Listen, we’ve worked for weeks on this presentation. And I know this is big for us, hell it could skyrocket us right into that sweet paradise that is middle management! But you need to listen to me, look at my eyes, hear my voice, hold my hands, and trust me on this one.

I need you to smack me in the dick before we go into the boardroom.

Just a small smack, just a little something to get the adrenaline pumping. Nothing hard, nothing crazy. What I do look like to you, some sort of savage? You don’t need a big pendulum swing of your arm. Preferably just a little flick off the wrist, you know just an open hand — no closed fists. If you hit me in the dick with a closed fist so help me I’ll pour hot coffee in your eyes.

You’re giving me a look like it’s weird, and it’s totally not weird. I’ve been doing this my whole life, at every juncture I’ve been getting my dick smacked like a hero: when I played football in high school we used to do it before every game and hell we were Sussex County Interscholastic champions, my best man hit me square in the tip of my penis before I married my wife and I nailed my vows, and now you’re going to hit me in the dick before this presentation of the quarterly earnings. It all comes full circle, right?

While you do it, call me “Stacey.” It helps emasculate me and makes me want to prove you wrong. Because I’m not a Stacey and I’m not a quitter — I’m a champion who added some beautiful star wipe transitions to that PowerPoint.

No, I won’t keep my voice down! I want them to hear me, I want them to hear how strong and powerful I am! Give me a good smack right now! I need the rush! I need to feel it!

I am a champion!