Dear Mr. Bezos,

This morning I awoke to news so troubling it would make Gregor Samsa briefly forget he was a cockroach— Amazon announced the finalists for its new secondary headquarters, but among the list there were no truly groundbreaking candidates. As one of the largest companies in the world, Amazon has always found new and innovative ways to Disrupt and Pioneer the way we work in America.

Wherever you have built your warehouses, from Albuquerque to Zagreb, you have always found the quickest and most cost-efficient route to break both the bodies and spirits of all in your wake. In your mission to conquer and eventually absorb all the realms of existence, you’ve been the only CEO bold enough to actually invest in high-risk emerging markets such as the sunken city of R’yleh, an effort bolstered by your partnership with various illegal orphanages to expand the Amazon employee family.

This is why your latest shortlist for your HQ2 locations is so disappointing. Washington DC? Pittsburgh? These are all places where people already live, and their municipal governments still pretend to follow increasingly skimpy Labor Laws. As much as your mission to make city governments desperately jump through hoops for your amusement is in line with your off-brand Lex Luthor vibe, you have to step. it. up. [Note to my intern: put in one of those “jifs” the kids talk about, preferably of someone doing something sassy. Think “Henry Kissinger giving side-eye to the Hague” sassy].

As such, I actually must be forthcoming: I’m actually here with a business proposition. Sure, you could build a headquarters with the cooperation of a willing, eager, and morally duplicitous city government, but then you’ll just be another boring mega-corporation with two headquarters in real, human cities. What could be more bold, you might ask?

I would like to offer you the exclusive opportunity to be the first multinational conglomerate to build a major office on my pale, fleshy ass.

Now, you may think, “On his derriere? Surely, he must jest. I shall not stand for this affront to my dignity.” Please know, however, that I am as serious as satellite radio: you should build Amazon’s headquarters on my butt, and here’s why.

1: Undeveloped land = the perfect future home

Look, I won’t sugar-coat it: for the most part, my behind is an uninhabitable nightmare as it currently stands. Ravaged by years of sitting on toilets for too long with horrible IBS, my butt is basically a superfund site in all but name.

But where some might see a splotchy, shit-stained nightmare, I believe a visionary like yourself sees a blank canvas: a fleshy mold that could be shaped to fit Amazon’s every need. There are currently no other Fortune 500 companies based out of my ass — just a few small startups that I could very easily have kicked out within 24 hours. This could practically be your own nation state, a domain wholly outside US jurisdiction (well, ok, this might be up to the courts, but I’VE been arguing we are sovereign for a long time and I don’t intend to stop any time soon in spite of increasingly untenable legal costs). Labor Laws? More like Lay, Boar Laws! I don’t quite get what I wanted to say with that joke, but you get the idea.

So picture this: as you crest the horizon of my thigh, a huge holographic sign welcomes you to Amazon HQ2. Special guide drones are there at the entrance to my ass to lead workers and guests through the large array of caverns that house your offices. Sure, my colon might not “technically” be large enough to house a human being at this time, but I trust science to catch up with the market.

If you were headquartered here, you’d be home now!

2: I have no dignity

This is a big one. Sure, lots of cities right now might be making insane, irresponsible promises and pulling ridiculous stunts to woo you, but they can’t offer what I offer: a total willingness to lower myself to the utmost depths of what a human being can possibly be.

Do you want me to get inspirational workplace decor tattooed on my body? I’m in. Do you want to bring cameras into my rectum for the latest batch of Amazon Original Programming? I’m ready for my close up. Do you want to wheel me out at board meetings every so often, put me in a mudded enclosure and say “look at this fuckin’ asshole, he let us build an office in his butt” while everyone laughs and throws their broken Amazon fire phones at me? I’m game.

All I ask in return for this endless willingness to debase myself? Make my ass your new HQ. We’re in this for exposure.

3: On or In? The eternal question — and the biggest upside of a flexible location

Alright, so far I’ve assumed you’re gonna want the total package — both the surface and interior office space. But I’m flexible! Either/or is fine! What kind of city is going to offer you the chance to grow into the space? Nobody! They’ll be all like “blah blah zoning laws, blah blah housing rights, blah blah historical site, blah blah nuclear runoff”, booooooring. The way I see it, my anus is your anus — when you’re here, you’re family. You can figure out what space works best for you once you’ve settled in.

