A Campaign Manifesto From A Mentally Unstable Guild Candidate

Hello Students, my name is William and I'm just like you. Except richer, better looking and rather better with the ladies, what with my medically mystifying pheromones. [Ed: That's probably the worst opening statement I've ever seen, I may not have ever done this before but I'm pretty sure you're not winning many voters this way.] But I'm not here to talk about me, well I am, but I'm here to talk about all the ways I can help you out as a Guild Candidate. You may not have seen my posters, flyers or screaming minions around campus or even know that there are Elections going on. But that's because I don't have any. And because you're a drooling fucktard that's one more unprovoked attack away from being put down. [Ed: I didn't think it was possible, but this is actually worse. Is this really what you want to say? That the voter is a mindless animal constantly leaking bodily fluids? How badly are you trying to fail at this?] You see the Guild only offers you £500 (maybe? It's not like I, you know, checked) to cover the costs of printing and MacGuyvering douchey costumes and you'd be surprised how little bourbon and bumper value pack Vicodin you can get for half a ton. Barely a weekend's worth. Man is the economy ever fucked. Not even buying in bulk gets you value for money.

But that leads me neatly to my first pledge as candidate for whatever position needs filling, (let's say all of them). [Ed: If you swallow a jigsaw puzzle later and then promptly died, the coroner's report on your stomach contents would have a better structure than this article. Don't try and do that though, swallow a whole jigsaw, I mean.] Real funny Ed, here I am trying to help out the average student and you're making jokes at my expense.You know what? You can fuck right off. [Ed: I retract my previous statement, please, please try and swallow a 500-piece puzzle. The coroner's report would then also be more entertaining than this article.] Alright I'm just going to ignore you. Here I go. Just going at my own pace here. Not paying you any attention. You lonely yet, Ed?

A vote for William is a vote for Steak & Hookers Tuesday, a hallowed institution and national holiday that's criminally overlooked not just by the University, but seemingly everyone outside my bedsit in [Ed: look man I'm not sure you want to be revealing that kind of personal information. Especially because the cops would know where to come looking for your body. And neither of us want that.] S&HT will bring much needed publicity and revenue to the Guild in these financially troubling times, mostly because it's weekly but also because my understanding of micro-economics doesn't stretch further than: More Vicodin for Less Money, Equals Good.

Now I don't want to fan the flames of hatred or anything, I don't even want slander my totally "reputable" opponents, but seriously, most of them weren't hugged enough as children.

And some too much

Sure they're just using the elections as an opportunity to prove how terribly popular they are and how much they care about the University (I BOUGHT THE SWEATSHIRT! LOOK AT MY DEDICATION!) but is this really a reason to hate them? Yes. Yes it is. And here's another. Unlike those other oxygen thieves I haven't made a thinly-veiled reference to some pop culture buzzword out of my name. I've simply opted for the far less humour-murdering epithet: William 'Couldn't Think Of Anything Funny Here' Franklin. Now, some might say (I'm looking at you, Ed) that by making a reference to the prevalence of poor satirical references in my comedic area of choice I am parodying an already poor parody and therefore making an even douchier joke myself. Possibly measuring anywhere as low as a 4.8 on the Cheezburger Scale of MegaLols. To which I would say, fuck you. Fuck you all the way to the bank.

Where you can open up a FUCK YOU SIDEWAYS account with excellent rates of EAT A DICK interest.

Why vote anyone else for anything? Most of my rivals are terrorists trying to facilitate the spread of super-syphilis anyway, and when you write puns as piss-poor as they do, each flyer you print them on should come with an apology from the doctor that failed to surgically reattach your dick. I've seen better gags in The Pianist than on campus during elections. [Ed: Are you going to say anything here that isn't deeply offensive, generalised libel?] Hmmm, I'm still feeling a little on edge, clearly the last of the Vicodin still hasn't kicked in. Maybe I shouldn't have taken all that coke beforehand. [Ed: Wonderful. This can only get better.]

Powdered Self-Esteem

I don't want to have to resort to violence to get your vote. But I will. I'm sure I don't need to detail all the terrible dick-kicking punishments I'd exact but suffice to say, those witnesses will never be done with therapy. Damn that is good blow. You know what? I changed my mind. I'm pretty sure all I want now is to describe in graphic, pant-shitting detail what I'm about to do to your spine. I'M GOING TO RIP IT FROM YOUR QUIVERING FLESH AND USE IT AS A CHAIN FLAIL TO DISFIGURE YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND YOU'LL STILL BE ALIVE TO SEE IT BECAUSE I AM SO FUCKING FAST. HOW DOES THAT TASTE, ED?!

If you imagine every character in Mortal Kombat was on coke, the game starts to make a lot more sense.

(Ed: Look bro, my name isn't Ed. It's short for Editor, you know? The guy you payed half a bottle of bourbon to proof-read this septic shit-pile you call a campaign manifesto? I describe it thusly as you have yet to suggest anything you would actually do if elected to a position you've still failed to decide on. Other than calling Tuesday Steak and Hookers day, though you have failed to explain how forcing every member of the student body to eat under-cooked meat and fuck squawking street-walkers is going to help anything. Or, if the students actually get access to said steak and prostitutes. I'm not sure whether you really do have a moron's understanding of the Guild's financial input/output, or if you just really like Steak and Hookers. Now I may just be a simple country alcoholic with a competent grasp of the English language, but I honestly believe allowing any of this 'work' into any form of physical print is ethically equivalent to a war crime.] 

Dearest Ed, I will anger-fuck your eye sockets so deep the attack will constitute statutory rape of your neo-cortex.

[Ed: I still get my bourbon though right?]