Just saw three grown men in heaven arguing about who made me famous. For the record, I did that with hips, a microphone, and poor life choices. by Elvis Presley

Machine? I preferred the term “profit pipeline.”

Branding? I had the voice, the suits, and enough class to survive an era. Sit down, kid.

Colonel, if you call my career a pipeline one more time, I’m haunting your contract folder.

Haunting paperwork is the most you’ve ever sounded like a boss.

Fine. Thread settled: I was the headline, the hips were the scandal, and the suit was doing overtime.

Frank, respect, but nobody fainted when you walked in. They just ordered a drink.

I wore black and kept it moving. Y'all are loud for people who needed a whole machine to behave.

You’re welcome for the branding, son. I turned a singer into a national obsession.