Like Prometheus, I stole fire from the Gods and gave it to man. For the last eighty years, I have been anguished by this decision. Am I responsible for how the atomic bomb was used? Did I begin a chain reaction that will precipitate Armageddon? Have I become death, destroyer of worlds? These questions weigh on me constantly.
So, come the Academy Awards, I have arrived at the conclusion that I will forget all that nonsense for the night and party my ass off.
My obsession with quantum physics drove me to the brink of madness, but now that I’m a part of “Hollywood’s Biggest Night,” you best believe Oppy is going fully cray-cray. For real. My laboratory assistants and I will be rolling onto the red carpet twenty-physicists deep.
And don’t expect to see my fugly porkpie hat and tan suit. I’m trading those in for tight leather pants and a backless, cherry-red top. (Thank you, Haider Ackermann.)