Friday, March 30, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Rick Santorum Show
Spec script for the TV sitcom, “The Rick Santorum Show”
FADE IN:
INT. THE SANTORUM HOUSE — DAY
Rick enters the 50s style house after a day’s work.
RICK
I’m home.
Wife Cynthia and children Peter (age 6), Paul (age 12) and Mary (age 17) enter.
MARY
What a blessing. Father is home.
CYNTHIA leans in to kiss Rick on the cheek, but he pulls away.
RICK
Not in front of the children, Dear.
CYNTHIA
Forgive me.
(Rick slaps Cynthia’s face)
Thank you.
RICK
What smells so good?
MARY
Mother has made a roast.
RICK
I would prefer meatloaf.
CYNTHIA
Yes, Dear. Just give me a minute.
RICK
(To Cynthia)
Clock’s ticking.
Cynthia exits to the kitchen, head bowed.
MARY
Father, a boy has asked me to the dance on Saturday.
RICK
(Sitting down and picking up a newspaper)
You told him “no” I presume. Dancing is just another form of pornography. You know that.
MARY
And I’m pregnant.
RICK
(Setting down his paper)
Again?
MARY
A group of Hispanic boys gang raped me.
RICK
Well young lady, you march right up to your room and start thinking of names.
MARY
Yes father.
Mary exits.
PAUL
Father, what’s a liberal?
RICK
Where did you hear that word?
PAUL
At school. The teacher said some people are liberals.
RICK
Some people are serial killers, too. We don’t use that word in our house.
PAUL
Yes, father.
RICK
I’ll have a word with your teacher about this tomorrow. Now go read your bible until dinner is ready.
The two boys exit and Cynthia enters from the kitchen.
CYNTHIA
Dinner will be done shortly. Gloria stopped by for coffee today. She was actually surprised that I didn’t know how to read.
RICK
Why would any woman need to know how to read?
CYNTHIA
That’s exactly what I said. But she said I was…what’s the word? A cunt. She said I was an ignorant cunt.
RICK
(Lost in his newspaper)
Mmm.
CYNTHIA
Of course, I didn’t understand what she was talking about, but then she got one of our butcher knives and cut her wrists, screaming “I can’t live in this world anymore.” Right out there in our kitchen. She was having a bad day. Took me hours to clean up all of the blood. Oh, and I baked a pecan pie.
RICK
You know that my favorite is apple.
CYNTHIA
Yes, Dear. I’ll get right to that.
Cynthia exits.
FADE IN:
INT. THE SANTORUM HOUSE — DAY
Rick enters the 50s style house after a day’s work.
RICK
I’m home.
Wife Cynthia and children Peter (age 6), Paul (age 12) and Mary (age 17) enter.
MARY
What a blessing. Father is home.
CYNTHIA leans in to kiss Rick on the cheek, but he pulls away.
RICK
Not in front of the children, Dear.
CYNTHIA
Forgive me.
(Rick slaps Cynthia’s face)
Thank you.
RICK
What smells so good?
MARY
Mother has made a roast.
RICK
I would prefer meatloaf.
CYNTHIA
Yes, Dear. Just give me a minute.
RICK
(To Cynthia)
Clock’s ticking.
Cynthia exits to the kitchen, head bowed.
MARY
Father, a boy has asked me to the dance on Saturday.
RICK
(Sitting down and picking up a newspaper)
You told him “no” I presume. Dancing is just another form of pornography. You know that.
MARY
And I’m pregnant.
RICK
(Setting down his paper)
Again?
MARY
A group of Hispanic boys gang raped me.
RICK
Well young lady, you march right up to your room and start thinking of names.
MARY
Yes father.
Mary exits.
PAUL
Father, what’s a liberal?
RICK
Where did you hear that word?
PAUL
At school. The teacher said some people are liberals.
RICK
Some people are serial killers, too. We don’t use that word in our house.
PAUL
Yes, father.
RICK
I’ll have a word with your teacher about this tomorrow. Now go read your bible until dinner is ready.
The two boys exit and Cynthia enters from the kitchen.
CYNTHIA
Dinner will be done shortly. Gloria stopped by for coffee today. She was actually surprised that I didn’t know how to read.
RICK
Why would any woman need to know how to read?
CYNTHIA
That’s exactly what I said. But she said I was…what’s the word? A cunt. She said I was an ignorant cunt.
RICK
(Lost in his newspaper)
Mmm.
