If you knew you were playing prep school basketball with the future president of the United States, what would you do? Personally, I'd gather two of my most trusted friends when the crowd had gone home after a hot, sweaty home game and we'd murder him behind the bleachers with sacrificial daggers. Dragging his body into the woods, we'd make an enormous bonfire and eat his heart while chanting prayers to the Greek god of power, Cratus. That way, I could consume Barry Obama's spirit and become president. My friends would become the vice president and postmaster general. The kid who becomes postmaster general clearly recited the prayer wrong. Cratus isn't the forgiving type.
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