4: It’s smooth

Look, I don’t wanna be crass here — but my butt is pretty smooth. Most geological terrain you’re dealing with, you’re gonna deal with rocks, you’re gonna deal with dirt, gonna deal with unnevenness. I have an incredibly low hair density for most human rumps, and we’ve had a declining rate of pimple incidences since 2015! Imagine what that kind of flatness will get you in terms of real estate — perfect kind of thing to build a runway for your own private airport, just this person’s take.

5: It’s big

Well well well, schoolyard bullies — who’s laughing now? My gigantic ass you so roundly berated me for is now a gold mine. But don’t take it from me, listen to these testimonials:

“Donald Borenstein’s Ass is one of the roomiest asses in the entire tri-state area.” -Rich P, Air bnb review, 6/10/17

“I’ve never seen an ass like this” -Dr. Hank Rinaldi, my gastrointestinal specialist

“Wow, if I could found a company here, I sure would!” — Harold V., a guy I hired on Fiverr to survey my ass for an ecological impact statement on a previous venture (it didn’t pan out, cant say who it was but their name rhymes with “goober”).

So, take it from them: my ass is basically the new Texas

6: International Waters

So I alluded to this earlier, but the short version: I’ve been in a hotly contested legal battle with the United States of America to claim my ass’ right as a sovereign territory. The goal is to make it a haven for business incubation, free from the tyranny of the most horrifically deregulated industrial power in the world. We don’t quite see eye to eye, but rest assured: we have a militia, and it will be your militia if you move in here.

Think of all the things you could do outside of the watchful eye of the American government! You could underpay workers to toil away under inhumane conditions for hours at — [NOTE: while writing this, my intern grabbed my laptop out of my hand here and just started screaming at me to tell me to shut up because America already does this, so I’m just making a note here to come back and fix this passage, and I’m putting this note over the text so I don’t accidentally include this part. Jim if you see this before this goes to press please be sure to fix it], and that’s why Kenneth Lay was a martyr IMHO.

Anyways, where was I? Oh, yeah, you can do whatever you want on my butt.

7: Fracking

Look, I’ve got methane. You’ve got money. Let’s make this HAPPEN.

8: I have surrendered my soul to the craven pursuit of capital so this is the natural endpoint for both of us, I think

Look, I get it: we both want to cheat death by becoming God. It’s not gonna happen. But you know what CAN happen? You can be so rich that you bought someone’s dignity and colon and housed your business there. Even the cruellest of feudal lords don’t have SHIT on that. And you quite literally will. Meanwhile, I get to enjoy my place as a footnote in history.

9: No one will ever love either of us

The universe is a cold, ceaseless void that we have both attempted to overcome in our own ways — you through an endless conquest for money and power at the cost of countless human lives and a lower standard of living for everyone, me through trying to turn my ass into real estate. Two sides of the same coin really. We all strive for meaning in the universe, but only special people like you and I are so bold as to potentially upset the balance of all human life to find it in a very limited and selfish capacity.

Every morning, you wake up and stare at your fleshy, angular face in the mirror, and you see a man who has immeasurably shaped the world around him —almost indisputably for worse. Amazon has killed the bookstore, killed the record store, killed the video store, is killing the grocery store, and has lowered the value of labor — already minuscule in America — to horrifying new depths. And you have to put on your dumb vest or shirt and tie or whatever outfit you have on that day, and you have to live with that. And no amount of money can drown out that knowledge that when you die, many people will cheer for your passing — that if the revolution ever comes, your house will assuredly be one of the first in ashes. The world does not love you for exerting your will — it loathes you and it wants you dead.

Similarly, my ass hates me for all the Taco Bell and other junk food I eat, and it probably wishes I was dead. So, again, I feel you. We’re buds.

But we’re both running out of time and options. Soon, you’re going to run out of human flesh for your meat grinder, and I’m going to run out of time to fulfill my lifelong dream of turning my ass into a nightmarish corporate enclave. So why don’t we do this together, Jeff? Let’s make each other’s dreams come true. It’s time to settle down and establish Amazon in my ass.

So, I figure after all of this, you’re probably already jetting on down to my ass to sign the paperwork. If so, I’ll see you soon bud. But if you’re still on the fence, I have one final argument:

10: I fart and poop a lot and you can sell that as fertilizer for free. Boom. instant profit. Eat shit Monsanto.

Thank you for your consideration, Supreme Overlord Bezos, and please enjoy the ritual lamb sacrifice I included with my letter, as per your request.

Regards,

Donald L. Borenstein

King of my own ass