I would have started this earlier, but this is the first time I have felt feeble enough, ham-handed and butter-fingered and rubber-legged enough, to fully fail in placing this greasy American ball into the hallowed toilet of letters. The greaseball has reached its stall speed. The controls are mushy, and we're losing altitude. Prepare for a water landing.*

You can catch a fish with a turd if you are sufficiently convincing.
You need to have the look and speak the language, of course.

* This can be accomplished by saying, in a loud, clear voice, "Oh, fuck."