"Why does the word document 'wizard' always ask so many questions? Surely a proper wizard would already know all the answers."
It attracted sixteen "likes", the most I have ever received.
This was a momentous occasion! No matter how hard I stretched my brain, I could not think of any other time in my life in which I had sixteen separate people congratulating me for something. All the memories dredged up from childhood successes—be they related to school, sport, boy scouts, piano recital, electronics club, state poetry championships, or construct-a-hat-based-on-a-nursery-rhyme-competitions—came with the realisation that only two to five "likes" would have attached to those achievements, varying depending on the amount of family members present.
Even my performance as lead male in my primary school Christmas play (read: Jesus) would not have garnered sixteen "likes", despite my insistence that I perform without glasses in order to portray a more "authentic" son of God (although I have doubts that Jesus ever had to improvise His lines due to an inability to read cue cards).
So, just like the well-known parable about the farming family who sliced open their magical golden egg-laying goose to find even more gold inside than they had previously dreamed possible, I will take The Best Thing I Have Ever Done and extrapolate further comedy from it likewise.
Onwards: why a "wizard"?
As already indicated in The Best Thing I Have Ever Done, these "office wizards" seem to be quite uninformed. Many famous wizards can read minds and see through time. The MS Word Letter Wizard does not even know what day it is.
Furthermore, the office wizards were brought into creation in order to help us lowly, mortal end-users, who do not know a professional memo from an elegant memo, or a return address from a carbon-copy. But most well-known wizards are not actually helpful! Observe.
Exhibit A: Gandalf. Highly egoistical. Has nasty habit of showing up to save the day at times very convenient for furthering his own glorification. Fakes own death. Wears cocksure smile throughout film series; as if to say, "I know what's going to happen, and I'm not going to do anything about it, baby".
Exhibit B: Wizard of Oz. Grade-A phony. Is to real wizards what the tomato is to vegetables, George Lazenby was to James Bond, and Pope Benedict XVI is to the papacy—an impostor.
Exhibit C: Merlin. Senile. Relies on an owl to get him from one day to the next. Sometimes goes by "Merlin the Magician"—weak self-promotion that suggests his actual wizarding prowess is underwhelmingly shocking. Is there a need for "Roger Federer the Tennis Player", or "Freddie Mercury the Singer"? No.
Exhibit D: Mickey Mouse in "Fantasia". Incompetence personified. The Greeks can manage an economy better than this 'wizard' can control even a single magical mop-and-bucket. There's a "bail-out" joke somewhere in all of this, and I'm going to let you find it.