Lately, everyone seems to be all up in arms about Obama’s health care package. It’s a drain on an already overburdened economy. It’s an impractical pyramid scheme that will only serve to ruin private medicine. It’ll cause a rift in the space-time continuum causing you to become your own grandfather while simultaneously leaving a funny smell in the back of your closet you just can’t quite pinpoint.

That doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun with it. For example, these Death Panels? Don’t distance yourself from it, Obama, embrace the idea! With a little bit of desperation, you can get people to do some crazy shit for the sake of some pills. Let’s lay out some ground rules for those who really need that next dose of insulin. Scarf down another box of Oreos and I’ll think about giving you your next shot.

Anyway, if I were in power (and God help you when realize my ambitions to harness the raw potential of hipster irony) here’s a couple requirements beneficiaries must meet to receive any governmental care:

Reigning tramp champion (trampion):
Bloggin’ Bobby Jones

• Survive “Hobo Chicken”, a game requiring you to out-crazy a NYC hobo. Points are typically scored for such accomplishments as screaming at mailboxes, accusing squirrels of “stealing your brainwaves” and fighting off the invisible orangutans living in your cardboard box. Funny enough, the homeless themselves are automatically included in the health care bill, as they provide insincere causes for Democrats and comic fodder for Republicans
• Applicants fail if you roll doubles 3 times in a row or land on luxury tax, but can still get out by using your “get out of death panel” free card
• The First 3 Prequels of Star Wars. There’s no test here, I just think the movies themselves should be euthanized.
• Speaking of Star Wars, though, registrants must prove Jedi prowess by battling a rancor. Better start practicing your light saber skills, grandma.
• Defend a 10 minute dissertation on the one of the following topics: How a Voltron vs. Devastator battle would play out (separate and formed up, obviously); why Tygra’s one weakness (inability to swim) is some seriously weak ass shit; or how recombinant DNA from history’s craziest fucking psychopath leaders (Hitler, Stalin, Genghis Khan, etc.) plus a little snake for flavor can somehow create such a lame ass bad guy as Serpentor. If choosing the third, every other sentence must end in “This I command”.
• All associated parties of the Detroit Lions automatically fail. Not just members of the team, I’m talking head office, the franchise, physical sports paraphernalia relating to them and possibly the animal itself.
• All patients must maintain mandatory gym membership and attendance. I don’t really care about the health benefits, I just want to see people choose to be euthanized rather than run on a treadmill every now and then.
• Convince Brett Favre to retire. If something’s gotta die, it might as well be his career.
• Douchebags who have sincerely popped their collar, tattooed a tribal band around their bicep or frosted the tips of their hair can’t fail this fast enough. So help me God, if you’ve done all three you will be fired out of a catapult into the Grand Canyon.
• On command, recite all 9 ringers from Mr. Burns’ softball team on the Simpsons. Failing to accomplish such will result in a beating with baseball bats.
• Finally, I think we can all agree on mercy killing for people with the following songs stuck in their head: Styx – “Come Sail Away”, Baha men – “Who Let the Dogs Out”, and any Raffie song, particularly “This is the song that never ends” and “Banaphone”. I might have to apply early for this one now…

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