The Great Email Scandal Of 2032

By John Saleeby
May 1st, 2005

The Big Issue of the 2032 Presidential Election - Should Man colonize Mars now that the Martians have turned out to be such a bunch of Weisenheimers?

From the very beginning of The Electronic Age the Martians had been picking up the Earth's radio and television signals and, now that Mankind had finally made contact with them, we were the butt of one crude, silly remark from our new Martian friends after another.

The First Meeting Between Man And Martian:

"Greetings! I am Captain Dennis Sullivan of the United States Air Force!"

"Sullivan? Ed Sullivan? I'll give you a 'Really Big Shoe' up your ass! Hey, where's Topo Gio?"

"Topo Gio?"

"Huh? Wouldn't you know it? First Man on Mars and he don't even speak English! How is it possible to get into NASA without a Green Card?"

"Uh . . . "

The first meeting between Krollnar, Emperor Of Mars, and Anne Coulter, President Of The United States, was robbed of whatever historic grandeur it might have offered when Krollnar did a three minute bit about Abraham Lincoln's brain splattering all over the audience at Ford's Theater and then accused Coulter of being a lesbian. Unfortunately for Coulter's political career she clearly found all this very amusing and was forced to resign from offfice.

The first expedition to Mars ended with Captain Sullivan and his crew losing their tempers and killing one quarter of a million Martians. Fortunately the Martians just laughed it off - "They were a buncha jack offs, anyways!" - but it wasn't exactly what NASA had envisioned for the first meeting between the Human Race and Extraterrestrial life.

"I didn't train for twenty five years for some fat little space creep to make jokes about going down on my Mom!" Sullivan declared at his Court Martial.

The Martians were perfectly willing to cooperate with humanity but only if we were willing to cheerfully put up with their relentless "kidding". But after the deaths of billions of people in the Holy Land Nuclear War of 2024 and then the Radioactive Crab Plague 0f 2026 in which half of the Earth's population were devoured by crabs the Men and Women of the Earth were in no mood to take a joke. The time had come for an American Leader with absolutely no sense of humor and as the 2032 Election approached Wil Forbis, Internet Billionaire And Savior Of Humanity ("How can a man not open his Heart and Mind to The Wisdom Of My Lord And Savior Jesus Christ after seeing trillions of radioactive crabs rise up from the sea and devour half of the Human Race?"), was looking more and more like that man.

Our Hero! A Plague Of Crabs devouring everything left behind from the Nuclear Holocaust and no one but Wil Forbis was calm, cool, and collected enough to FREEZE DRY all of those crustaceans so, not only did they stop eating everything and just sit there harmless and kind of comical looking, but now the Survivors - The Men, Women, And Children who had been entrusted with carrying the great civilization we had inherited into The Future - had a Guarenteed Supply of Nutritious Protein to sustain us for at least half a century! Who needs whatever they've got on Mars? We got CRAB! Yes, we were going to make it. We were going to be ALLRIGHT! Praise The Lord And Pass The Crabunition! Have A Crab And A Smile! What The World Needs Now Is Crab Sweet Crab! All You Need Is Crab!

But . . . To find out that, after all we'd been through with thermonuclear war and thermocrabular plague to top it off, those guys in NASA were still messing around with all their rocket ships and cutesy press conferences and wanted to go on with all that Walter Cronkite mess just like all that crab crap never happened? Where were all their brainiac technicians and media spokesmen when those crabs were . . . Hey! Here's a Good Question - How many NASA employees were eaten by crabs when everybody else on the planet was getting eaten by crabs? If there was anybody in the world in a one hundred percent crab proof bunker you just know it was the guy who knew how to land a space ship on Mars! Wholesale Death And Destruction and the whole time he was underground building a robot with fingernail trimmers on the ends of his fingers instead of fingernails! It was almost enough to bring back The Phone In Talk Radio Show! Outrage! Beyonce Knowles' Last Words - "Fuck THAT!" Amen, Sister!

BRAVO FORBIS! A man of such incredible mental energy that when he remembered he'd left his wallet in his other pants lightning bolts shot out of his eyes and scorched everything within three and a half miles, Wil Forbis had such strong feelings against human settlement on Mars the clouds in the sky above his head were arranged into the words 'NO HUMAN SETTLEMENT ON MARS' and he became so emotional when discussing the matter dozens of miniature Forbisi sprang out of his head and handed out pamphlets extolling the virtue of his ideas while dead bodies of great war heroes rose up from the grave encouraging their descendants to "Read that stuff, it's good shit!" Where would Humanity be without Wil Forbis? Nowhere worth building a highway to drive to, that much is certain, and when he decided to run for the Nation's Highest Office Ron Reagan Jr, The World's Leading Authority On Everything Under The Motherfucking Sun, was heard to say "IT'S A DONE DEAL!"

But then, from Out Of The Past . . .

