Be Afraid…

-Deep in the Heart of the Elite Intellectual Right-

“Crap,” came the sound of a flat gravelly voice not unlike that of Dick Cheney’s.

“What is it, Dick?” asked a profusely sweating pudgy man that sat at the dimly lit desk.

“He’s coming back.”

A man in full beard carrying an attache case popped in, his eyes bulging with fear. “Who?”

“Him.”

The three men sat in silence.

“Are you sure?” the pudgy man asked, wiping the runnels of sweat from his shiny bald head.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Damn it!”

“Oh what are you worried about Grover? You’re not the one he peed on,” whined the pudgy man, and the man in the beard winced.

“I know, but you still stink from it. Don’t you ever bathe Karl?”

Dick cut in with his gravelly voice, “I think we have more important things to worry about right now… We have to get ready.”

-Virginia Beach, Virginia-

“Did you feel that?” Mrs. M asked, a look of concern haunting her face.

“Yup.”

“What do you think that was?” she asked as she picked up their newborn daughter.

“That was The Right, shitting themselves.”

“What? How do you know? What’s going…” She paused, a look of realization dawning over her. “You’re going back aren’t you?”

Mr. M didn’t even look away from his laptop as he nodded.

“Why?”

“I have to honey. I have to.”

“But…”

“Look, I thought things might get better in my absence. We got a Democratic Governor in the Virginian Capitol. Jackie Boy was singing down the house. Tom Delay’s rap sheet was larger than a Bush tax cut for the wealthy and was growing by the second… I thought we were good, but we’re not. Conservatives are stil dumb, people are still getting away with crap, and Bush hasn’t been impeached. The situation warrants it honey.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed. Did you know that a columnist in the New York Post was pondering why on Earth Bush’s numbers are so low?”

“No, I didn’t, I thought that was obvious.”

“Well not to him. He made the point that we were enjoying a ‘bullish’ economy, and that we were turning the corner in Iraq. He lauded the idea that we were expecting to close the Dow Jones at a record high, and through all of this he couldn’t understand why the president was getting dissed at record lows in the polls.”

“Well he makes good points, I guess.”

“Come on Honey Bunny, think about it for a second, will ya? Let’s start with the economy and this Dow Jones malarchi. Okay, when Americans are doing well, then they care about the strength of the US economy overall. It’s because they can afford to, it just makes sense. But that’s not the situation we have here. It’s hard for average Americans to care about how well Wall Street is doing when they are selling off their first born just to buy enough gas to make it to work every day. Plus, to think that the DJ is an overall health indicator on the economy is a little misleading. It’s like saying just because you have a star player on your team, you’re a good team. That’s not true. Sure, our rich people are getting richer, which may put up the illusion that everything is super terrific, but that doesn’t take into account the widening gap between the rich and the poor…”

“I mean, look at congress, right now they are talking about extending another 70 billion dollars in tax cuts for the wealthy.”

“And then when we look at Iraq, well it’s just silly really. We’ve turned so many corners that we’re making a circle. And all of a sudden now is the time to draw down troops. No, pay no mind to the fact that midterm elections are just months away.”

“No, on one side, Bush has been trying to campaign his way through this entire war, and now when it looks like the GOP are no longer going to be able to patriotize their way through another set of elections, it’s all about abandoning ship.”

“Honey…”

“There’s just too much. When Bush spoke about the oil compainies and the extreme gas prices, instead of trying to live up to the moniker of “era of responsibility,” and tried to hold them accountable, he pretty much just encouraged them to look for alternative fuels. That’s like asking Daughter M number one not to eat the chocolate eggs from Easter after we put them on her plate.”

“But, M, do you really think you’re ready?”

Mr. M sat there for a moment, a flurry of thoughts running through his mind. Finally, in a quiet voice, he said, “I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’ll have to be.”

“I’ll have to be…”

disclaimer: I never peed on Rove

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