[ WP ] After you are elected President , you discover a big red button hidden in your desk in the Oval Office . When you ask your predecessor about it , he said that it had been there for decades , but the secret of what it did died with Kennedy . After a few years , you finally give in and push the button .

Aliens exist, the Illuminati controls Congress, wrestling is real. Every state secret listed on a printout thicker than a double cheeseburger. My racing heart slows upon discovering that no, you ca n't order a lamb burger on Thursdays because the chef who handles that is off. The facts grow less interesting the deeper I go. The last line of the massive classified document is `` Do n't Touch The Red Button.'' 
 
 If I told you I knew how to run a country, I'd be lying. My hair is gray now. The Dow Jones is lower than my approval rating. Milk prices now rival gold. China points toward LA. Russia points nukes at NYC and DC. There are race riots, gender riots, economic riots, pizza riots, riot riots. My suit is stained at the pits and my collar feels tighter than an autoerotic asphyxiation enthusiast's. 
 
 My fingers dig into inlet of the panel cover. I swat it up and look at the big red button. My forearm quakes as I press my thumb to the shiny metallic activator. I push. 
 
 It depresses. 
 
 `` Please try again,'' the hollow voice says. 
 
 I blink. 
 
 Aliens exist, the Illuminati controls Congress, wrestling is real.
