t you worry chaps.
And as a result…if you try real hard and help me push my broken lorry out of the car park, you will grow to be a more decent human being than that smeghead, Mr. Moneybags! In fact, you even might grow a bit nicer than him and not turn into such a clanger! Though here comes the balls-up, the naked truth, I call it “the knickers” (because they’re as thrilling and exciting and hard to get!). I can teach you all the tricks and fiddles you’ll need to survive in this desecrated world. I will pass on all the knowledge and wisdom that Oxford and Yale taught me from those three degrees, but to get at least a fraction of the chuffy, doshy piles of money that melt my ice lolly with the flash lightning speed Mr. Moneybags manages to grow, becoming a Gutman is the answer.
My sole purpose of educating you is to die happy and be able to openly say when I retire that I tried to fix the brains of this idle, lazy and passionless generation of twats. I’ll show you how to outwit those PhD. degree graduates with $1.50 in late fees from the library and without all the unnecessary bumph and rubbish that comes with it. That is all. Now go put them gutties on and let’s play some footie and dream that you will be as jammy as myself, The Big Cheese.