by FRANCIS GRECOROMACOLLUDEN, Alternate Reality News Service National Politics Writer
Reduhblicans are immune to irony.
At a campaign-style (like Cajun-style, but with more of a burning aftertaste), President Ronald McDruhitmumpf said “The lying, stinking no goodnik Dumboprats! Everybody knows – even Leonard Canadiohen knows – so, I mean, everybody knows. Everybody. Everybody knows…sorry, I lost my train of – oh, yeah. Everybody knows that the Dumboprats are acting like a mob. Not a mop. Not a bepob. Definitely not a molybdenum – which is science, so it probably isn’t even a real thing. Trust me. No. The Dumboprats rampage on the streets of our towns and cities, smashing storefront windows, looting them of stray toasters and random dingoes, overturning cars and spray painting flowers and peace signs on their undercarriages – what’s up with that? They’re a mob, people. Not people – a mob. Mob, I tell you. And, what do we do with mobs?”
The mob at the rally sang a lusty chorus of “Three Little Maids From School.” It was quite the – okay, no. While that would have been entertaining in a grade school theatre production kind of way, what they actually responded with was a lusty chorus of “Hang ’em high! Hang ’em high! Hang ’em high!” It was…almost hypnotic. “Hang ’em high! Hang ’em high! Hang ’em high!” So seductive. Hang ’em high! Hang ’em – no! Must…not…give…in! Hang ’em high! Hang ’em – hang ’em – pressure too great! Resistance is fu –
“Let me tell you about Little Bretty Kavanaugheylno, a boy with a dream of one day being able to dictate to women what they can and cannot do with their bodies, and the Dumbopratic mob – yes, I went there! – the Dumbopratic mob that tried to keep him from achieving it!” President McDruhitmumpf continued.
And, just like that, the spell was broken.
A scuffle broke out near the stage where President McDruhitmumpf was speaking. Supporter Givenchy Parameniclete punched a journalist. But, the joke was on him: it wasn’t a journalist, it was a Foxindehenhaus News human personality simulation.
“You’ll pay for my lawyer’s fees, right?” Parameniclete shouted as he was led away by security. “You said you would pay the lawyer’s fees of anybody who roughed up a fake news journalist on your behalf!”
President McDruhitmumpf smiled benignly and quietly replied, “Thank you for your support. Thank you.”
“A mob?” Dumbopratic Senate Minority Leader Chuckie Schumaihargowmer quietly defended his party’s good…ish name. “That’s an interesting accusation. I will admit that sometimes, when I’m passing a pop-up Dizznizzfizzlizzey store, I do feel a little mobbish. I do feel like breaking the store window and taking the Mickey out and shouting hurtful things about The Man. Like, ‘Are you The Man or The Mouse‽’ Oh, snap, as the kids say. But, would I say this is true of Dumboprats as a whole? I can’t see into the souls of every single member of the -“
“This is a defence‽” shouted token smart person Amy Sheshutshotshitbam. “My six month-old cousin defends himself better, and he only knows three words! Why are the Dumboprats so eager to loot themselves in the foot?”
“I don’t know,” churtled (chuckled + turtled) Senate Majority Leader Mitch Wichconnelliswich. “But isn’t it wonderful?”
“It’s obvious that the Reduhblicans, led by the President, are engaging in some wicked rear projection,” token smart person Sheshutshotshitbam continued after a soothing hour in a sauna. Hang ’em high! Hang ’em high! Hang – damn, that’s catchy! “And, I’m not talking about the cinematic technique where moving images are projected onto the back of screen to give the illusion of a background because the studio is too cheap to shoot on location. Nor am I talking about the dominatrix technique of whipping somebody’s backside hard enough to raise welts – although I can understand how easy it would be to make that mistake. No, I’m talking about the psychological technique of taking your own bad behavior and claiming it is coming out of the butt of the person trying to call you on it.”
“And, what about token smart people?” President McDruhitmumpf went on. “There’s one in every idiotocracy, isn’t there?” They spoil the fun for everybody else, don’t they? Sure. Everybody thinks so. This Amy…what’s her last name, again? Sheshotazade? Shebananegans? She – why are the names of native people so difficult to remember? Well, this Amy…hontas, she’s the real mob, here, people. She’s the mobbiest mobber who ever mobbed!”
“I hate being proven right so…retroactively!” token smart person Sheshutshotshitbam muttered. Hang ’em high! Hang ’em high! Hang – “Cut it out!” token smart person Sheshutshotshitbam interjected. “The phrase is not that hypnotic!”
And, just like that, the spell was broken. Hopefully for good.