It was January 8, 1993 when I definitively proved that the earth is flat. I’d had my suspicions for quite some time, but I was unable to confirm them until that fateful winter day. I won’t bore you with the math, but let’s just say that my degree in quantum physics from Trump University certainly came in handy. Of course, I knew that none of the round-earther simpletons would even begin to be able to comprehend my ingenious calculations, so I came up with an experiment that a lesser mind might be able to grasp.
At 3:42 am, I went into my garage and took my magenta Brunswick bowling ball, the one my wife gave to me on our 20th anniversary, and brought it out to the center of Eastsound on North Beach road. I stood in front of Darvill’s, took aim, and gently rolled it down the middle of the street towards Homegrown Market. The shiny orb sparkled in the moonlight as it made its way into scientific history, revolution by revolution. Just as I’d suspected, the ball eventually slowed and came to a stop.
Now, if the earth was round as you’ve been mislead to believe by the corrupt special-interests groups, the bowling ball would have continued rolling until it made a full loop around the “globe” and would have ended up right back where it started. The results of my highly controlled experiment proved finally, without a doubt, the validity of my theory. I recorded my observations and went back inside my house to celebrate my triumph with a humongous bowl of Raisin Bran saturated with skim milk.
After compiling all of my data, I sent my report to Dr. Stephen Hawking in Oxford, England. Due to the negligence of my secretary, however, it was sent in error to Steve Hawkman in Flint, Michigan. Mr. Hawkman read the report and immediately realized its vital importance to national security. He, in turn, forwarded the report to his second cousin who performs maid service at the White House. She covertly left the report on the President’s desk in the Oval Office when she was emptying the waste paper baskets during her night shift. The rest is history. My genius was recognized and a huge parade was thrown in my honor, which people traveled to attend from all over the pancake-shaped world. Science textbooks were corrected, NASA was shut down, and Pollard Day was declared a national holiday.