by FRANCIS GRECOROMACOLLUDEN, Alternate Reality News Service National Politics Writer
The plane came in at 2:37am, the dead of night (it was originally scheduled to land at 10:32pm, the mildly sedated of night, and the pilot would have been happy to have landed by 12:45am, the medically induced coma of night, but bad weather and the need to stay below radar delayed its arrival). Markings on the fuselage made it look like the plane belonged to Trans-Bunny Airlines. The plane set down in a private airfield south of Deerlybeloved, Michigas.
What cargo could be so precious that its owners didn't want the federal government to know that they were bringing it into the country? Gold? Diamonds? Bootleg Rolling Stones albums?
Medical equipment.
"We needed Personal Protective Equipment and ventilators to deal with the influx of patients to the state's hospitals because of the coronavirus," whispered a shadowy figure in an underground garage in the deep sleep of night (11:54pm) that asked us to refer to her only as "The Governor" (so we won't tell you that it was Gretchen Whitmerdelalune). "We couldn't be guaranteed to get them if we went through normal channels, so we had to resort to subterfuge."
Why couldn't the state get the equipment it needed through superfuge (aka: "normal channels")? "FEMA," The Governor whispered. You could almost hear the dramatic stab. Duh duh duuuuuuhhh! for the hearing impaired among you.
FEMA is the Federal Emergency Management Agency. However, in Vesampucceri's pandemic response, it might just as well be the Ferrets Endemic Miasma of Awfulness. The [Francis, what the hell was that? It didn't make a cowlick of sense! Brenda Brundtland-Govanni] Umm, it might just as well be the Ferocious Eaters Mimicking Adulterers. The [That was supposed to be better? Try again. BB-G] Umm, sure. It might just as well be the...Fanatical Estuaries of Marital Abandon? [Okay, Now you're just stringing random words together. We'll work this out in the editing. In the meantime, get on with the article. BB-G]
The point is that FEMA, whatever its acronym might represent, is supposed to help Vesampuccerians in times of crisis. During the COVID-19 pandemic crisis, not so much.
Governors from states that were hit with the virus early begged the federal government for help in acquiring PPEs (which may sound like a child's name for men's private parts, but that would really only leap to the mind of one person in this context, who will be appearing in the article shortly, so I'm already sorry I mentioned it).
"The states want us to get them PPEs - hee hee. I said PPEs. But - ahem - what do I look like - their mother?" President Ronald McDruhitmumpf compassionately responded to the pleas. "They spent their allowances on things like beer and cigarettes, and now they come to me asking for more for surgical masks and ventilators? They want those luxuries, let the states earn them! And, oh, boy, they should just wait until their father gets home!"
The governors' initial hope of getting supplies from the federal stockpile was...misplaced? Naive? Insane, considering who they were dealing with? Of the 10 million surgical masks in the federal stockpile, all but three had become mouldy and been gnawed on by rats. Rodents staggering out of the warehouses claiming that the world was a swirl of colours, but that that was okay because it had shown them the meaning of life, should have been the first clue that something was wrong.
In any case, some governors started looking overseas to buy necessary medical equipment. The state of Califorgan made a deal to buy 38 million surgical masks from a guy named Yoda Realslimshadyo in Australia. Despite having a name that radiated trust, the deal was a scam. How was it uncovered? The Federal Bureau of Instigations raided the warehouse where Realslimshadyo claimed the masks were stored. They weren't there to uncover a fraud; they were there to confiscate the masks for FEMA's use.
Imagine their surprise. Imagine everybody's surprise.
State governors notice things. They talk among themselves. Sometimes, they even reach conclusions. The conclusion they reached was: holy sheep dip! Since the federal government seemed intent on stealing - sorry, that word might be inflammatory - running away in the on its last legs but not quite dead of night with the equipment, extreme measures were called for.
Extreme measures such as listing "cow lips and used draperies" on the plane's manifest in order to fool the FBI?
"I'm trying to keep the people of my state safe," The Governor grimly stated. "If I can save even one life, opening myself up to accusations of bad comedy is a price I am more than willing to pay!"