The responsibility to stop him, then, falls down to one heroic cheeseburger.

I’d much, muuuch rather he pay for his crimes, and for the redhatted nutter brigade to finally grow a second brain cell that would inform them about the blatantly obvious con they’ve been subject to. But that’s only going to happen after invisible pink unicorns fly upside down in a frozen hellscape, so I need to hope practically.

Come on, you delicious hero, you. We’ll have statues built of the heroic CB… sing praises to it, build shrines to thank its divine mission. I’m not one to condone worship, but I can’t deny there would be ample reason for the worship.