 |
A picturesque home in the New England countryside. It is dark out. The neighborhood is quiet, the lawn is mowed, and 13 American flags are flying along the top of the roof, rustling in the windy chill of the early evening. Inside, all is also quiet. The living room has nary a spot of dust and the fine china sits proudly on the dining room table. The kitchen has all the latest appliances, though they seem to have never been used. The beautiful winding stairs with some sort of ornately wood-carved frou-frou design thingie on the railing suggest that this is the home of no ordinary everyday American, while the magnificently opulent master bedroom on the second floor settles the matter once and for all. What a spread. Just off the bedroom in the master bathroom, a woman stares into the mirror. She is trying on lipstick.
CRASH!!! The massive axe lands loudly on the bathroom door, cutting through it like a hot steaming knife through warm soft butter. Ann Romney shrieks with blood-curdling authenticity. Her fear was no less than frighteningly genuine.
CRACK!!! The axe comes down again, this time completely penetrating through the door like a hot seafood fork through a delicious Prince Edward Island mussel. Wood splinters in all directions. Ann screams again. There is nowhere for her to run! She’s trapped!
CRASH!! The axe swings violently through another section of door. The person behind the axe is trying to gouge open a larger space in the door. Ann screams a third time, this time sounding almost numb to the inevitable horror that awaits her on the other side.
Governor Mitt Romney: Heeeeeeeeeeere’s Romney!!! How much longer are you gonna be in the bathroom, honey? I’m hungry. When’s dinner?
Ann: Oh, it’s you. Good heavenly father, Mitt, you scared me! Dinner will be at 7 as always, Mr. Antsy-Pants. As you requested we’re having pork roast.
Mitt: Ugh! Fine! I’ll have crackers or something until then. Man oh man do I love pork!! It is hands down, without a doubt, far and away, my favorite type of food ever! Wait a minute, the pig wasn’t gay was it? Cuz I don’t eat gay pork.
Ann: Ooh good question sweetheart! You know I’m not sure. You know you can never be too safe. What shall we have instead?
Long pause.
Mitt: I don’t know.
Ann: What about a nice vegetable lasagna? Doesn’t that sound nice?
Long pause
Mitt: I don’t know.
Ann: Well, there must be something you want to eat tonight.
Mitt: I’ll get back to you.
Ann: Oh for goodness sake. Maybe we’ll just have some cheese tortellini. You love cheese tortellini, right?
Mitt: Mmmm boy!! Cheese tortellini!! You know something? Cheese tortellini is hands down, without a doubt, far and away, my favorite type of food ever!! Wait a minute, did you say cheese? The cow wasn’t gay was it?
CRASH!! A larger axe is swung with almost superhuman force, this time through the master bedroom door like an hors d’oeuvre knife through slightly warm, extremely expensive, soft French cheese. Ann resumes screaming. She fears the unknown!! What could be stalking them at this hour!!?!?! Why does it torment them so!?!?
Mitt: Quick! Burn the last ten years of our tax returns!
CRACK!! The center of the door shatters, exposing a gaping hole in it the size of the Romney Budget Plan. There is no escaping the terror that’s coming for them!!
Ann: We’re trapped honey!! What do we do!!
Long pause
Mitt: I don’t know.
Ann rolls her eyes and grabs a hairbrush to prepare for a mighty battle with the unknown beast. Mitt stands behind his wife as she steps out of the bathroom and turns toward the master bedroom door.
Mitt: I’m behind you 100 percent, honey!
Suddenly, from the gaping hole in the door appears a young, fetching Republican with chiseled features and a jawline you could set your watch to. His boyish looks belie the innate wisdom, experience, and soulfullness that lies underneath.
Paul Ryan: Hey you two!! I was just on my way to a homeless shelter with a film crew to, you know, do whatever it is they do there. Thought I’d stop by and see how y’all are holding up in this little storm we got going on here. Frankenstorm!! Scary!! Not exactly sure why they named it Frank. I thought it was Sandy, but you know that’s cool. Whatever. I’m hip.
Mitt: Paul, you scared the bejeepers outta us!! We thought you were one of those crazy middle class folk who drone on and on about a fair shot and talk in imaginary numbers, like “200,000 or less”. Honestly, like numbers like that even exist, am I right people?
CRACK!! Yet another axe comes crashing down on the Romney household, this time through the front door like a dessert fork piercing through a light and fluffy, gold-speckled chocolate souffle.
Ann: Oh, for goodness sakes. What now?
Mitt: This is so scary!! What are we gonna do? Everyone keeps coming for me!! What did I ever do to anyone?!?! Well, you know, besides minorities, homosexuals, students, and poor people. You know, that 47% of the population that doesn’t do anything and just mooches off Uncle Sam. Get a job, hippie!
CRASH!! The axe comes down again. Any second now the horror outside will come for them!
Mitt: I am so scared right now!! Hold me Paul…..I mean Ann!
Ann: Well…isn’t that what we wanted for America, honey? For everyone to be afraid? Isn’t that why we want to make our military even more unnecessarily stronger than it already is? Isn’t that why we talk about the threat to our traditional, archaic values that may or may not have ever existed in America? Isn’t that why we all think that giving everyone a fair shot is one step closer to socialism, even though socialism is still 500 steps away?
Mitt: Hey wait a sec, honey. You’re right!! It’s all about fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the new and improved. Fear of anything different than us!! Yeah!! I shouldn’t be afraid of whatever’s out there. Whatever’s out there should be afraid of me!!
Paul: Yeah, wicked awesome!! Rage on, boss!!
Mitt runs downstairs to the front door, leaving Paul and Ann behind in a cloud of his awesomeness with himself. Poking through the hole in the door is a big yellow birdbeak. With steady hand and blind confidence, Mitt opens the half destroyed door. The big birdbeak slowly slides from the door and Mitt peers into the unknown Big Bird stands in front of him, a towering mass of yellow feathers, holding an axe and staring at him. Well…sort of staring at him (Big Bird can’t really stare. His eyeballs just kind of point in your general direction). Behind Big Bird stands a sea of people from all walks of life. Black, White, Hispanic, Gay, Straight, Rich, Poor, Young and Old alike. Many of them are holding torches, you know, cuz it’s dark out.
Big Bird: Hiiiiii. We live across the street, and we were wondering if we could borrow a cup of sugar? We’re making a cake!
Mitt: I’m so sorry. I don’t give handouts. But have a great day, sir. Have a great day everyone!!! Oh, and for those of you planning to vote, don’t forget to bring 3 forms of valid photo ID! Thanks so much bye bye.
Big Bird: But….
Mitt closes the door as politely as he can. Ann calls from upstairs.
Ann: Who was it honey?!
Mitt: Oh, just a mob of homeless vagrants looking for yet another free lunch! Don’t worry though, honey, I took care of it! So, what about dinner!! What are we having? Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cuz I’ll tell you nothing is better to me than a good ol’ fashioned PB and J!!
Paul: Awesome! I love PB and J!
The end.
