I am holding this press conference to address the many distracting and, frankly, offensive criticisms my opponents are hurling at my choice for Secretary of Health and Human Services. I campaigned and was elected because of my promises to bring outsider expertise and alternative thinking here to Washington. I like to think that my administration nominations so far have reflected this. Capitol Hill culture is toxic, and I owe it my supporters, not to mention this country as a whole, to address these chronic problems right from the start. This requires a revolutionary reframing of how we view our governmental departments and their functions. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I’m nominating a necromancer for Secretary of Health and Human Services.
Balmogor Pestilion is not a household name, and that is precisely the point. He’s a maverick. A rogue. But operating on the periphery of society, feared by the elderly and the feeble, does not automatically make you a “dangerous fringe individual,” despite what malicious media outlets may say otherwise. And really, what you journalists have said about Mr. Pestilion is just awful. Simply disgraceful. I’ve spoken with Bal — we’re that close, Bal and me — and I can tell how hurt he is by all these accusations, by dredging up incidents that are so far in the past. I mean, really really far. Summoning a cloud of Red Death for the sole purpose of creating a rotting golem army in the 16th century — I mean, really? Where do you guys find this stuff? A lot has changed since then. No one else even remembers it except for egghead historians, Balmogor Pestilion, and his shrieking, undead army.
Pestilion admitted to the Red Death Incident, and has since apologized for a rookie mistake — and who hasn’t made rookie mistakes, by the way? — but look at what he achieved because of it. His ashen fortress, Mount Sinistral, is that much stronger and safer with a garrison of howling corpse infantry. My opponents and other losers are crying about how a necromancer is the last person you want heading Health and Human Services. “Oh, what does he know about health? What does he know about basic humanity and compassion?” That kind of talk. To them I say: Listen to what’s in Balmogor’s blackened-but-still-beating heart, not the incantations that come out of his mouth.
And for the record, he’s not “underprepared for bureaucratic duties.” C’mon. For years, I know for a fact that Balmogor has worked quite literally in the shadows — The Plane of Shadows, to be specific, a terrific place — toiling away in alternative medical research and new community-based programs that can enrich and reinvigorate our lives in ways we didn’t know we needed. The existing government programs we currently deal with are complete failures, let’s be real, and that’s why I picked someone who is committed to thinking outside the box. Someone who not only knows the latest science, but the oldest, most profane rituals from the age of darkness and superstition, too. And, folks, I and many, many others believe the jury is still out as to which path is the more effective. I think Balmogor is just the once-man to choose for this vital job.
Also, I mean, my nominee can reanimate the dead, infusing them with an arcane black magick you just aren’t going to find in the Beltway. Never mind “should he do that?” “Should” is for indecisive, unsure losers. That’s what cost my opponent in the end.
So, to wrap things up, Balmogor Pestilion has been one of the biggest supporters of my campaign since the very beginning. In many ways, he informed my views and directed the course of this past year more than anyone else. More than you know, believe me. I can’t think of anyone more qualified to really get in there and dismantle the existing system, infusing a new, dark energy into the way our great nation literally and figuratively returns from the grave. Thank you, and pray that I will be half as forgiving as Balmogor once I am sworn in.