In hitting the campaign trail, I learned three things: 1. People love novelty buttons, especially if they feature my chubby face. 2. People love golf pencils, especially if they have my name on them. 3. People love me. Conscience speaking: Daniel, you are being an idiot; don’t get a big head about this whole presidency thing. Good point Jiminy, I shouldn’t get cocky. While I promise not to get too arrogant, I do have a few reasonable requests now that I’m president. Therefore, since I cannot write in complete sentences and paragraphs, here are my demands in bullet form: • Everyone has to call me The Ill ‘Dente- I need a nickname and this is it. Just “The ‘Dente” is acceptable, but “The Ill ‘Dente” is greatly preferred. If you are an absolute traditionalist, El Presidente will suffice. • Everyone associated with me will be referred to as, “The _____ of The Ill ‘Dente.”- Example: my brother will be here next year; he will be known as “The Brother of The Ill ‘Dente,” my math teacher will be known as, “The Math Teachers of The Ill ‘Dente,” etc. • The words under my name in this features article will read, “Features The Ill ‘Dente,” and not, “Features My Little Pony.” Look up now to see my first demand in action (hopefully). [Editor’s Note: No such luck, big boy.] • A frikkin’ huge world series/super bowl style ring- It will be inscribed, “The Ill ‘Dente.” • Kiss my huge ring (Godfather style) – Don’t be embarrassed about this one, it’s no big deal; everybody has to do it, even The One that Preceded The Ill ‘Dente (Allegra). Teachers are exempt from this practice; they may just kiss my hand. • A new can of shaving cream. I don’t really need one, it’s just that the can I’ve had since freshman year, while still mostly full, is starting to get rusty. • The friendship of the famous Golden Chopstick delivery man- I couldn’t order during Passover or over spring break and I feel like we’ve grown apart. During Winter Term, we were great buddies, taking pictures, wearing buttons, giving thumbs up signs to onlookers, but now, we hardly even speak. When I told him of my election victory he just said, “Next time,” waved goodbye, and ran away. No Chinese bear hug, no Chinese man love. Was it something I said? • A summer job/internship- seriously, this one isn’t a joke, I need something to do this summer and according to The Mother and Father of The Ill ‘Dente, playing 25 seasons of Madden 98 is not a constructive use of my time. I’ll work for food (ext. 6446, I’m serious, somebody please call me). • Some artwork enshrining my greatness- clearly this worked out well for fellow leader Saddam in Iraq. Saddam knew how to endear himself to his people through public art. I’m not asking for anything flashy, just a bust in each building, a humongous mural or two, and a statue larger than the one that so tastefully commemorates the unification of Phillips and Abbott Academies. • A bidet (The American Heritage Dictionary defines bidet as, “A fixture similar in design to a toilet that is straddled for bathing the genitals and the posterior parts.”) – they’re renovating Fuess (you know how to say it), and we’re getting urinals, so why not a bidet or two? • Girls to be nicer in rejecting me- next time, lets just keep it between you and me, there is no need to bring your giggling friends into what could’ve been a beautiful relationship. This one isn’t a joke, please, have some humanity ladies, let me at least keep that last shred of dignity. • A posse- my current friends are okay, but they hardly ever remember to kiss the huge ring and they never call themselves Friends of The Ill ‘Dente. Their lack of adherence to my commands, coupled with the fact that they are all Lowers, means they have to go. I need some cool people who will abandon me the second something goes wrong. • A manservant- it would be nice to have somebody to turn down my bedding, wake me up in the morning, dress me, etc. He could live in my closet. • A horse- elegant yet sensible transportation. Totally circumvents any rules about having a car on campus. Also needed: a guy to pick up the horse’s poop. All reasonable requests if I do say so myself. Now you just need to get working on this stuff because The Ill ‘Dente is watching you. Conscience speaking (again): Daniel, not only are you a conceited jerk, but your conclusion was pathetic. Apologize to the people nice enough to read that whole dumb list. I’m sorry (sheepishly).