Take today as an example. Did the nine-to-five without breaking a sweat or breaking into song, so that’s a victory. Had a fine dinner and later as I was sprawled out on the couch an odd assortment of concepts congealed into something somewhat frightening.
They really don’t need him anymore.
“There’s no way he’s going to be this organization’s Presidential candidate.” Beppo had control of the room. “As a matter of fact, there are many of us who consider him an extreme liability. More than anything else, Americans hate horse thieves. And they really, really will fire the wrath of God on a, lying, horse thief. And a whole bunch of our people are seeing him that way now.
“Let’s face it, he’s had his run. It’s time to turn this fucking limping, screeching, obnoxious liability into the best kind of asset we can.”
“How’s about he sicks it out? Comes down with malaria or something?” Kitchen appeared lost in thought.
“Definitely considered. Definitely. His royal fatness, I am sure, hosts numerous ailments which might do him in at any moment but, although illness would very well turn this situation into an asset, we think we might have a way to eke out even more mileage from the old boy.”
“Inheritance baby resigns and anoints another?” Glastonbury intoned the obvious.
“You know Fats isn’t gonna go for that.” Ripper snorted while straightening his tie.
“We have discussed this. As was mentioned, it’s never going to happen. Knowing full well that if you don’t win your fate will be much more dire than losing an election for some boondock mayorality, you know he’s not bowing out. He’ll fight on to all of our detriment. Allow me now to share the thoughts of the committee.
“You all know I am a fan of old movies. Listen for a minute or two.” Beppo smiled and eyeballed his notes.
“Now here’s how it happens. And might I say here that most necessary elements for this endeavor are already in place, patiently awaiting their time.
“The committee has spent many months reviewing any number of plausible scenarios. We do our darnedest to cover at least the bare minimum of possibilities. These particular circumstances were guesstimated very, very high, and this scenario is the culmination of our best efforts.
“All would come to an end soon after our clown emerges victorious at the convention.
“This past Tuesday an outspoken transsexual, whose outward appearance is that of a woman, was brought in by our men and is currently under, let’s say, heavy sedation until that time when it will be needed. That’s Number One.”
“They don’t by any chance happen to know each other, do they, Beppo?” Kitchen again.
“Actually I’m not privy to such detail. Compartmentalization, they say. I’ll bring it up. Back to it then.
“Number Two is ex-Iranian military. Ranger type or at least their equivalent. Sharp. He’ll be fallback in case something goes totally astray but we imagine more beneficial outcomes if our primary, Number One, takes the fall.”
“Will any blues be injured?” Wall was always concerned about her troops.
“Not if everything, or at least most everything, plays out the way we think it should. Only one fatality on site.”
“Will any friends be there?” Kitchen was leading this inquisition.
“Three, I’m telling you, three of our people will be on stage with him. Couldn’t believe it when they told me. Three.”
“Out of how many?”
"Mostly the rest of the family. Some high ranking media echoers. Like I said, three, getting into position should be relatively a bit easier.
“Logistics, transport, local enforcement, already in place.
"Still working on a go signal. Certainly a minor issue. His roundness doesn’t read very well so we can’t use cue words inserted into his victory speech. I’ve tried and failed to imagine how much blather that would be but, as some might say, words fail me.”
“Is he that much of a liability? I always considered him moderately amusing. Does it have to come to this?” Rayon decided to make their presence known.
“Our research, and unanimous consent of committee with their considerable experience, say yes. He has to go in a way most beneficial to our organization. Research sees him as a loser and his name alone costs the down tickets almost everything. With him gone, in our maximalist fashion, we will still lose the big one but the harm to down tickets will not be fatal. It’s do or die time.
"Sometime after the nomination and toward the beginning of his acceptance speech, we don’t want it to be at less than five but no more then ten minutes. If it were up to me I’d be as close to five as practical. Who needs listening to his shit more than necessary?”
“Is Tip Top here tonight or are we going to have to wait until morning to get the picks? “
“Wait until morning. The markets will be just as open for business as they ever are. I’m told none of TipTop’s tips are particularly time sensitive.”
“I’m guessing Number One will encounter some heroic blue and not-survive?”
“Covered in, what do they call it? GSR. Gun Shot Residue. Which will match the weapon used by Number Two.
“Number Two will be found dead, somewhere little known and far away, within the week. Another knotted end.” Beppo grinned.
Continuing: “Two shots. Clean. Head. Chest. Suspect dies in firefight with our courageous blues. Any further questions?"
“And I’m assuming one of our three friends on stage with him will jump in and, cradling Fat’s volleyball of a head in their arms give a speech for the ages.” Oddly, Kitchen actually said this with a wide smile.
“Absolutely. You’re getting it. You’ve seen the movie. This will be a speech the Committee has been working on for nearly a year. Just in case events like those we now have might occur. At the end of the speech with the babbling, drooling, dribbling, dying candidate’s head in the new candidate’s arms, the entire country will be moved to tears and we might as well enthrone our speechifying friend as the new POTUS then and there; bloodstained battered but ready to defend our United States of America! Vote for Me and god bless America!
“And finally. And finally after all of these years. She will, as she cradles our fat, inane martyr to her breast and calls on America to avenge this attack on Christianity and our Homeland, Sarah Palin will, after all of our blood, sweat and tears, become the next President of Our United States!
by Peter Breschard
