Dear Colleagues,
I cannot begin to express my gratitude for the honor that you have bestowed upon me with this notable award. I cannot thank you, my dear colleagues and friends, enough. Thank you!
[applause]
Though I am not usually one to toot my own horn [laughs], I must tell you the remarkable story of this literary project. I hope that I do not bore you; I’m not much of a story teller.
This award is an incredible accomplishment, one that I worked half-heartedly for almost six months to achieve. I cannot begin to express how easy it was for me to win. You cannot fathom the ease with which I went about winning this Nobel Prize.
[applause]
Throughout my life, I have had a vague desire to write something meaningful, but until recently I lacked the motivation or confidence in my skills to pursue my “dream.” I spent most of my time drinking and complaining about the state of the world, consumed by bitterness and cynicism. Indeed, my behavior and attitude is much the same today as it was then.
[applause]
By the time I hit 43, I had spent two decades as a disgruntled Federal Express courier in Clayton, Alabama. My doctor told me that my alcohol abuse had left my organs in disrepair, and I could expect to need costly transplants within ten years. I had neglected to save a nest egg, and could not turn to my estranged family for assistance. Something had to be done.
[applause]
I resolved to write a book. With strong sales I figured I could earn enough royalties to pay for care of my decrepit body as it disintegrated piece by piece. But I didn’t have any ideas. So I ordered a book of plots online, and after several minutes of deliberation, chose plot number 387 as the basis for my book.
[applause]
Of course, I had never bothered to develop my faculties as a writer, and my prose was quite crude. So I hired a young English student at the local state college to ghostwrite and edit for me. I would write about a paragraph, and she would change it all around and expand it to several pages. Within six months, we had several hundred pages extrapolated from plot 387; that is, the cheating husband/closet-homosexual wife/prying neighbor plot. Those of you who have read the book may recognize those elements from my story.
[applause]
When we were ready to publish, I ran into trouble. No publisher was initially willing to consider my book for a real printing run. But I resolved to overcome this minor setback. Promising my ghostwriter a cut of the profits, I convinced her to seduce the vice-president of marketing for Random House. She was a charming and attractive young woman, and had a remarkable way with words. Within a couple months I had a contract for a five-thousand copy run. Quite an accomplishment for a first book!
[applause]
After that, it was all gravy. My book won the New York Times Book Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Award, the Pulitzer, the Faulkner Award, the Caldecott Medal, and now the Nobel Prize for Literature. Here I am today, before you, after a shockingly easy run to the top. Thank you once again for the million dollars. I have no other comments. If the press would like to field questions, please see my lawyer.
[applause]
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