Michael was multitasking in a toilet. He was evacuating his bowels and checking his phone for news, all at the same time, when an interesting headline caught his attention: "Environmental cost of luxury toilet paper". The article was written by the Guardian. It was a timely topic for a person in his situation.
Michael clicked on the link and read the first sentence: "An average American uses three and half times more toilet paper than the average European". It was a hell of a statement and made Michael think how it was possible that the average Yank was three and half times more full of shit than people around him. As far as Michael could tell people around him were full of shit to the point of overflowing. To be three and half times more full of shit than them was not a trivial matter. "It is virtually impossible to compete with the Americans", he concluded with dismay. "They are just better at everything!" Then another thought sprung to his mind: "If the Americans are so full of shit then ... America must be too!" Michael's jaw hit the floor. It was a blasphemy of the highest order, but the evidence was clear and the source reliable. "If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck it may be a duck" he reminded himself objectively and immediately realized that there was no smoke without fire.
The more he dwelled on it the more obvious it was that he discovered something of extraordinary importance. "I think I just stopped the Sun and moved the Earth", he determined and his eyes got lit up with a spark of his own brilliance. It did not last long. The Domino effect of unintended consequences slowly unraveled in front of him like a bad dream.
Michael believed in spreading democracy, human rights, and freedom of speech. Those three pillars of Western civilization guaranteed people the rights to say whatever they wanted to say for as long as they had nothing to say. It was more than most people could have wished for. Without those three there was simply nothing else to believe in and now thanks to America's unsustainable usage of toilet paper and Michael's own critical assessment of independent scientific data, those values were nothing but a pile of crap. Michael's lower lip started shaking from a growing sense of guilt. "I am destroyer of worlds" he whispered terrified, "I am Oppenheimer!" He scratched his forehead unsure what to do next.
If America was full of shit, so was "American Sniper". If "American Sniper" was full of shit then there were no more heroes out there to defend him from the bad guys wearing long, black, Nazi leather coats. How could he trust Hollywood after that again? Big names he grew up to admire, names which had never let him down had to be evaluated from the very beginning simply because of their nationality. It was ethnic cleansing in broad daylight.
Batman - not to be trusted, Wolverine - not to be trusted, Superman – obviously not to be trusted! "How about Tom Cruise?" Michael asked himself, "You not gonna trust Tom Cruise? Where is this gonna take you? If Tom is out so must be Robert de Niro!" Michael shook his head, but there was nothing he could do for them both. Tom was simply not to be trusted. Bob's latest voyage into comedy sealed his faith too. The world needed heroes, real greatness, something to aspire to in times of need, and Michael by the process of elimination was left with only two names. The first one was Cristiano Ronaldo. The fact he was not even American counted against America more than the Vietnam and Iraq wars combined together. If he was American, Michael could find some sort of excuse for America, a feather in its cap, but the truth was, America, with all its resources and all its pompous rhetoric simply did not manage to produce the greatest athlete of all time. America did not even know football was a beautiful game. It fell miserably where it counted most and there was just one scientific explanation for it: America, the force for good, the home of the brave, was full of shit! That left Michael with the last man standing: Santa Claus, by all accounts a controversial figure with a fake beard and no passport, moving in between countries like boarders' controls were science fiction themes. Santa's proclivity to avoid detection was impressive enough to salvage a day and Michael sighed with relief, glad he was unable to find something on a poor, old man when an unexpected suspicion entered his mind: "Santa was moving in between countries without a passport!" Michael calmly digested this simple piece of evidence and then suddenly it struck him: "He must be an agent! A CIA asset!"
