When the convention looked around for a candidate for Vice President, they didn’t have to go far. Maynard Gee was their man. For a man who did not want to work, Vice President was the perfect job. Since P F was in great shape healthwise, Maynard Gee wanted to be Vice President. He’d wanted the job for a long time. Other politicians hear their name mentioned for the job and they run like hell. It’s no decent job for a grownup. It’s like being the Prince of Wales. You’re waiting for Mommy to die. Mommy never dies.
When Maynard Gee was nominated, he thought he’d just about died and gone to heaven. After all, he worked at his not working. But he loved speechifying. He always said just the right thing. And it was always memorable. As he ended his fifteen second speech at the podium, he said the memorable words that people would remember for generations, “We promise America nothing. Even less than nothing we will deliver.”
P F Sneeze, the Presidential Nominee for the Do Naughties, joined his running mate on the stage. They raised their hands in victory. It was the ticket that would make history.
Sometime later, he called home to give B S the news.
“You went and did what?” B S Pudding said. “They want you for president?”
She put the phone down and about laughed herself silly and all the way to Snort Holler. She couldn’t believe it. A pig farmer for President? And not just any pig farmer. A pig farmer from Weazel Sneeze. And not just any pig farmer from Weazel Sneeze. A pig farmer named P F Sneeze. Who in his ever-loving right mind?
P F said the right thang to convince his wife. “You get to buy a new dress. And a new pair of shoes.”
“You do. On top of that, you will be my campaign manager. What do you think of that?”
“Why would I want to go and do that?”
“Because you can make sure I loose this thang. I gotta loose. And you’re the smart one in the family. I don’t know what came over me. How did I get myself in such a heap of trouble? I got folks around me who have folks around them telling me that I am the greatest thing since peanut butter. I just want to get back to the farm and see y’all and all the little piggies. Here it’s like the time Big Bad Wolf blew the three little pigs’houses down.”
“I don’t want to be First Lady,” B S Pudding said what all the wives say to their ambitious politician husbands.
“And we can’t lose by just a little bit,” P F said. “I want to lose big time. As bad as McGovern.”
“Who?” B S asked.
“See what I mean. Nobody remembers him. I want to be that guy. Then they will leave me alone forever.”
“I’ll do it. I will be your campaign manager. And you can ignore me just like you always do, Hon.”
P F Sneeze hung up the phone, happier than a hog in a pen-ful of slop. He would lose and he would lose big time. Little did he know B S Pudding had other plans.
Next Week Betty Sue Pudding doing her Betty Sue Thang