All it takes to be king of the world is all the money, all the power, and a good manicurist.  My choice would probably have to be Madge of the Palmolive commercials.
 "Sire, sire, what great wisdom have you to impart upon us, your lowly servants?" people would ask.
 "Soak in it," I would reply.
 What if dishwashing detergent plotted a revolution and decided to overthrow the imperialistic regime of Humanity?  Wouldn't that be cool?  Watching little bottles of Dawn and Ivory and Palmolive and Dove and Joy and...and...and...all the others in their lemony, spring fresh, clear splendor.  There would be bubbles everywhere!  Floating through the air!  Oh sweet, soapy bubbles...There would be Mr. Bubbles and Mrs. Bubbles and all the little baby Bubbles!
 Speaking of bubbles, how many people collected the little comic strips in Bazooka Bubble Gum?  And what about those really stupid jokes they have inside of Laffy Taffy wrappers?  Do little kids really find that stuff funny?  And while we're on the subject of talking fruit (were we on the subject of talking fruit?)  What the hell was the deal with the Fruit of the Loom guys?  Do you suppose any of those fruity actors went on to play a major role in a Mattlock movie?  Who developed the concept of the fruit on the label coming to life?  That's just what people need while they're driving down the street: Fruit jumping out of their ass.  What do the Fruit of the Loom guys have to talk about, anyway?  Skid marks?  Accidents?
"Hey, do you know who has been in these panties?" the apple asks the white grapes.  "Everybody!"  the white grapes replies.
 "I do everything in my BVD's."  Yeah, that's something you want to advertise...
 I miss my Spider-Man Underoos.  Why don't they make Underoos in adult sizes?  I'd wear them.  I want Pope Underoos.  But only if they come with that funky Pope hat.  That would be cool.  Poperoos.  It could be a marketing phenomenon!  But why stop there?  The Pope's official incense, Pope-pourri.  Pope on a Rope, be saved while you shower.  Keep that fresh feeling all day with Pope Powder and avoid that nasty robe chaffing.  And on the Black Market, Pope Dope.  Yes, you too can fly to heaven and talk to God with Pope Dope.  Smoke a Pope.  And try new Pope Dope Light!  Half the calories of Classic Pope Dope.
Groovy, daddy-o!
Blasphemy!  Blasphemy!  Oh well.
 I want to start a new religion.  Why not worship invisible flying pickles?  Imagine if you will, blue pickles with silvery wings, or rainbow pickles or golden pickles flying over our heads.  They're invisible of course, but just imagine if you can't see them.  Or better yet, why not worship dishwasher detergent?  After all, we don't want them to revolt, do we?