Going mad with power

Before I address the issues regarding this topic, I feel it necessary to give a little background about myself. I’m a country boy who’s trying to make it in the big city. Back home I was a little fish in a big pond, now I’m in the ocean and, guess what, I don’t know how to swim. So, for those of you who don’t know me, leave. Now. If you do know me that means you don’t like me which means you are a hater. And do you know what we do to haters here at The Muhlenberg Weekly? Nothing, not yet. But I’ve just gone from being a contributing writer to the section editor for Op/Ed, and I’m planning on going mad with power. I haven’t quite gone mad with power just yet, but if things go my way, all this power will go straight to my head.

Now, you must be thinking “Will, I love your work and congratulations on the new position, but if you are already in the position why not just go mad with power now? Why wait?” First off, thank you for your congratulations, that’s kind of you. And to answer your question, I’ve already taken a sip from the goblet that will eventually make me drunk with power. This paper never had columns before, but I’ve abused a little bit of power and now there are two columns. Count them, two. Another reason I am waiting is because I’m still not sure what power I have. I know I can create columns, and I’ve already abused that, but I’m not sure what other responsibilities I have. So, I’m waiting a little bit, just until I actually know what I’m doing and how I can take advantage of it.

But, dear reader, if I may be honest with you, the real reason I’m waiting to go mad with power is because I’m scared. That’s right, a jock like me is scared. Laugh at Mr. Muscles, aka me, if you want but it’s the truth. I’m scared that I might remember some of the little people, or worse yet that I might remember how they helped me to get to where I am today. Ever since I was a boy frolicking through the one corn field behind my house I’ve dreamed of ruling with an iron fist. But now as I am given the opportunity of a lifetime, the chance to begin my tyrannical reign over the entire opinion and editorial section of a small liberal arts college newspaper, I’m scared I don’t have it in me. What if I accidentally don’t scream at Janet for doing nothing wrong? Or if I forget to use my power to force Ken give me a massage? What if I never bribe the editor in chief to keep my arrests off the books? I don’t know that I would be able to live with myself, much less forgive myself.

But, it’s like I always say, the word “impossible” is just “I’m possible” hiding in negativity. And you know what, I am possible! If I don’t abuse my power, no one will. So, if you need me, I’m going to show someone my tiny, spindly, little knees, because I’m the section editor of Op/Ed at The Weekly darn it and no one can stop me. If you want to thank me for this inspiring tale, hit me up on facebook. If you don’t, I don’t care because to me everyone is my employee and I cannot be touched, for as of right now, I’ve officially gone mad with power.

 

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