I decided I was going to be the new president.

He just stared at me and was like, "Cool" in the most boring tone ever, but, I didn't let him ruin my happy day. I went home and tried to see how I could become president.

of the local Pancake Society, which had breakfast together every second Thursday to discuss breakfast. I decided that this group was ripe to become minions in my legion of terror

against nonflat foods. Scaloppine, Flounder, and pancakes were in. But we'd declared as unclean dumplings, stuffed peppers and puff pastries. The Pancake Society joined our crusade

against fast food joints that served crappy tasteless soggy pancakes. And so our first target was that

IHOP, International my ass! Where did they get the idea that whipped cream made it special? We went in under the cloak of night with our C4. The fireball was seen for blocks. Cops

cried at the sight because the Dunkin' Donuts was right next door to the IHOP we lit up with the C4. Several hundred squad cars raced by blocking the roads for miles so the

ghetto gangsta thugs who started the fire would be caught and put behind bars where they belonged. (That was us.) Charlie and I were able to get away but poor Emma was nabbed by

5-oh when she couldn't make it over the fence. We visited her in jail and man, was she pissed. I'd have been if I was her too. We were still on a high after being called gangsta

z by black people. ACTUAL black people (so... not Wayne Brady). All the BET, young jeezy downloads, and on-the-ground pants had finally paid off. We were certified fresh.