If your daughter is serving in Afghanistan and you're on welfare, if she needs food stamps when she gets back because there are no jobs where you live, do us all a favor and die.

You're an embarrassment to this country.

Your daughter should stay alive, however. She'll be needed in Iran soon.

Not too many weeks ago, I was writing that I didn't like Mitt Romney because he seemed to me to be the eternal boss, the guy who's told me what to do everywhere I've ever been.

I didn't know then that Romney was just one stupid speech away from coming out of the closet as a hater of the common people, a natural born boss who can't wait to hand the country over to his rich buddies.

We've watched this for 20 years — the jobs leaving, the unions dying, the rich buying one more Mercedes while you lose your house.

Romney's here to finish it, to finally hand all power over to those people whose hate shimmers like a diamond, whose only two urges are to stay rich and to mercilessly grind away at every right, every comfort, every bite of food going into the mouths of working people who are still good enough to join the Marines but not good enough for anything else once they get home.

You'll work then, by God, and you'll work for nothing. They'll let you keep your guns and your Jesus, and they'll take away everything else.

Romney, the rich man who didn't have to sell out but did anyway. The man with enough money to tell everyone to go to hell, to stand on decent principles but who didn't, who gives every inch of his belief to the people who pull and tear and rip at the people on the bottom.

Romney, who wants you kenneled and leashed and scared and quiet and hungry.

Romney, who holds that freedom starts in poverty, that God makes people rich as a reward for their moral superiority and makes people poor as a punishment for their lack of initiative.

Romney, who spits on the Bible because it says to help the poor, who doesn't understand that a republic cannot be upheld by people living in want.

Romney, the boss out of the closet, finally reminding you that you are not a citizen of this country, you're an employee of this country, and your work is worth nothing, your children are worth nothing, your boy in the uniform is worth nothing, your mother on Social Security is worth nothing.

Romney, who reminds you that you are meant to have only what the boss permits you to have, that you have no intrinsic right to anything.

Romney, the guy who comes around with the layoff notices. Romney, the boss who doesn't even look at you when you empty the wastebasket in his office. Romney, the millionth grinning image of the boss who calls you in for a disciplinary hearing.

Romney, who fiddles his taxes and takes care of his friends. Romney, who has never been in your neighborhood and isn't dropping by anytime soon.

Romney, the vile, cheerful voice of oppression, the embodiment of the hatred the rich feel for the lazy bastards who get by on $35,000 a year.

I called it, and I wish I hadn't.

Mitt Romney is every bad boss I've ever known.

To find out more about Marc Munroe Dion and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit www.creators.com.