“I am the world’s greatest American. I narrowly beat out all of China for the title.”

“I may not be the greatest American, but I am a better American than all the people born in Canada that still live in Canada. I wish Justin Bieber were one of those people.”

“I want to have a bunch of kids so I can open a factory and have free labor. Beat that, China!”

“With Mildred Feeblemeister dead, I’m now the world’s 77th greatest grandmother.”

“I’ll insist my competitor is the greatest, so that when I beat him, I won’t be calling myself the greatest—I’ll be proving it through my actions.
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“I am the minister in The Ministry of Scarcity, but I’m not ordained because they were out of the paper they use to print the certificates on. Still, the title alone carries some weight (2.2 pounds).”

“I want to write the world’s worst cookbook, which I’ll title: “The World’s Worst Cookbook.” It’ll feature recipes from “Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich” (peanut butter, jelly, and bread), to “Roasted Roadkill and Hitchhiker’s Surprise” (this recipe is a secret concoction handed down from my great grandfather to my grandfather, who told it to my dad just before he ran him over).
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