He must be stopped!

"For the last time, I am not the Great Bambino!"

Since 1966, Jerry Lewis has hosted a nationwide telethon every Labor Day in order to collect donations to help fund MDA research. Little does he know that the telethon is, in fact, a blight upon the human race. Americans are spending their hard-earned money on children who are just going to die within a few years; and it's not like they really want to live. If those losers truly cared about life, they would have willed themselves out of those wheelchairs, crutches, and Rascals, instead of lying there, stewing in their own excrements and self-pity. An early death is inevitable. For some of these paralytic abominations, they will be in the bathroom, attempting to transfer themselves over to the toilet seat, only to have their chairs roll out from under them, leaving their feeble bodies to fall headfirst into the bowl. Now what? Well, they drown. Too busy believing that they don't have the strength to use their legs, all they leave our world with is a not-too-pretty view of their rear ends hanging out of their now poop-stained adult pull-ups. The worst part is that some of these commode corpses actually received equipment and medical services funded byJerry Lewis and his telethon. Think about it: our money... flushed down the drain... for the sake of prolonging some cripple's miserable joke of a life. What a waste!



The telethon is nothing more than a "feel good" event that insults the few cripples who actually do make an effort to try and live a normal life. Many Americans will donate a few bucks, feeling happy with themselves for a day or two, but for those trying to prove that they don't need the public's sympathy, they are left watching Jerry portray them as helpless idiots live on national television.

It doesn't require an all-day sit-down to understand what's going on, either. At any given moment, you'll be greeted by one of three things: (1) old people and D-list celebrities sitting next to telephones, while Jerry or some other shmuck blathers on about how these gimps need your support (2) An encouraging tale about a young boy or girl who lives bravely day-to-day with their disorder, or (3) the most G-dawful performances ever imagined. One act consisted of five dancers, all dressed in black, tapping to Aerosmith's Sweet Emotion, while another featured comedic material from Father Time. Seriously, the man must have been in his late eighties. "You ever notice how hotel signs still say 'Color TV' on them?" Oh, you're quite the observer, gramps! Perhaps a millennium ago, this guy was the headliner of all the most popular mead halls throughout the known world, but today, he is merely a Kitschy suit and a tiny red bow wrapped around a frail, unsightly figure too depressing to laugh at. If I had continued to endure the pain, who knows what else I would have seen.

Jerry: "Let's give a round of applause for Punch and Judy!"



They realize their act is terrible, but, on the bright side, at least they don't have to worry about being sodomized by Mister Rogers in the Land of Make-Believe after the show is over.



X the Owl: "He's back, everyone! Run for your lives!"

Henrietta Pussycat: "Meow meow, bleeding rectum, meow!"

Actually, I did return later on to watch another hour or so (only because nothing good was on). Intermittently, Jerry would be replaced by a local version of the telethon. During which, channel 12 news anchor Curt Fonger told the viewers of South Florida to stay tuned for "the greatest 15 minutes in television history." I waited, but for what? Well, it was a picture of a boy in the middle of the screen. The picture never changed, nor did move around, or anything like that, but it was accompanied by a woman's voice who talked about the boy's life, and how he peacefully died in the backseat of his mother's car as they were on their way to pick up a new part for his wheelchair. She said, at school, he would ask the same girl everyday if she would marry him, and everyday she would say "no", but after his death, she finally said accepted his proposal. *A moment of silence.* THIS?! This is what you call the greatest 15 minutes in television's history? Up yours, Fonger!

This telethon needs to end, because it goes against the rule of "Survival of the Fittest"!

As you should know by now, Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, died from a heart attack during the filming of The Ocean's Deadliest (a stingray "attacked" his chest). Experts claim that the creature felt threatened, but the truth is that the rest of the animal kingdom knows we are growing weaker with every new telethon. If we continue to allow ourselves to be held back by the cripples, pretty soon, every form of insect, bird, and beast will be upon us! The migration of killer bees, Roy being attacked by his own white tiger, a bird pooping on Cyndi Lauper's face, and the death of Australia's beloved nature host are all signs of the war to come if Jerry Lewis is not stopped immediately!