Known to one and all as the Do Evies, the Do Everything Party had reigned the last sixteen years. They had bought up Congress. They had stacked the Court with a stack of blueberry pancakes with hot butter and maple syrup. So when the Do Naughties showed up at the Court, The Supremes kept ruling with a you-can’t-hurry-love decree.
And The Big Guy had delivered on his presidential campaign promise. There would be a chicken in every home in America. “Eat Right, Eat Chicken” had been his campaign. He had not only delivered on that promise. He had made sure every household had two chickens. The problem was they were live chickens. Two live chickens were delivered to every household once a year. Folks got their chickens but they had to supply the chicken feed. It ended up that a lot of homes adopted the cluckers as pets. It’s a real heartbreakers when a child appears on the local news crying, “They killed Alice.” Of course, Alice was the child’s pet chicken. It was enough to turn the American people vegetarian. And the beef folks were not happy about that.
So it was time for the Do Evies to get their buttocks kicked out of office but good. After all, there is only so much people will take. There was no way the American people were going to elect Little Twerp, the Vice President, for President. He was like a pimple on the buttocks. On top of everything else, there was the dog issue. Yes, Little Twerp had a dog. Well, let’s just say he had a dog. He went out hunting with the dog. He had been partial to hunting since he was knee high to a grasshopper. Unfortunately an unfortunate happened. He shot the dog the way Dick Cheney shot his lawyer. The lawyer recovered, the dog did not. Let’s just say that if you are a dog or a lawyer you do not want to go hunting with the Vice President. At least, not that little twerp of a Vice President.
There was such an outcry over the dog. There was such mourning and gnashing of teeth, Congress shut down the government. The government ended up burying Spot in Arlington National Cemetery.
All this is to say that Little Twerp should not have gotten the Do Evies nomination for President. But he had the goodies on everybody. As long as he kept them in cold storage, the Do Evies could continue to do what they had been doing for all those years. Hanging on to the chicken concession. It was worth billions.
As you can see there was no way the Do Naughties were going to lose the election. Unless they screwed it up. Fortunately the Party Elders had heard of Murphy’s Law. You know the one that goes anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Or stuff happens. And it happens a lot.
Next Wednesday, Chapter 8: What’s a convention without a convention?