Politics in America 13: The Meeting of the Titans

Big Al Fresco had his work cut out for him. How was he going to convince America to vote for a pig farmer from Weazel Sneeze? Of course, he had an answer for that. Lie. He had done it before. He would do it again. So why not now?

There was no way he was about to let the Do Evies have another term. Big Guy or no Big Guy, there was no way Little Twerp was going to sneak his butt into the White House. He would be a disaster. It was Big Al Fresco’s constitutional duty to lie and save the Republic from a fate worse than death. If he had to do a some bare-face lying, he would.

He met the Mrs. at the train station. He sized her up and decided that this was going to make one heck of an excellent First Lady. One little looksee convinced him that she had the goods.

Standing next to the nominee, eyes would immediately move to Betty Sue. As they used to say in the South, she was comely. In other words, she was very pleasing to the eye. The women would love her because she was prim and proper. The men would love her because she had just a dash of sex appeal but not too much. Too much would have made her a star in Hollywood but not in politics.

Then there was that baseball bat she carried. That showed that she could be as tough as nails if she had to be. Yes, it was obvious she had the kind of petticoat gumption a First Lady needed.

On top of all that, Big Al took an immediate liking to her. He walked over and said, “How’d do, ma’am.”

“Don’t how’d do me,” Betty Sue came back with. “Where is that sumbitch of a husband of mine.” It was obvious she was ready to swing that bat and hit a homerun.

Now no one really knows what Big Al said to Betty Sue Pudding Sneeze. It must have taken a heap of convincing. But he finally pulled her around to the idea that her husband would make a good president. Even a great one. Depending on events. If he could do a halfway good job of marrying a good lady like Betty Sue, he must have the goods.

She smiled. “Why y’all flatter me so, Sir.”

“No flattery, Ma’am. No flattery at all. You’re just what America needs in a First Lady.”

Next Week The Big Re-do