Myron Moron: the foremost black matador since Rabbi Moshe Bushwhack

Moron was greatness in tight pants: an efficient poet and a lightening-quick artists’ model and store window mannequin.

The son of a matador’s mother-in-law, Moron had Harvard Doctorates in Mopping and Business Menstruation. He also plagiarized theses on esoteric themes like Coke Bubble Recycling and all by himself wrote a stuff on grave-digging that’s truly ground-breaking.

Moreover, he was a leader in the science of body-building, perfecting 30 ways to strengthen eyelids for accurate and powerful blinking. He also developed a side-splitting leg amputation-technique.

And there’s more! Moron could calculate the sum of 4 and 6 to within 30%—and repeat the operation up to 3 times with quite similar results!

Moron could have been outstanding in any field he set his foot to. Instead of diversifying, however, he chose to concentrate his time and talent on just field. He chose his specialty just 10 minutes after he was conceived. His choice? Bullfighting!

Moron towers below and beside all other matadors, achieving unparalleled fame in his local phone booth. But fame never went to his head, or even to his neck: While he was alive, he gave out autographs generously—always at affordable prices with easy-payment installment plans. His name and fame will live eternally, or until you finish reading his story—whichever comes first.

In the arena, he had no match, especially in writhing and bleeding. Even against the fiercest bulls, he was completely fearless. He rarely if ever defended himself with his RPG loaded with his mother’s biscuits.

As he fought, you could see his broad smile from any angle—even from the back—since it spread completely around his head. When he kissed an adoring fan, his lips would engulf her entire head, sometimes even extending down to personal areas well below her navel.

Moron charmed the downtrodden, stupid and psychopathic of every social class; it was said that he treated even king and beggars exactly the same—like excrement, which he dearly loved. Still, he could appear arrogant to those who met him casually—unless they were total nitwits.

So. Here we have a one-of-a-kind figure, which many believe was one more than enough.

After 13 years in the ring, using his private SWAT team to defend himself barely 29 million times, his luck ran out: in his last fight, Moron was mortally bored to death; he began to see grave-digging from a very different perspective.

Moments before he died, Moron uttered the 7 key words that would live in our memories to this very day—if anyone had listened, but nobody heard a word; not even a preposition.

Moron’s contributions to humanity make him one of the world’s greatest people—or maybe even both of them! He defended the Really Great Causes—like the right to die broke, to lie in bed and politics—and others too few to mention.

His inspirational tombstone reads, “Win or lose, I got bullshit on my shoes.” These words make every one of us pause, bow down a moment, and scrape.