Charlie Sheen, our new social media overlord, has opened the door for veritable millions, or tens of dozens of applicants to sign on to be his very own intern.
We’re still not totally sure what that means exactly. We can only suggest that if he asks you to taste something or inhale something, you should think twice. Barring any scary incidents that involve sharing a sweat lodge and writing Haikus using the blood of a fruit bat, we think you’ll be okay!
After our little contest yesterday to find the absolute best person for the job, one such person stood out and indicated in a sincere and heartfelt manner all that they would do to make the incredibly difficult life of a spoiled and certifiable maniac go easier.
Here’s what our winner Thunderclees had to say:
Dear Mr. Sheen,
I recently learned of your need for a #TigerBlood intern. I believe that my unique combination of outstanding social media skills, tenacious work-ethic, and above-normal tolerance for narcotics would make me a strong addition to your team.
I believe that we have just ascended into the foothills surrounding the peak of Mount Sheen. Atop Mount Sheen, gilded eagles—not golden eagles, those pedestrian birds that anyone can see at some crummy zoo somewhere, but rather gilded eagles, bald eagles painstakingly covered by hand with gold leaf—gilded eagles soar freely, only for the pleasure of feeling the wind beneath their wings and seeing the sun glint off their metallic feathers. Ordinary Sherpas, hardy as they may be, will not bring you to the top of Mount Sheen; no, you, Mr. Sheen, will need a social media expert uniquely attuned to the needs of an extraterrestrial celebrity (I refuse to use the Earthly word “rockstar,” but to properly pronounce the correct word, I’d first have to rip out your tongue). I am that social media expert, and I will cover myself in any and all tattoos you deem necessary to demonstrate my commitment to Winning with Team Sheen.
I am sorry to hear about the recent departure of Miss Olson, and while I know I can never fill her shoes, I’ve been told that I’m quite comely when the viewer is properly intoxicated.
Thank you for your consideration, and I look forward to your response.
Warm regards,
Thunderclees
We think you’ll be fantastic! You have our full support. Remember, wash your hands regularly, make sure no one tries to put anything into your food or beverages, and most importantly check Sheen’s breathing every 46 minutes.
You’ve won our adoration, copious bragging rights, and this awesome picture of an egg sammich:
We’ve also drawn up a letter of recommendation that exalts your work ethic to set you on your way.
Mr. Sheen!
I have nothing but great things to say about Thunderclees. You couldn’t find a better intern. Not only will you gain someone who will go to the ends of the earth to find you the most obscure potions and elixirs to keep your virile synapses flowing, but you’ll get someone who can look intimately into your very soul and see all the westernized tumors that could take root in your essence. Thunderclees will pluck them out using nothing but the best miracle-based blessed daggers — after all, that’s what you’ll pay for.
Thunderclees is not just a person who can enhance your social media image, but someone who can brave the veritable bowels of hell, and erase any evil stains that lie within by fighting every be-sworn demon or demigod that could threaten your lair of wanton prostitutes, powdered substances, and genius thought-bubbles of enlightenment and ecclesiastic joy.
I recommend Thunderclees highly!
There is no better bearer of Bastille benevolence.
It will be a great loss to us to see Thunderclees go. But you, sir, truly deserve this treat.
Sincerely,
Spirit Fingers
President and CEO, FALcore Industries
