The New Yorker Caption Contest is RIGGED #1

For the last year, I've been sending in occasional attempts to win the New Yorker caption contest. So far, I have been unsuccessful and this is because they are a bunch of bourgeois fools without any sense of artistic integrity. Because they are physically incapable of appreciating true genius, I will be documenting the deserving entries they continue to ignore here.

Note the vacant, yet displeased look on this man's face; the stubble, the slumped shoulders, clearly this is a man who has seen a recent struggle. His ever-so-slightly furrowed eyebrows tell us he does not believe this creature, or at least that he welcomes death with open arms. He has captured this small monstrosity in glass and would rather die than allow it to escape.

The prisoner is distressed. He does not wish to be in this transparent prison, nor does he wish to harm the man, but he must be free. All men must be free. In the words of Kant, "to give up enlightenment altogether, either for oneself or one's descendants, is to violate and to trample upon the sacred rights of man." The price of freedom is the blood of the man. Is the creature's face in distress that his liberation demands such evil? Do such mere concepts matter to a beast as this? I cannot answer this, but he can:

Alexa, release the nerve gas.