Since I will probably never get elected president or work outside of a laundromat, I figured that I would share the speech I prepared for the occasion:

My fellow Americans, it is with great pride that I accept your appointment as commander in chief of this great nation. I’ve never won anything except for that July 4 three-legged race.

But anyway, I never dreamed that the Running Wild and Looking Pretty party would be standing here tonight, yet here we are.

I grew up on the streets of New Orleans with a talent for cursing people out and unnecessarily removing my clothing. To anyone else, those factors would not make a viable president. But where they saw white trash, I saw the same but thought, “Damn, does he look good in hot pants.”

And that, my friends, is what marks this new presidency.

While I am a patriot, and by patriot, I mean Soviet, there are problems that we must acknowledge that are affecting our country, and I make it my goal to amend these over the next four years.

Washington is too cold, and it’s not in a state, which I admit still confuses me. The leader of our country should live in a more modest dwelling like that of his citizens. Which is why I announce Myrtle Grove Blvd. in Chalmette’s Myrtle Grove Trailer Park neighborhood as the new address of the Oval Office.

After much discussion with Vice President Flavor Flav, who possess not only foreign policy know how, but is also a scholar of Fyodor Dostoevsky, I have decided to appoint Vladimir L. Templet, my cat, as Secretary of State. While Vlad lacks any political experience, he’s a fighter and a maverick, and apparently, that’s all the qualifications he needs.

As I was touring the country, I listened to your cries about the economy. You told me, “Presidential nominee Templet, I don’t want to lose all my money and have to live in a Hooverville.”

And do you remember what I told you? “You won’t have to live in a Hooverville because my name isn’t Herbert Hoover. If anything, you’ll be living in a Templetville.”

But don’t worry, my people. I have a plan to pull us out of this economic recession. Just give me a few hours at Harrah’s, and this country will be so rich we’ll be moving on up to the East Side to a deluxe apartment in the sky.

Everyone will have the right to be married, gay and straight, everyone that is except for Vice President Flav, who has been married too many times.

If you’ll now excuse me I must get to my victory party where Flav and I are going to get crunk.

Thank you. We finally got a piece of the pie!