CYNTHIA
Of course, I didn’t understand what she was talking about, but then she got one of our butcher knives and cut her wrists, screaming “I can’t live in this world anymore.” Right out there in our kitchen. She was having a bad day. Took me hours to clean up all of the blood. Oh, and I baked a pecan pie.
RICK
You know that my favorite is apple.
CYNTHIA
Yes, Dear. I’ll get right to that.
Cynthia exits.
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
Monday, March 05, 2012
Rush Limbaugh’s apology to Sandra Fluke translated

For over 20 years, I have illustrated the absurd with absurdity [I have railed against reality with comments that in most other first-world countries would get me involuntarily committed], three hours a day, five days a week [you think it’s easy being batshit crazy every day? It's exhausting.]. In this instance, I chose the wrong words in my analogy of the situation [next time I will use the synonym finder]. I did not mean a personal attack on Ms. Fluke [even though it sounded exactly like one].
I think it is absolutely absurd that during these very serious political times [there’s a Marxist Kenyon sitting in the White House, people], we are discussing personal sexual recreational activities before members of Congress [who would do that 24-hours a day if we let them]. I personally do not agree that American citizens should pay for these social activities [unless I can watch]. What happened to personal responsibility and accountability [for women]? Where do we draw the line? If this is accepted as the norm, what will follow [if I’m too fat and ugly to get a piece without paying for it, nobody gets a piece]? Will we be debating if taxpayers should pay for new sneakers for all students that are interested in running to keep fit? In my monologue [temper tantrum], I posited that it is not our business whatsoever to know what is going on in anyone's bedroom [unless it involves any activity other than sleeping] nor do I think it is a topic that should reach a Presidential level [what do Kenyan’s know about contraception anyway?].
My choice of words was not the best [floozy or harlot might have worked better], and in the attempt to be humorous [I also think putting kitties in the microwave is a hoot], I created a national stir [rational people got upset]. I sincerely apologize to Ms. Fluke [the slut] for the insulting word choices [ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hah!].
Thursday, March 01, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Satan to Endorse Candidate

In a video sent to the media yesterday from his office in the Underworld, Satan let it be known that he would be endorsing one of the Republican contenders for the presidency within the next few days. Although Old Nick did not make the pronouncement in his release, he did provide some not-so-subtle clues as to his thinking.
“I like Rick Santorum, and there’s nothing in the Constitution that says American’s can’t elect someone who is batshit crazy. I checked. But of late he’s been taking some swings at me that are, well let’s be honest, mean. Usually I have a pretty thick hide, but even Beelzebub has feelings. I mean, I’ve only met the guy a few times and he’s saying these horrible things about me. Now that’s going negative.”
There wasn’t much positive in his comments related to Mitt Romney, either.
“The one admirable quality that I find in Mitt Romney is his lack of conviction. The guy will say anything to be president. How cool is that? But the poor man is also devoid of a personality. I swear, even I have a hard time telling whether he’s human or not. I’ve seen corpses with more life than this guy. But seriously, the man’s not presidential material. A Mormon in the White House? Come on.”
When it came to discussing Newt Gingrich, the Devil’s tone changed remarkably.
“Newt and I go way back. Oh yeah. We had some crazy good fun back in the day. I remember this one time…oh, I can’t go into that here. But Newt’s a great guy. A two-faced lying, cheating, bombastic little ogre of a man, Newt’s got what it takes to pick up the baton from George Bush and effectively run this country into the ground. I think he has the ideas and intellect to do it.”
Lucifer also hinted that he would be starting a Super PAC to support his chosen candidate. “I want to call it the “Hell’s Bills” Super Pak. Get it? Hell’s Bills instead of Bells. I’d laugh at Satan’s jokes if I were you. Just kidding. Why so serious? I loved that movie. Loved it. Come on, let me fix you a drink.”
Monday, February 20, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
The Mitt Memo

As the Republican primaries continue, so does the ongoing battle between Rick Santorum and Mitt Romney over who is more conservative. In the midst of this heated contest, a possibly damaging memo from Romney’s inner circle has been leaked to the press. The document, believed to have been written by campaign co-chair Albert Margrove, appears to be a series of suggestions for bolstering Mr. Romney’s conservative credentials among Tea Party members.
February 16
Boss,
After yesterday’s cluster fuck, I sat down last night and thought about how can we turn this thing around and quickly. Let’s get down and dirty. Pull out all the stops. This weekend, we issue a press release—actually a manifesto—that redefines you as the REAL conservative in this race. No more Mr. Nice guy. I’ve got to think more about the details, but here are the main points we’d make in the release.
