I always start out by asking one simple thing of the people who work at a typical large corporation: “Raise your hand if you’re willing to do whatever it takes to increase sales and make more money starting today.” And of course, everyone’s hands are up.
So I say: “Okay, keep your hand up if you’re willing to get tangled in a filthy biker orgy with a pile of sexually deviant, deranged outlaw hippies with big, wild, beautiful afro hairdos.” Now you’re seeing some hands go down.
Then I say: “Wow, a minute ago you were the most willing people I’d seen. I mention some group sex in a dirty artist colony, and you’re suddenly not so willing. But it’s good to see some of you still have your hand up and are willing to increase your sales and income.”
And right here I’ll pause and look out at everyone who still has their hand up, kind of trick them into thinking that they’ve passed the test. I’ll say congratulations to them and stuff. And then I say this into the microphone: “Okay, keep your hand up i … you’re willing to stuff a half-dozen balloons of narcotics inside you and get through U.S. Customs in Miami for me. And let’s not talk about money right now, let’s stick to whether or not you’re even willing.” And you’ll see just a few hesitant hands still left up. And you know what these administrative and sales employees are thinking: Forget it! Drug balloons inside of me, and he doesn’t even want to talk about money?
At this point, I might get one question from the floor, usually one of the more traditionally handsome men asking if it’s makes him gay to do this for me. And I’ll say, "Nope, nothing homo about it, honey. Ladies, I’m asking this of you as well. And since this gentleman—[I usually ask his name and position at the company, and then work it into speech]—since Steve from Regional Sales is so concerned about whether or not it makes him gay if he hole-mules some horse for me, let’s up the ante a little bit, folks: What if I told you I can guarantee that you’re going to get caught being my hump truck? That I know which airport customs officers will get you and put you on toilet watch until you drop the prize, at which point the court will waste no time granting you a speedy trial and sentencing you to a dime bid in medium security general pop.
However, what if I give you my word that I’ve got a judge greased who will knock your dime down to a lazy eight in solitary − so, you’re the moist punk in general for a week, then after that you’ve got a safe private shower, three squares, and your own can? Good behavior gets you home in seven … at which time you will be paid handsomely, people. You will be paid exactly twenty-one times your current salary for 1.) Providing a decoy for my larger concurrent endeavor across the very same aforementioned border, and 2.) Doing the reduced dime bid for holing some horse."
As you might’ve guessed, by the time I get to the point where I tell the crowd just how much they’ll be paid, there’s not a hand left raised. And then I pause a real long time, I look out at the crowd, and I say: “Look how many hands are still up [none] and maybe now you understand a little bit about the difference between thinking you’re willing to increase your sales and income and knowing you’re willing to increase your sales and income.”
If the energy or morale in the room is low after facing the truth, I’ll get them riled up with my penis trick.
I haven’t been asked to deliver my “Triple Your Income” speech to a corporate sales force since I first performed it at a Microsoft team-building event twelve years ago. Bookings simply haven’t come in the twelve years since, probably because of the recession. Plus, I was a little bit drunk at that debut event for Microsoft, so I don’t think I nailed some of the timing quiet right. But when it works, this speech arouses people. Like fires. Or crying.