So, if longtime readers remember a now-invisible article from years ago that could be described as "lightheartedly treasonous," this is, for the first time ever, the true story of why that article no longer exists and why I didn't include guides on beating up living presidents in my new book.
That was the first thing I saw when I booted up my computer one morning. The first thing I heard was a knock on my office door. The second thing I saw was the bottom of my desk, as I'd ducked underneath it to hide like a man. I guess I had a hunch it was only a matter of time before the Secret Service investigated me for my stupid articles and various violence-against-presidents-related research. I just always assumed they'd drag their feet and wouldn't track me down until jet packs were a thing. I keep a lot of eggs in the jet pack basket. The knocking continued.
"No thank you," I shouted at the door. It was early. The part of my brain that rules at lying was still asleep.
"Dan, it's Jack. Do you have a second?"
"Only if it's about a really cool joke you played on me involving a fake email from HR. Or I mean, wait, shit, no, I'm not here. Daniel is dead. I've never even heard of presidents."
I then tried to convince him that I was actually Jack O'Brien, and he was really Dan O'Brien.