Charlie Sheen blinked, and the world was cured. Duh. Winning. What happened next, of course, is difficult to put into words. Well, first what happened next is that Charlie Sheen took a sip of Diet Red Bull and tapped the ash from his cigarette into a glass of ice. Slowly, men who had been in wheelchairs their entire lives stood and began to take tentative steps forward. The blind were momentarily panicked, believing that the visions they were having were the delusional hallucinations of a dying mind, only to discover that they could once again see, and tears streamed down their faces. Entire wards of hospitals emptied into the streets in boisterous celebration. People forgot how to say the word “SIDS.” A man who had his legs blown off in a war began to dance.
Other effects of what would later be referred to as “The Miracle” were even more mysterious, but no less important.
Children long estranged from their parents found their fingers dialing long-forgotten phone numbers seemingly by themselves, only to feel their faces light up with joy at the sound of their distant loved one’s voice. Pilots of fighter jets armed with nuclear warheads discovered their controls were unresponsive, but rather than falling from the sky, the planes took the scenic route back to the military bases, where brunch was being served. The Internet could no longer post photo galleries of tiny animals wearing tiny casts on their tiny broken limbs because all of the pets were healthy. Oil-slick birds dotting the Gulf Coast took flight, their perfectly clean plumage shimmering in the sun, which shone through an undamaged ozone layer. Cigarettes were no longer addictive. Politics were no longer about money. The traffic in Los Angeles became bearable. Summers in New York didn’t smell like garbage anymore. 9/11 never happened. Rihanna could hold a conversation.
And no one ever died again.
Charlie Sheen shrugged and leaned back in his chair, where one of the goddesses was giving him oral sex. The trolls with their unevolved minds would never be able to process it. He had tried to explain the concept of “winning” to them in a Ustream video interview with Ass Dan from TMZ, but even that had not been enough. He had tried to explain it to them on 20/20 and had even used the word “skullduggery,” thinking maybe that would get through to them. It hadn’t. So he had been forced to show them duh, boom, curing-the-world-runs in his underwear before his first cup of coffee.
With the world cured, Charlie Sheen was finally able to enjoy that first cup of coffee. Then he put on his pants. No, wait, then he smoked some drugs and threatened to cut his child’s head off and fucked another prostitute who lived in his house and shouted racial epithets into a microphone in response to a question that no one had asked and THEN he put on his pants. The coffee was the perfect temperature and had just the right amount of cream in it, in case you were wondering, duh.