There are among us certain great men and women, who despite all that they have done for this great nation of ours (America, in case you haven’t been reading the papers lately), are perennially neglected by the media of our society.  Yes, though everyday they toil tirelessly to improve the lot of the common working man, it is all too rare that any of them receives the plaudits (by plaudits of course, I mean “wheelbarrows full of nachos”) he so richly deserves.  Can I then stand by idly and allow this wholesale neglect of the best among us to continue?  Duh, of course not (good thing too, otherwise this would have been a blog most un-Benlike in its brevity)!  Without further ado then, let me present one of the greatest sons of our land, Snarf.

            Now I know what you’re thinking, “But Ben, Snarf wasn’t all that great, he was practically the Walter Mondale of the Thundercats!”  How wrong you are, my friend.  Snarf in fact has a life story far more engrossing than that of many states (I’m looking at you, Oregon) and a list of accomplishments so extensive that I’m only going to pick out the silliest ones to write about today.  But before we can truly appreciate Snarf for all that he has done for us, I think it’s important that we learn a little about the adversity he has had to overcome over the years.

            Basil Smackpanda Snarfowski IV was born to a poor family of Frito-miners in the Province of Yaag, which sits beneath the ancient and brooding mountain of Zooglar, the Dark Enchanter, in the Western part of Missouri (where, owing to a state legislature with acutely bad vision, the state flower is, in fact, a duck).  His father, President Martin Van Buren was frequently unemployed, always drunk, and usually abusive.  His mother, Soviet Premier Leonid Brezhnev, did her best to hold the family together, suffering quietly through Martin’s periodic bouts of ugmo, while trying to provide as best she could for their seven children, of whom Snarf was the eldest.

            When he turned sixteen, young Snarf decided to make it big in show business, changing his name to conceal his Polish heritage, and joined a traveling circus, where he made a name for himself by getting shot out of a cannon while juggling a dozen hungry lions, who were usually on fire.  While this might well have gone on indefinitely, one day the cannon operator accidentally fired him into the audience, where he hit President William Howard Taft in the butt, serendipitously dislodging a hippopotamus that had lodged itself in his windpipe somehow.  His gratitude boundless, the President asked Snarf to join the Secret Service, as well as to help out with the Ed Sullivan Show.  Ed Sullivan, it may now be revealed, was really just a fictional person all along but maintained the illusion of existence by being, in truth, a suit full of chinchillas with an uncommonly good command of the English language.

            After this he spent some time traveling abroad, doing his best to improve the world with his newfound money and influence (hew had long since set up his family in a palatial undersea cave in the ancient and forbidden City of R’lyeh.  His efforts were sadly not always successful, especially the time that he spent some months in the steppes of France, trying with missionary zeal to make the natives aware of the existence of soap.  Most of them didn’t take to his strange civilized ways though, (which is just as well, for recent studies have shown soap to be lethal to Frenchmen) and Snarf, his good cheer imperturbable as a sea of anvils, returned to America.

            Now back in Missouri, amassed an enormous fortune after he developed a method by which the Federal Government may easily and safely be converted into cheese.  At last though, Hollywood beckoned, and leaving the stately Bong trees of his home behind, he made the trek West to star in Thundercats.  Now, you might think that for a man of Snarf’s experience and dignity, playing the sidekick would be somewhat demeaning, in fact, the very opposite was the case.  For so long had Snarf borne the burden of responsibility that it was quite liberating for him not to be the one in charge.  During this time he made many friends among the cats and crew of Thundercats.  A few years ago he did an album with Mum-Ra, that, while receiving little publicity here, did well indeed in Asia.  He used his sizeable fortune to help Panthro start up a chain of Nun-Chuck and Hairstyling academies all along the East Coast, as had been his longtime dream.  Finally, he earned the everlasting gratitude of all the Thundercats by punching Liono in the face whenever he got too whiny and annoying (which was most of the time, really).

            Snarf later went on to star on Star Trek: Voyager, playing the part of Neelix for the duration of the show.  Lately though, he has had difficulty securing parts on screen, owing to his outspoken condemnation of Islamic Fundamentalism, but has made the most of his time, relaxing at his luxurious estate in Missouri with his wife, Cheetara, and his son The Cheat, who is already following in his father’s august cinematic footsteps.  Now and then he still accompanies his close friend and associate Dick Cheney on secret missions to discredit the mullahs of Iran by knocking them out, dressing them up like ladies, putting a pork chop in their mouths and then putting their pictures all over the internet.

            So there you go, Snarf, a man for all seasons, champion of the working class, and totally bitchin’ man about town.  I think we can all sleep a little better at night knowing that Liono is not going unpunched, and that somewhere out there, there’s a mullah waking up with an evening gown on and the mysterious taste of ham in his mouth.