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I’ve been spending so much time on the road lately, working with all the Presidential campaigns, that I finally put in a purchase order for a deluxe RV. It arrived Monday, and has a widescreen tv, boiling sulphur hot tub, and a real coal fireplace. As an added bonus, it only gets two and a half miles a gallon. I love it! I was parked in a Wal*Mart RV park in Iowa setting up my new mobile office when Mitt Romney barged through the door. He had a wild look in his eye. “What the fudge are you doing?” he demanded angrily. “The Dark Lord’s work on Earth, same as you,” I replied with a grin. “Why?” “Don’t bring Cheney into it!” Mitt growled. “You know what I mean. You’ve been up to no good! I’ve spent months trying to solidify my Right-Wingnut Base by brown-nosing Pat Robertson, and now he’s gone and endorsed that freak Rudy Guiliani!” Well, yes, of course I knew that was what he was talking about. I just like yanking Mitt’s chain. If you do it hard enough his ears turn the most amazing shade of crimson. “Have a seat, Mitt,” I said sternly. You can only let these folks go so far, after all, before you remind them to whom they’re speaking. Mitt sat. “Pat endorsed Rudy,” I said. “You have a problem with that?” “It’s insane!” Mitt exclaimed. “Rudy’s an abortion-rights, gay-supporting traitor to the Conservative Cause.” I glanced through my paperwork. “Not to put too fine a point on it, Mitt, but a few years ago when you were running for Governor of Massachusetts, so were you.” Mitt looked defensive. “Yeah, well I changed my mind when I decided to run for President,” “Maybe Pat likes folks who can keep their mind made up,” I suggested unhelpfully. “It makes no sense,” Mitt retorted mournfully, shaking his head. “Pat Robertson declared that the September 11th attacks were God’s punishment against America for supporting abortion and gay rights, and he thinks that the ‘activist judges’ who rule in favor of them are a greater threat to America than Islamic terrorists. He said God will punish us with earthquakes for teaching Evolution, and when the Disney folks decided to market to gays he told them God was going to throw hurricanes and meteors at them!” “I’m sure there’s a point here somewhere?” Mitt glowered at me. “I have a contract!” he growled. “I was promised the Presidency! I’ll sue!” “You’re going to sue Satan?” I laughed. “Good luck finding a lawyer whose not already on our side.” I let him think about that for a moment, and then continued. “Lots of candidates signed contracts with us, Mitt. There’s no favoritism involved. You’re all equal in The Evil One’s eyes.” “No we’re not, you just like Rudy better!” Mitt growled. “You like him better because he wants to torture people and he’ll nuke Iran just as soon as he gets his finger on The Button!” “Oh c’mon, Mitt,” I laughed. “You’re in favor of torturing people and nuking Iran just as much as Rudy is.” “Darn right, I am!” “So, there’s no favoritism involved on our end. I can assure you, Mitt, Satan smiles just as broadly on your campaign as it does on Rudy’s.” Both of Mitt’s faces fell. “You mean there’s nothing you can do?” I shook my head. “I’m just here to help you all equally,” I said with a grin. “It’s not fair,” Mitt whined as he got up to leave. I could hear him muttering something about “contracts” and “lawsuit” to himself as he walked back to his campaign SUV. I sighed. Politicians sign contracts with the Devil and then are surprised when they get screwed over? Cry me a river. I heard a soft knock at the door. I was pretty sure I knew who it was. “C’mon in, Pat,” I called. “Well, well, you’ve been a busy bee, haven’t you?” Pat Robertson had the grace to smile softly as he sat down. I like Pat. We’ve always worked well together, and he’s one of my favorites amongst Satan’s minions. |
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