"Decent People News has obtained emails from the early years of the twenty first century to and from Wil Forbis when he was the editor of a long forgotten web zine called 'Acid Logic'. Those who have read the emails say they present disturbing insight into the character of the man who could quite possibly be President of The United States . . . "

June 14, 2004 - From Wil Forbis to John Saleeby

How's this for a funny idea for an article - "The Tao Of Raping Girls, Cutting Their Legs Off, And Eating Their Tits"? You know, like "The Tao Of War" only about raping girls, cutting their legs off, and eating their tits instead of war. I'm laughing so hard just thinking about it I almost choked on the mouthful of tit I'm chewing.

June 14, 2004 - John Saleeby To Wil Forbis

Oh, very funny. Last night I was up praying for you until four AM and now this! Maybe I'll get better results if I convert to Catholicism. How about an article about "The Passion"? I saw it yesterday afternoon and I'm still crying!

June 15, 2004 - Wil Forbis To John Saleeby

"The Passion"? YOU FAG! You know what would be funny? A gay S and M version of that dumb movie. Write a gay S and M version of "The Passion" and I'll use it. You're such a queer that halfway through writing something like that you'll go nuts and an ostritch feather boa will grow out of your neck and start strangling little boys while you sing a Best Of "Thriller" medley. Yeah, write a gay S and M version of "The Passion" where Jesus grows an ostritch feather boa out of his neck and starts strangling little boys, shithead.

April 16, 2005 - Wil Forbis To John Saleeby

Hey, Retard - Since Terry Schiavo and The Pope died about the same time why don't we do a thing about how the first thing those two did once they got to Heaven was have sex with each other? Ha ha ha! And then the first thing Mitch Hedberg sees once he gets into Heaven is those two going at it right there in front of the Pearly Gates and he says "Uh, maybe I should go to Hell? I was a heroin addict, ya know."

The search for John Saleeby, the key to establishing the authenticity of the emails, lead to a tiny crab shell shack on top of a crab shell mountain in the tiny village of Crab Shell, New Zealand . . .

"I am The King Of Crab Shell! Wanna buy a crab shell motor scooter helmet? One Hundred Percent CRAB SHELL! I got a CERTIFICATE! Certificate's made outta crab shell, too - TASTEY!"

"So you are John Saleeby?"

"Useta be John Saleeby before . . . before . . . BEFORE THE CRABS CAME AND ATE MY HANDS OFF!!!"

"Aw, poor ol' guy ain't got no hands!"

"Used to be a professional piano player, too!"

"That's terrible!"

"Aw, I'm just kiddin'! GOTCHA!"


"I love that gag!"

"So you're not John Saleeby?"

"I useta be!"

"You used to be?"

"Cause now I'm . . . "

The old man edged sideways into the shed for an instant.

"Cause now I'm . . . "

He popped out of the shed with a pair of giant lobster claws on the ends of his arms.


"Johnny Lobsters?"

"Internationally Notorious Daredevil! Watch this!" he declared and dove off the top of the shed, slid down the mountain on a plastic strip greased with crab fat and landed into a bucket of choreographed cat fish.


A picnic table full of small children applauded as a large condor grabbed the waving claw man by the ears and carried him back to the top of the mountain.

"I usually sing 'White Wedding' for the fans while flying back up the mountain but that new condor squeezes my ears too hard, can't sing that song when I'm in pain. Gotta find a blues number, I dunno . . . " Saleeby reflected while loading some crab into a pipe and having a smoke. "What did you guys come here to talk to me about?"

"Uh, we're here to talk about these emails - "

"Oh, yeah - From Wil Forbis."

"So you are saying that these emails are authentic?"

"Well, sure they are! Anyway . . . Hey! Where ya going? I was going to make crab espresso!"

Wil Forbis was Toast. Toast that gets stuck in the Toaster so you have to try and get it out with a knife and your Mom goes "You're gonna ELECTROCUTE yaself!!" and you get crumbs all over the kitchen counter. Wil Forbis wasn't even Toast, he was Crumbs All Over The Kitchen Counter and that ain't exactly Drums Across The Mohawk.

But for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction and if the release of the Acid Logic emails caused people on Earth to reject Wil Forbis as their leader the Martians found them so entertaining that Forbis was asked to rule as their new Emperor, Krollnar having stepped down from the throne exclaiming "Damn, that guy is CRAZY! TOO MUCH!!" Of course, Forbis was too bummed out to take the job so NASA sent over that Johnny Lobsters guy and told em it was Forbis -

"Dig me, Martian Monsters! Here's my impression of Tim Conway in 'Million Dollar Homo', I mean 'Billion Dollar Hobo'! WHOA!"

Dennis Sullivan was elected President in 2032.


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John Saleeby wrote for The National Lampoon while he was in high school, was a stand up comic in New York, and has contributed to the net humor zines, Campaign Central, and the legendary American Jerk. He's on medication now so he's probably a little nicer now than he was when you met him earlier. Email -


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