It's a cartoon so there'd be a miracle: Fred would get elected too. Nobody would really know what happened, but before they'd cut to a commercial we'd see a polling place where one Wooly Mammoth says to another, "I was hoping you could add." "YABBA DABBA DO!" Fred yells. "I'm gonna make Bedrock great again!"
Unfortunately, Fred is no Homo Sapiens. You know he'll go to a ball game or he'll get drunk and fall asleep and at the last minute he'll be like, "Oh shit! I forgot to hire anybody! What am I gonna do? [PAUSE] I know! I'll hire Barney as my Vice President. Betty can be Attorney General. Pebbles can be Secretary of Education, and Bamm-Bamm can be Secretary of Defense. Now that's a great cabinet!"
There's just two flaws with Fred's plan. First, you know, they're not the best people for the job. You're not going to get brilliance out of somebody who wears diapers and goes BAM BAM BAM! all day long, though who am I to criticize Jeff Sessions. And second, isn't it a little insulting to Wilma? Everybody Fred ever met is now in a position of power and has moved to Washington -- except for her. Luckily, she doesn't care. She's glad to get rid of the stupid oaf and enjoy spending his money. You know she's home alone trying on all her fancy new clothes, and she's got a sassy talking bird that she asks, "Does this stegosaurus fur make me look fat?"
After a few weeks, though, Fred gets sad. He looks out the window and sees angry people with picket signs that say things like, "GO BACK TO THE BRONZE AGE!", "I THOUGHT DODOS WERE EXTINCT!" and "I WISH YOUR PLEISTO HAD NEVER BEEN CENE!" He gathers his cabinet around the dinner table. "I'm feeling a little down," he says. "I'm feeling like maybe I'm not the best president Bedrock has ever seen. Why don't we go around the table and everybody say a short sentence or two about how I am?"
Betty and Barney say, "Fred, you're the greatest!" Pebbles spouts random baby-talk while Bamm-Bamm hits the ground with his club and the Great Wazoo turns all the protesters into Brontosaurus burgers.
In real life, though -- at Donald Trump's "Let's All Talk About How Great I Am" meeting -- the focus eventually turns to Reince Priebus. He isn't a relative so unlike the other incompetents he can be fired. I feel bad for him: my blood freezes when some omnipotent asshole announces that I have to say something about myself. "My name's Roman. I'm single, I'm a Virgo, and I was born in sunny California!" Eighty percent of the crowd will laugh to themselves and think, "What a dickwad!" while the other twenty percent go, "I just knew he was a Virgo."
Reince thinks quick. "We're sitting around a table and unexpectedly somebody's making me give a speech. What does that remind me of? [PAUSE] I've got it! GRACE! It's like when I slept over with Dadpappy and Maw-Maw and they made me talk to God before I could eat. I'll say a version of Grace!" He makes a few small changes as it runs through his head:
and these thy gifts which
we are about to receive from thy bounty,
through Trump, Our President, Amen.
Not bad, he thinks, but a little obvious. He whips up a quick Version Two:
for the opportunity and the blessing
that you've given us to serve your agenda
-- and the American people --
through Trump, Our President, Amen.
Getting closer! One more try:
we thank you for the opportunity and the blessing that
you've given us to serve your agenda and the American people.
That's it! And not a minute too soon. It's Reince's turn to talk and he repeats it.
Trump is blown away. He doesn't recognize the source material, as he also won't recognize Reince's next speeches that start with "Who's the leader of the club?", "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears," and "I'm a little teapot." He wipes away tears and yells "YABBA DABBA DO!" In the closet, the bird who's been recording the whole thing grabs his ears and says, "I think it's gonna be a looooong four years."
1 comment:
And then the little turtle shrugs and quips, "It's a living." I can't work out who in Trumps cabinet is the turtle though.
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