• Women will no longer be burdened by the complexity of full citizenship. They will not need to vote anymore and not be made to endure the difficulty of juggling work and family as they will be barred from obtaining jobs in many fields.
• We will rebuild pride in our country by requiring all citizens to wear flag pins and display a “Support our Troops” magnet on their vehicles.
• We will save the unborn by making pregnancy out of wedlock a federal crime and abortion a capital offense.
• We will reward hard work by eliminating all taxes on incomes over $1 million.
• We will stimulate the economy with large-scale, contracted building programs, i.e.:
o Wall topped by electric fence along the full length of the Mexican and Canadian border
o Drill for oil everywhere
o Physically separate San Francisco from the mainland
o Move the White House and Capital Building from DC to the U.S. Virgin Islands
o Build more nukes
o Add Reagan to Mt. Rushmore
o Invade somewhere
• Foreign affairs: Cut diplomatic ties to France, ship the Palestinians to Uzbekistan, put military bases anywhere we fucking please.
• We’ll enhance competitiveness by rolling back the minimum wage to 50 cents/hr
• Public safety: Instead of a chicken in every pot, we’ll put a gun in every house.
• To instill basic American values, church attendance will be mandatory and non-Christians, people of color and liberals will be given incentives to move to Canada.
Okay, these are just some ideas off the top of my head. When we’re done, we’ll make Rick Santorum look like Michael Moore. Let me know your thoughts.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Back in the saddle
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Michele Bachmann has given me a reason to go on

During the Great Depression, our grandparents would find a brief respite from their difficult circumstances by reading the Sunday comics. The adventures of Superman, Buck Rogers, Krazy Kat, Popeye, Dick Tracy, and Little Orphan Annie helped people enjoy some humor in life and a bit of escapism from the hard times of the day.
With a few exceptions, today’s Sunday comics are neither comical nor engaging, so those of us struggling through the latest economic disaster to befall this country have to look elsewhere for cheap thrills.
I’ve found my Krazy Kat in Michele Bachmann. While routinely scanning news headlines on my favorite political sites, my heart races with anticipation every time the name “Bachmann” pops up in 14 pt. type. I know I can count on the story beneath that headline to rock my world.
Ooops, she did it again. Michele has been announcing to anyone who will listen, and don’t ask me why anyone would except those of us who need our daily giggles, that she’s not going to fill out all of her 2010 Census form. From the woman who knows more about climatology than all the world’s experts combined, we learn that the Census can somehow be linked to internment camps and other nefarious government plots to shackle and silence all real Americans…especially the lunatics.
Oddly, Bachmann didn’t raise these dire concerns several years ago when the Bush Cartel was asking Congress to let it wiretap and open the email every American with a pulse. That was Bush. Obama, the shape-shifting demon raised by terrorists in a secret laboratory in the mountains of Afghanistan in order to bring America to its knees from inside the Oval Office, is a different story.
I was appalled when Minnesotans of the sixth district reelected Bachmann back in 2008, but I have a very different perspective on the whole affair now. She’s funnier than any Sunday comic (with the exception of Dilbert) and her every insane utterance is the stuff of which legends are made. Michele has given me reason to get out of bed every morning.
You go, crazy girl.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Officers jump ship as the U.S.S Coleman continues to sink

LAKE MINNETONKA, MN – Although the captain and crew of the scow U.S.S Coleman have been bailing water for months, it now appears that even the ship’s highest-ranking officers realize their efforts are for naught. The ships fate at the hands of the icy blue waters of Lake Minnetonka is now almost assured.
Chief Communications Officer LeRoy Coleman (no relationship to the captain) rowed one of the remaining lifeboats ashore to join the Republican National Committee as director of media affairs. Only two weeks before, First Mate Cullen Sheehan abandoned her post on the Coleman to sign on as a RNC regional director.
The captain himself, never flagging in his belief that the ship could be made seaworthy again, has been seen sneaking ashore in the evenings to moonlight as a consultant with the Republican Jewish Coalition.
Over a pint of ale at the Cock and Crow, a former crewman on the Coleman confessed that the whole rescue attempt was a lost cause from the beginning.
