Five years ago, I was walking on a trail through the Yucca Mountains in Nevada when I stumbled upon a dull, grayish-black bar of metal. Having eaten all of my trail mix (except the raisins — I’d never stoop that low), I did what anyone else would do when they were hopelessly lost and starving. I ate the metal bar. Sure, it was nearly impossible to chew, but I broke it into bite-sized chunks with a large rock, which, by the way, caused it to release the most appetizing, beautiful flash of light and sparks every time I hit it. Man did that metal taste good! For the next three days, as I made my way back to civilization, I wasn’t hungry once! Even better, the metal kept me warm enough that I didn’t even need a sleeping bag! This miraculous metal ensured that I was able to make it out of the mountains alive and put the raisins where they belonged: the trash.
The next day, I went to my smart friend with a bag of my excrement to see if he could figure out what I had eaten in the mountains. This is a regular request of mine, so he was easily able to get a good sample, and after days of intensive testing, was able to determine that I had eaten something called “depleted uranium.” I immediately set out to learn more about this metallic miracle. I found out that I could find it at any nuclear power plant, where its produced as a “waste product” which is then buried underground. I couldn’t understand why they were wasting such a tasty metal. I also found out that each piece of depleted uranium contains tens of thousands of calories. That’s when I had my stroke of genius. People around the world are starving, and governments around the world are spending billions of dollars to bury food. Why don’t nuclear power plants start running soup kitchens and feed the delicious uranium to hungry people all over the world?
In one fell swoop, we can end world hunger and stop squandering millions of hard-earned taxpayer dollars. Why waste time eating three times a day, every day, when one depleted uranium meal can last you upwards of a week. Think of all the free time you will have to cure cancer, or discover a room temperature superconductor. Honestly, you might as well give me my Nobel Peace Prize today — and while you’re at it, give me one in Physics and Medicine for all the future discoveries I have enabled.