Lets have at it:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPuj8oFyr-hnprVnxcMExmINEiJx0pKATRptHcBAfsf1UojB_8tEhF8Kb-GlQwuO68lfUwFzybz1sCP4mvSoAyV0QWR9t74KDGYEq14AWoLCUIk1zgIC4LQmTqYZMYJFp3TgMRGD6GQlp/s320/100-dollar-bill.jpg)
WOYMB: So Ben, whats on your mind?
BF: Feet.
WOYMB: Um...Feet? I uh, right...So how do you feel about being highly sought after by the Hip Hop community sir! Honoured?
BF: Yes, I am honoured. It certainly is often times, all about 'myself'. However, one must not misrepresent me. Nasir Jones suggests that he would like "Dead Presidents" to represent him. I however was never President!
WOYMB: That is an excellent point Mr. Franklin! So, why is it then, that you never became president of the United States?
BF: Well, I suppose I would chalk it up to my wide ranging mosaic of interests. I felt as though being president would stymie my ability to pursue other facets of knowledge and discovery...That and my insatiable lust for feet.
WOYMB: Again with the feet! Is there something you want to get off your chest, Ben?
BF: Well, there certainly is something that I would like to get ON my chest; your feet, you filthy bastard! Take off your shoes! Let me see your jiblets!
WOYMB: Jesus! I think Ill pass Ben! Can we just get back on topic please!
BF: Certainly, certainly...My apologies...Just let me take a look at them...
WOYMB: No! Ben! Seriously, dude. Your getting pretty weird here. That look in your eyes has me spooked pretty good...
BF: Dip your feet in tar, and walk on my body.
WOYMB: Holy Fuck! Are you kidding me?!
BF: Feed your feet to my mouth. Call me a Walrus, and step on my face. I will give you 100 shillings.
WOYMB: Goddamn it, Ben!
BF: Make it 200 if you let me wear a large diaper. Not to worry, I already have a Man-Crib. We are well sorted...
WOYMB: I...
BF: 500!
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