The Cameramen were transfixed. They couldn’t look away. They broadcast the Golden Toilet 24/7. “Look at this grotesque, plumbing-based entity!” their silent captions screamed. “It is not a Speakerman! It is a Toilet!”
But the more they broadcast, the stronger it got.
Soon, smaller toilets began popping up everywhere. Red-capped toilets. Angry toilets. Toilets on trucks. They all sang their own versions of the G-Man’s song.
“FAKE! FAKE! FAKE! FAKE!” “SAD! SAD! SAD! SAD!”
The Speakermen were horrified. They formed an alliance, led by a Titan Speakerman who represented the very concept of the establishment. They blasted their most powerful sounds: “Economic Projections!” “Foreign Policy!” “Read the Transcript!”
But the Golden Toilet just grinned and flushed, unleashing a powerful wave of whataboutism that sent the Speakermen reeling, their audio feedback screeching.
“It’s just toilet talk,” the G-Man’s head announced, his voice echoing from the U-bend. “We’re going to make the plumbing great again. Brr-Skibidi-MAGA-dop-dop-yes-yes.”
The Cameramen, who had despised the Toilet from the beginning, found they had given it all the power. By filming it, they had spread the song. The repetitive, simple, pounding rhythm had infected everyone. The Speakermen’s complex, multi-layered symphonies of governance stood no chance against a simple, catchy beat.
In the final battle, the Titan Speakerman squared off against the Golden Toilet in the grand forum. The Speakerman prepared its ultimate sonic blast—a 40-minute speech on “the soul of the nation.”
The Golden Toilet just looked at the camera, winked, and sang its most powerful verse.
“WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!”
The public was infected. The Speakermen were flushed. The Cameramen, short-circuiting in panic, had no choice but to film the G-Man’s victory.
The Golden Toilet was rolled into the Oval Office, its head beaming triumphantly. It had defeated the Speakermen, outwitted the Cameramen, and done it all by singing a song so simple, so crude, and so loud that no one could hear the music of governance ever again. And the whole world watched, half in horror, half unable to stop their feet from tapping to the beat.
