By Joel Schneier
It paused for a moment, only for a moment. And
then continued. "And so, my good friends, these problems which
I have just informed you of must be dealt with. And they must be dealt
with soon, for the good of the country. This is why we all must vote
YAY on Bill 2473. Our fellow countrymen will thank us, just as I thank
all of you, my good friends." With this it took a bow and along
with the bow came a deafening applause from the entire room.
"All those who are for Bill 2473 to become
a law, say YAY," said the moderator and not a moment after did
each one of the Senators jump to their feet, pump their fists in the
air and roar, YAY!
The Republicrat smiled with delight. It had
done it again.
Up in the spectator seats above the Senators'
heads sat two men. A writer and a butcher. "It is almost time,"
said the writer, "Soon it will become too powerful and become a
danger to our way of life."
The butcher nodded his head in agreement.
"We will wait two more days, and then make
our move. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
Down on the floor the Republicrat was making
its way through the crowd, shaking Senators' hands and shmoozing with
reporters. It kept smiling, even though it didn't look like it. Its
disgusting, distorted, slop of a face and body was always impossible
to describe. Yet, we will attempt to make an attempt to describe the
Republicrat. Its face was made up of incongruent slimy scales which
lumped together some sort of moldy filth. The only recognizable part
of its face were its two yellow eyes. Its body was quite obtuse and
would have random lumps and deformities throughout its back. Its right
arm was rather normally shaped, despite the scales, and had formed fingers
and palms. Yet, the left hand was a monstrosity with a bulbous forearm
and two stumps and the end which could be called fingers. Its legs
were that of an insects with furry, slimy patches, and claws of some
kind at the end of its feet. It was most ghastly. And it was a political
genius.
The Republicrat was created by an egotistical
member of the Republican Party who was attempting to create a political
genius who would be able to thrash the Democratic Party. Instead, the
result was much more powerful. The result was the Republicrat. A sleek
bipartisan political genius. It had the uncanny ability to create Bills
which neither party could oppose. And each Bill would be voted to become
a law with the same tally every time . . . 100-0.
Somehow, though, normal civilians could not stand
the sight of the Republicrat. It causes them to vomit. Yet, those
involved with politics are perfectly capable of withstanding its ghastliness,
and above all find it charming. And how it charmed the politicians.
Arriving home late after a long day, the Republicrat
sat down in its chair. It began to laugh. "I have fooled them
all!" it shouted with stern proudness.
The President sat in his Presidential
chair, holding his Presidential pen, eating his Presidential crackers.
"Get me the Republicrat," he ordered to his assistant, "And
make sure that it is a secret line."
You're doing a lot better than we had originally
hoped.
Hoped?
Ah, that's right. I'm sorry. You're doing a
lot better than we had originally known.
I am aware of that.
How much longer until they will be willing?
That depends on who you mean by "they."
"They" as in the public, or "they" as in the Legislative
Branch of the government?
Both.
Well, according to my exceptional knowledge .
. . Four days.
Excellent, excellent.
Indeed.
The writer turned on the old vacuum tube radio.
It buzzed. Then a voice came to ear. "In political news, the
Republicrat is going to propose another new Bill to the Senate today.
This Bill is extremely radical compared to the Republicrat's others.
This Bill is a proposal to decrease the number of Congressmen and Senators,
but the exact number is not yet known. Even though this Bill appears
extremely unconstitutional, most of the public and both houses trust
the Republicrat's expertise. In other news . . ."
The writer switched off the radio. He turned
to the butcher, "It's time."
The President poured the wine into the glass,
"Would you like some?" he asked turning slightly towards the
Republicrat.
"No thank you. I don't drink, remember?"
"Ah, yes. How silly of me," the President
finished pouring his drink, picked up the glass and walked back over
towards the Republicrat. "Well, here's to a new dynasty."
The two began to laugh. It was an out of control
laugh.
"And to think," said the Republicrat
controlling its laughter, "How many years has this nation wasted
its time with this alleged democracy?"
"Far too many."
"Yes. It's about time that the old era
came to a halt, and a new, brighter, bolder era begins. The people
will thank us when it's over."
"Indeed they will. That is, if there's
any of them left."
The two erupted in laughter once again. "A
two party system? Ha! What have these people been thinking for these
two-hundred years? Why has it been so hard for them to realize it's
a ONE party system. It has been that way ever since the beginning.
ONE party. The second party was the people themselves, yet they have
been far too dumb to realize it and use it for their own benefit!"
"Exactly! And it's too late now. They've
had their chance and they blew it. Now it's time for a new dynasty,
a new era."
"A NEW KING!" the two said together.
"And the most hilarious part of all,"
said the Republicrat, "Is that tomorrow those stupid, idiotic,
moronic, sorry excuses for politicians will vote to eradicate their
own branch of the government!"
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Their laughter carried
throughout the city.
"--That is funny," said a voice in
the darkness from the corner of the room. The Republicrat and the President
snapped to attention.
"WHO ARE YOU?" demanded the President,
"I order you, tell me your name!"
"It is of no importance," the writer
and the butcher emerged from the darkness, "For you will only know
it for a short time before meeting your death."
The Republicrat stood up, "Excuse me, but
what do you mean by that? Are you considering assassinating the President?
How pathetic!"
"Why is it pathetic?"
"Because you would have to surpass me first,"
said the Republicrat who suddenly lunged in the air towards the writer
and the butcher. As it was flying through the air towards its victims,
the butcher reached into his pocket and pulled out a large butcher's
knife. Just before the Republicrat was about to land upon the two,
the butcher thrusted the knife into the monster's neck. The Republicrat
came down onto the floor, screaming in pain. Gasping for life.
The President stared at the dying Republicrat
with his mouth ajar, "What have you done?"
"What should be done. You should feel lucky,
though. Since we've killed that, there's no need to kill you. Good
day." The writer and the butcher turned, walked out the door and
disappeared into the darkness. The President and the dying Republicrat
were left alone once again.
"Oh my god," said the President, "What
will I do?"
Before he could say anything else, the near dead
Republicrat lunged at the President. It grabbed him with both arms
and held him still with its massive strength. And then something began
to crawl out from the horrid mouth of the Republicrat. It was like
some type of baseball-size spore. It crawled out of the Republicrat's
thoat and into to the terrified mouth of the President. The spore disappeared
into the President, and then the Republicrat collapsed and remained
motionless.
The President was in shock when the transformation
began . . .
"And so, my good friends, with the signing
of this Bill a new era will begin. A new and brighter era filled with
hope and peace and prosperity and liberty and justice. This is the
beginning of the end for the old, and the beginning of the beginning
for the new. This is the NEW DYNASTY!"
Cheers roared and filled the room. The roaring
was deafening.
The Republicrat smiled with delight. It had
done it again. It had brainwashed the pathetic low-lives of the nation.
And now they were cheering for itself.
"LONG LIVE THE REPUBLICRAT! LONG LIVE THE
REPUBLICRAT!"
In a butcher store three blocks away, the CLOSED
sign remains hanging. The store is dark. In the back freezer there
are two bodies, stone cold. They are the bodies of the writer and the
butcher. There is a butcher knife stuck in each of their necks.
The cheering continues. It does not cease.
"LONG LIVE THE REPUBLICRAT! LONG LIVE THE
REPUBLICRAT!"
the end.