“Ah Sir, we all knew there was very little hope in saving the old gal, sad as that be, and as time went on, it were clear the damage was too great to keep her afloat. But the Cap’n wouldn’t let go, and he was gettin’ orders from the shipping company bigwigs out East to try and save the old heap at all costs. There was no talkin’ sense to the man, I tell ya, and he’d walk the deck clicking those metal balls in his hand all night until you thought you was goin’ mad. Mad I sez.”
Some predict the U.S.S. Coleman will completely submerge and sink to its watery grave as early as this week.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
The Comedy Event of the Year: Dick Cheney's “Save My Ass” tour

HOLLYWOOD, CA — Dick Cheney, one of the funniest comedians to come out Washington, D.C. in years, announced the start of his national comedy tour, “Save My Ass.” Dick will bring his bizarre take on life and famous deadpan delivery to comedy clubs and newsrooms across America.
The publicist for the tour promises Dick will deliver many of his most famous routines plus new material that will leave audiences in a state of unyielding laughter.
“One of the new routines that people haven’t heard before relates to the bankruptcy of GM,” notes the press release. “Dick admits the Bush administration deliberately decided to pass the buck on GM and let President Obama deal with the problem. It’s timely, and too, too funny.”
The publicist also reveals another new bit called, “Blame the Other Dick.” With his patented sneer, Dick puts the blame for 9/11 squarely on the shoulders of Dick Clarke, the head of counterterrorism programs under Clinton and Bush. The set up begins with the former VP saying, “Clarke missed it when it came to foreseeing 9/11.” Then Dick brings down the house by reciting the titles of e-mails Clarke sent to Bush and company prior to 9/11.
“Bin Ladin Public Profile May Presage Attack” (May 3)
“Terrorist Groups Said Co-operating on US Hostage Plot” (May 23)
“Bin Ladin’s Networks’ Plans Advancing” (May 26)
“Bin Ladin Attacks May Be Imminent” (June 23)
“Bin Ladin Planning High-Profile Attacks” (June 30)
“Planning for Bin Ladin Attacks Continues, Despite Delays” (July 2)
The punch line? “The only thing Clarke didn’t do was bring Bin Laden to the Oval Office to discuss the time and date of the event.” Badda bing.
The finale is said to be a comedic coup de grace. After nearly eight years trying to convince the world there was a link between Saddam Hussein and Al-Qaeda despite the evidence, Dick turns the tables on everyone and says, “On the question of whether or not Iraq was involved in 9/11, there was never any evidence to prove that.” There’s nothing this man won’t say or do to get a laugh.
It’s no wonder Dick has earned the moniker, “The hardest working war criminal in show business.”
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Thanks, Tim, for brightening up everyone’s day
Your local weather report:
Skies over Minnesota brightened today after Tim Pawlenty announced he would not run for a third term as governor. The persistent weather pattern since 2003 of gusty hot air, oppressive ideology, and an intellectual drought will lift next year as the governor vacates his Summit Avenue residence.
Periods of cautious hope will appear in the skies above us, followed by the blustery winds of the campaign season.
The long-range forecast is difficult but early indications are that Minnesotans are looking for the winds of change to sweep across the state bringing with them new, more forward-looking ideas.
There are, however, a few models predicting severe, damaging weather if Hurricane Bachmann or to a slightly lesser degree, Tornado Norm, gather force. The havoc they can wreak has already been felt by Minnesotans who find their state regressing into a period of darkness as a result of stale atmospheric conditions.
In Minnesota, we take our weather one day at a time, and today prospects brightened that there will be a sunnier future for our blue state.
Skies over Minnesota brightened today after Tim Pawlenty announced he would not run for a third term as governor. The persistent weather pattern since 2003 of gusty hot air, oppressive ideology, and an intellectual drought will lift next year as the governor vacates his Summit Avenue residence.
Periods of cautious hope will appear in the skies above us, followed by the blustery winds of the campaign season.
The long-range forecast is difficult but early indications are that Minnesotans are looking for the winds of change to sweep across the state bringing with them new, more forward-looking ideas.
There are, however, a few models predicting severe, damaging weather if Hurricane Bachmann or to a slightly lesser degree, Tornado Norm, gather force. The havoc they can wreak has already been felt by Minnesotans who find their state regressing into a period of darkness as a result of stale atmospheric conditions.
In Minnesota, we take our weather one day at a time, and today prospects brightened that there will be a sunnier future for our blue state.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Scouts Train to Fight Terrorists, and More
Obviously this headline is satirical. Right? Truth is, it’s from a recebt New York Times article. The headline leads into an article that examines the Boy Scout-affiliated Explorer Program, which is “…training thousands of young people in skills used to confront terrorism, illegal immigration and escalating border violence.”
Boy Scouts fighting terrorists. Who ever thought we’d come to this? Well, I did. About three years ago I wrote a bit of satire for my blog That’s Going to Far! which ridiculed this disquieting possibility. Now it has come to pass.
The great Washington Post columnist Art Buchwald once said, “You can’t make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you’re doing is recording it.”
Northern exposure: Bush to call up the Scouts
WASHINGTON D.C. — Just days after announcing his intention to station National Guard troops along the U.S. border with Mexico, President Bush made an unexpected statement today concerning the Canadian border.
“It is true that our most immediate national security need is to secure our southern border. However, we cannot ignore the risks posed by a three thousand mile-long, largely unsecured border to our north. While our attention is diverted to the southern states, thousands of Al-Qaeda terrorists could be quietly slipping into America disguised in moose or squirrel costumes, forming sleeper cells in unsuspecting towns like International Falls or Fargo. The threat is real, and must be met.”
Today, I am calling up our brave young Americans in Boy Scout, Girl Scout and Cub Scout troops all along the northern tier of states, from Washington to Maine. Scout units will be stationed along the Canadian border at designated intervals for four-week rotations. The Scouts will be issued BB guns, slingshots and Swiss Army Knives with which they will secure our borders and allow Americans to sleep easy in their beds.”
Some of you may ask, ‘Is sending a nine-year old child out into the Northern woods with little more than Ritalin, a dull knife and a backpack full of Snickers bars a good idea?’” I say, give our children more credit. Sure they’ll miss their TVs and their mommies, but they know what it means to wear a uniform and that sacrifices are necessary in the war on terror. “
The first Scout units will be in position shortly after the end of school in June. Scout Masters will receive field promotions to full colonel and receive all respective benefits. All scouts will be given photocopies of known Al-Qaeda operatives, and they will be issued shoot-to-kill or really-really-hurt-bad orders.”
My fellow Americans, I know what it means to serve one’s country in uniform and the sacrifices that are required. I spent countless days away from home and family in strange nightclubs and at parties where I didn’t know a soul. It’s true. But America’s young people today understand that freedom isn’t free, and that everyone must do their part in the war on terror. All I can say is God bless them, and God bless you.”
Boy Scouts fighting terrorists. Who ever thought we’d come to this? Well, I did. About three years ago I wrote a bit of satire for my blog That’s Going to Far! which ridiculed this disquieting possibility. Now it has come to pass.
The great Washington Post columnist Art Buchwald once said, “You can’t make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you’re doing is recording it.”
Northern exposure: Bush to call up the Scouts
WASHINGTON D.C. — Just days after announcing his intention to station National Guard troops along the U.S. border with Mexico, President Bush made an unexpected statement today concerning the Canadian border.
“It is true that our most immediate national security need is to secure our southern border. However, we cannot ignore the risks posed by a three thousand mile-long, largely unsecured border to our north. While our attention is diverted to the southern states, thousands of Al-Qaeda terrorists could be quietly slipping into America disguised in moose or squirrel costumes, forming sleeper cells in unsuspecting towns like International Falls or Fargo. The threat is real, and must be met.”
Today, I am calling up our brave young Americans in Boy Scout, Girl Scout and Cub Scout troops all along the northern tier of states, from Washington to Maine. Scout units will be stationed along the Canadian border at designated intervals for four-week rotations. The Scouts will be issued BB guns, slingshots and Swiss Army Knives with which they will secure our borders and allow Americans to sleep easy in their beds.”
Some of you may ask, ‘Is sending a nine-year old child out into the Northern woods with little more than Ritalin, a dull knife and a backpack full of Snickers bars a good idea?’” I say, give our children more credit. Sure they’ll miss their TVs and their mommies, but they know what it means to wear a uniform and that sacrifices are necessary in the war on terror. “
The first Scout units will be in position shortly after the end of school in June. Scout Masters will receive field promotions to full colonel and receive all respective benefits. All scouts will be given photocopies of known Al-Qaeda operatives, and they will be issued shoot-to-kill or really-really-hurt-bad orders.”
My fellow Americans, I know what it means to serve one’s country in uniform and the sacrifices that are required. I spent countless days away from home and family in strange nightclubs and at parties where I didn’t know a soul. It’s true. But America’s young people today understand that freedom isn’t free, and that everyone must do their part in the war on terror. All I can say is God bless them, and God bless you.”
Friday, May 08, 2009
Norm Coleman and the tragedy of hubris
The year was 1996, the early morning hours of a soul-deadening, frigid winter’s night. Mayor of St. Paul Norm Coleman, wearing his favorite smoking jacket and fez, sat brooding in an overstuffed chair near a dying fire, staring into a glass of bitterness. His one-time friends in the DFL had turned against him. Criticized him. Booed him at events.
Fools. Didn’t they know he had a destiny to fulfill? Couldn’t they visualize him delivering a speech on the floor of the Senate so powerful it would disrupt the time-space continuum? Didn’t they know that one day he would command generals and ambassadors and quivering foreign leaders to carry out his visionary policies as he paced to and fro in the Oval Office? “Apparently not,” he said aloud, startling a cat sleeping at his feet.
As he stirred the embers in his Meerschaum, a shadow emerged from the darkness sending icy chills down the mayor’s back. The cloaked figure spoke.
“Norm. I think you know why I am here,” it rattled.
“I know of no one who would present himself to me uninvited in the darkest hours of the morning, except….” Coleman shuddered.
“Yes. You do understand. Although I wouldn’t say I was ‘uninvited.’ You want to fulfill your destiny, and I want to help you do that by striking a bargain with you.”
“A bargain? What sort of bargain, Sir?”
“I can help you realize your dreams of political power…for a price.”
“And you are a fiend,” said Coleman, turning away from the specter in fear.
“Success. Power. All can be yours. The political winds are blowing strongly to the right, My Friend, and you must change allegiances to capitalize on this event. Switch parties, Norm. Give your soul to me, and you will achieve that which you so desire.”
“My soul? Now?”
“Not now. You have work to do. But there will come a day when we will consummate this bargain, and I will collect what you promise me.”
“When? When would that day be?”
“When the winds change again, Norm. If they ever do.”
Coleman stood and contemplated this vexing proposal. “The Democrats have rejected me, and they are weak and in disarray. Americans have always been conservative at heart, and I do not think that will change any time soon. Certainly not in my lifetime.”
“Then we have a deal?” hissed the shadow.
“We have a deal,” agreed Coleman. “I willingly put my future in the hands of the Republican Party. This cannot go wrong. But who, pray tell, are you?”
“I am known by many names, but you can call me, ‘Mr. Cheney.’ Until we meet again.” And with that, the phantom vanished back into the darkness beyond the last remnants of firelight.
Fools. Didn’t they know he had a destiny to fulfill? Couldn’t they visualize him delivering a speech on the floor of the Senate so powerful it would disrupt the time-space continuum? Didn’t they know that one day he would command generals and ambassadors and quivering foreign leaders to carry out his visionary policies as he paced to and fro in the Oval Office? “Apparently not,” he said aloud, startling a cat sleeping at his feet.
As he stirred the embers in his Meerschaum, a shadow emerged from the darkness sending icy chills down the mayor’s back. The cloaked figure spoke.
“Norm. I think you know why I am here,” it rattled.
“I know of no one who would present himself to me uninvited in the darkest hours of the morning, except….” Coleman shuddered.
“Yes. You do understand. Although I wouldn’t say I was ‘uninvited.’ You want to fulfill your destiny, and I want to help you do that by striking a bargain with you.”
“A bargain? What sort of bargain, Sir?”
“I can help you realize your dreams of political power…for a price.”
“And you are a fiend,” said Coleman, turning away from the specter in fear.
“Success. Power. All can be yours. The political winds are blowing strongly to the right, My Friend, and you must change allegiances to capitalize on this event. Switch parties, Norm. Give your soul to me, and you will achieve that which you so desire.”
“My soul? Now?”
“Not now. You have work to do. But there will come a day when we will consummate this bargain, and I will collect what you promise me.”
“When? When would that day be?”
“When the winds change again, Norm. If they ever do.”
Coleman stood and contemplated this vexing proposal. “The Democrats have rejected me, and they are weak and in disarray. Americans have always been conservative at heart, and I do not think that will change any time soon. Certainly not in my lifetime.”
“Then we have a deal?” hissed the shadow.
“We have a deal,” agreed Coleman. “I willingly put my future in the hands of the Republican Party. This cannot go wrong. But who, pray tell, are you?”
“I am known by many names, but you can call me, ‘Mr. Cheney.’ Until we meet again.” And with that, the phantom vanished back into the darkness beyond the last remnants of firelight.
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