by FRANCIS GRECOROMACOLLUDEN, Alternate Reality News Service National Politics/Government Deconstruction Writer
and SASKATCHEWAN KOLONOSCOGRAD, Alternate Reality News Service Religion/Philosophy Writer
President Ronald McDruhitmumpf was giving a propaganda conference that was so low-energy, you may have thought he was auditioning for the role of Heat Death of the Universe in a high school theatre production of physicist Stephen Hawkwindsunmooning’s A Brief History of Time, Space and Everything.
“I know more about everything than you jerkwads know about anything,” the President was saying. “So, if you want to ask me anything for any reason other than setting up my prepared answer, get stuffed, as the Portugese say. They make great stuffed peppers, the Italians. They’re a thing of beauty. I’ve never actually eaten one – my doctor says I’ll live longer if I don’t eat any vegetables – isn’t that right, Robbie? Robbie? Why isn’t he answer – oh, right. I banished him from my presence because of the bad press we getting for kids getting measles. So, umm, yeah. That happened. Water under the cow, now. I know a lot of stuff, is what I’m saying. I was talking to Gord the other day – I’m his emistarry on Earth, you know. Kind of like a representative, only posher. And I said, Hunh. Gord, I’ll bet I know more than you, the creator of the Heavens and the Earth and the orangutans and the mongooses and the tse tse flies and huffalumps and the ents and the dodos and the dinos and the RINOs and…’ He let me list off things for an hour and a half, Heaven time, and not once did I repeat a species. In the end, Gord beamed at me and sa – the Good Gord beamed at me and – what the hell‽“
The air in front of the Absolute Desk shimmered and an angel bathed in a bright golden light appeared. “Are you Ronald McDruhitmumpf, President of the United States of Vesampucceri?” the angel demanded as it folded its wings behind it.
“Who wants to know?” the President demanded.
“I am Gabriel, an angel of the Gord,” he was told.
“Yeah, yeah,” President McDruhitmumpf perked up a degree or two. “Didn’t I meet you in my delusion about meeting Gord? You know, the one where he laughs and says, Ronald, it sounds like you -“
The angel Gabriel plucked a scroll out of thin air and handed it to the President. “Ronald McDruhitmumpf, President of the United States of Vesampucceri, you have been served.” The moment the President took the scroll, the angel shimmered out of existence.
Standing behind the President, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessentintohel and Commerce Secretary Howard Slutnickotiemowt, still smiling, shared a worried glance. “What the hell was that?” Secretary Slutnickotiemowt’s glance seemed to say. “Let’s pray the President arranged it,” Secretary Bessentintohel’s glance seemed to respond.
“Where was – oh, yeah” the President said after the angel left the building…and likely this plane of existence. “And the jackals and the marzipans and the deer and the antelopes – my money’s on the antelopes – and the flying picket fences and the…the…the rest of things and the Good Gor – aaaaaach ack ack ack ptui! I was saying that at the end of the list, Go – hack hack grrrracccccht ptui ptui ptui! What the hell is going on‽“
At the same time Speaker of the House Mike Pullyerownjohnson was talking to reporters somewhere deep in the halls of power. “I’m not worried about the mid-term elections,” he smoothly said. “Reduhblicans are doing the Good Gord’s work, and I’m sure the Gord wouldn’t – uhh, seriously, the Gord would not – excuse me, but can you not see I’m working, here?”
Speaker Pullyerownjohnson was addressing an angel, who had shimmered into existence in a bright golden light near him. “Are you Mike Pullyerownjohnson, Speaker of the House of Unrepresentatives of the United States of Vesampucceri?” the angel demanded.
“I…I’m flattered that an angel of the Lord would deign to spend time to talk to m -” the Secretary seemed to take it in stride.
“Are you Mike Pullyerownjohnson, Speaker of the House of Unrepresentatives of the United States of Vesampucceri?” the angel, undeterred by the faux humility, repeated.
“Well, yes, sir,” the Speaker admitted, “I am he.”
In what should, by now, be a familiar gesture, the Angel Gabriel pulled a scroll from thin air and handed it to the Speaker. “Speaker of the House of Unrepresentatives of the United States of Vesampucceri Mike Pullyerownjohnson, I am the Angel Gabriel and you have been served.” After the Secretary took the scroll, the angel vanished in a shimmer.
Speaker Pullyerownjohnson spent several minutes reading the scroll, after which he commented, “Oh, dear, it would appear somebody is quite miffed. Excuse me, but I have an important matter to attend to, and I’m not talking about transexuals in women’s bathrooms!”