“Find the campaign workers and give each one a glass of whiskey,” Betty Sue Pudding instructed Big Al Fresco. “That will get them through the day. And do it fast. We don’t have time to waste.” When it all started, she had hated this run of P F’s for the Presidency of the United States of America. Lately she had been enjoying the attention she was getting a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot.
“Damn you, Betty Sue,” Big Al cursed like he never cursed before.
“Save your damn-yous for late. We have work to do. So roll up your sleeves and get to it.”
Big Al knew Betty Sue was right. It was not a time to cry over spilt milk. It was spilt and that was all there was to it. He hung up the phone and headed for the nearest liquor store. On his way, he started making calls as his driver sped toward the “Whiskey for everyone” Liquor Store.
By noon, all the campaign offices across the U. S. of A. were buzzing with activity. If a worker started hurting, he grabbed the nearest whiskey bottle and took a snort. Little did anyone know what Betty Sue knew. That the cure was worse than the disease. But she also knew they had to get through the Election Day intact. Let tomorrow take care of itself. That was when all hell would break loose with the campaign workers’ heads. They were about to have the worst hangover anybody had ever seen. But that would come the next day. They had to get through this day with some dignity.
Rush, rush, rush. That was the order of the day as campaign workers made phone calls, knocked on doors, gave out five dollar bills to overcome the Resistance.
Betty Sue and Big Al checked the news to see who had won the Dixville Notch, New Hampshire vote. Little Twerp had won by one vote. With that, they realized that it was going to be a long night ahead. They buckled themselves and kept at working the phones and getting out the vote and keeping their fingers crossed.
In the Great Scheme of Things, you ain’t a darn thing you can do to change fate. All you can do is your best when you end up with pie in your face. But it ain’t purty. That was the thought that kept running through Betty Sue’s head. She got on the phone and told P F to get out and shake a lot of hands.
If they were going out on a sad note, at least they’d go out with some dignity. When all was said and done, there was only one thing to do. And that’s exactly what Betty Sue Pudding did.
You’ve heard the old saying, “When life hands you a lemon, make lemonade.” Instead of lemonade, Betty Sue hurried back to her house to make muffins. There was still time to save the election and she was going to do all she could. She was going to bake them finger-licking muffins and send them out to Little Twerp’s campaign. She had time. It was only one in the afternoon.
Fifteen minutes later, she had a big batch of muffins. Corn Cob Jones showed up and loaded the muffins into the Weazel Sneeze pickup truck for delivery. Within an hour there was UPS and FedEx trucks backed up at Betty Sue’s kitchen. She’d make those Little Twerp Twerpettes happy campers.
She sent out them muffins near and far to the Little Twerp campaign offices. Before you know it, the workers at Little Twerp Central were singing, “One Toke Over the Line”. They were having one hell of a party, getting stoned out of their ever-loving gourds. And they were not doing a lick of campaigning. Hallelujah!
The question for Betty Sue: Was it enough to change the direction of the election?
Next Week Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina