Dearest Greg Farterson,
Ivan and The Shark here to personally give you two boners WAY UP for surviving THE PUDDING CHAMBER. You looked like such a fart. It was great. The delicate orchestra of your passion for constructing model planes set against the backdrop of Scorpions’ 1984 hit, Rock You Like a Hurricane–all while pudding was thrown at you from every angle–that is what dreams are made of.
As Pasternak said, “Gregariousness is always the refuge of DICKFARTS.” By which we of course mean that you are obviously the winner of this contest. All the other losers who entered are trying way too hard. You’re not trying at all. In fact, you don’t even enjoy our show which makes us almost as excited as when we treated our listeners to that stripper-marathon. Now THAT’S radio!
We’ve taken the initiative to declare you legally dead, so if you had a job before this feel free to never go again. You will find also included with this letter your new social security card, birth certificate, marriage license, and property deed and title. Greg Farterson lives! And he is our new co-host every Monday and Thursday! Yes, we decided to make it permanent. No, we don’t care what you do those other days.
Oh, you mentioned you had a nephew that liked porn. Bring him with you on your first day. Faulkner said “a man is the sum of his misfortunes.” Get ready to grow your total, baby!
Ivan and The Shark