Your 2010 Low-Note Champion

It is simple, really, for all I must do is sit in a room. A dark room. A cold dark room. 65 degrees, pitch-black, and silent except for the sporadic cries of a starved cat. Then, once sat and cold, I think. I think of people. Busy men, women, the dying and the newly born, the children in school who assaulted me daily, and my father. I think of them and I hate them. The hatred builds in the cold darkness and soon it is boiling in the pit of my soul. Like an approaching thunderstorm, I feel the hatred rumbling, growing stronger with every face I imagine until it finally erupts in the form of low notes. Or gas.

Yes. It is pure pain that is collected, and so it must hurt. If pain were not coursing through my mouth, lungs, soul, and vocal cords then I would not be able to be a low note master.

Control, pleasure, feeling in extremities. These are things I take from the listener and crush in my fingers.

Watching my father slowly die of arsenic poisoning. Putting arsenic in his morning coffee. Measuring how much arsenic it takes to kill a burly monster. Buying arsenic. But I was a child then, and the memories are weak.

Low note singing is like a fine wine to disco's soda pop. The tinny bleeps and bloops and falsetto riffraff is garbage and will never surpass my craft. The world thrives on suffering and pain, and so the collective idiot population will not be able to comprehend something so falsely vibrant.

I am God.

End of Interview
Finally, we announce that Sir Geoff has broken the world record for low-note singing. Though it is lower than the human ear can sense, a series of tests were run to prove that he was in fact singing.