Scene: A wood-panelled inner sanctum in the Taft-Hartley Corporate Towers.
Republican kingmakers Nucky Bommsen, Hartley Taft, Frank Phosgene, and Albert Befoul are in conference. The air is dense with cigar smoke.
Nucky Bommsen: We're so fucked. How come none of you rocket scientists realized what a black hole this guy was back in 2008? If every other brain-dead nitwit in the Republican Party can stay on message, why can't Romney? And now this new Bain business...How did we end up stuck with this flip-flopping piece of shit? (sings)
"How Did We End Up with Mitt?"
How did we end up
With Etch-A-Sketch?
Look at his numbers.
They make me retch.
Nobody likes him.
He doesn't shine.
Not to mention, he's
Missing a spine!
He's like something built from a kit!
How did we end up with Mitt?
Taft: (wearily) We've been over this before, Nuck.
Befoul: (hanging up the phone) He's on his way up.
Enter Mitt Romney.
Romney: Oh, my heck! (waving away smoke) Say, fellows (chuckling) don't you know tobacco stunts your growth?
(dead silence)
Nucky: Listen up, Romney. We need to nail the Vice Presidency down pronto. I got a string of billionaires waiting to write checks, but they want to know who they're buying!
Mitt Romney: You know my position on that!
Phosgene: Your position on Tuesday? Or today?
Mitt: Heh heh! Listen, if John Roberts says corporations are people, why can't I have one as a running mate? Maybe Bain's out, but what about United Northfield? UNorth's a great guy! Good raquetball player.
Nucky: No birth certificate, you moron! Sit down and shut up. And don't say ANYTHING to the press until WE give you your lines. (sings)
"Don't Say Anything"
Don't say anything!
Say bupkes today!
Don't say something
You'll later unsay!
Don't say the Earth's round -
Last week you said it's flat!
Don't say you loved that hound -
Mitt Romney: You mean Seamus? I loved that doggie! Good boy!
Nucky: Just shut up about that!
So don't say ANYTHING!
Just button that lip!
Just smile and nod
Like a tongue-tied clod,
Shut your piehole and don't say ZIP!
Nucky: Got that? ... Okay Albert, who's on the VP short list?
Befoul: Well, it's down to Paul Ryan (they groan) Rick Santorum (louder groans) Bobby Jindal (louder groans) Tim Pawlenty (weary groans) and that Hispanic dame from New Mexico, uh...Martinez (huge groans; somebody hisses).
Phosgene: No, no. Scratch the Mex broad. We tried a woman last time. It was a nightmare. (the others nod sagely)...I'm still traumatized. (sings)
When you're lying awake with a dismal headache,
And you're tossin' and turnin, and flailin',
You drink gallons of booze but you just cannot lose
The dread memory of ... Sarah Palin.
Befoul: Okay, the bimbo's out. What about Ryan?
Taft: A little wet behind the ears?
Nucky: Forget it. We need Ryan in the House, screwing the poor and the middle class.
Befoul: Okay, no Ryan. What about Santorum?
Mitt Romney: That's out. No way!
All: Shut up, Romney!
Befoul: Well, he's the hottest ticket that ever hit Dogpatch. (sings)
The hicks in the sticks
Really go for that Rick!
They squeal and reel like teenage chicks
He rouses the rabble
By talking hick babble,
And his talking points never wabble!
He's a man of principle
With morals invincible
He's squeaky-clean as can be
He's a pain in the rear
But the rubes hold him dear
We could do worse than pick Rick!
Nucky: Screw the hix in the stix. The hayseeds'll vote for whatever smacked ass we run. Besides, it's against my principles to put a man of principle in the White House.
Befoul: True, true. What about Bobby Jindal?
(dead silence)
Phosgene: ...That Hindu guy? Don't they worship apes or something? That'll never play in Peoria.
Taft: No, he's a Catholic, a conservative, yadda yadda. But umm....how do I put this? He's...kinda...dark. Isn't he?
Mitt Romney: Maybe it's all the smoke in here. Open a window!
Nucky: Shut up, Romney. We're pulling less than five percent of the dark vote, and this Jindal ain't gonna help those numbers. Scratch Jindal.
Befoul: Okay, no Jindal. What about Pawlenty?
Nucky: White, male, has a pulse. That's about all you can say for him.
Phosgene: Sounds good.
Mitt Romney: Works for me. Compared to him, I've got charisma! (sings)
He's got Paw-lenty of nothin',
And nothin's Paw-lenty for me!
Dim, no vim,
No personality -
He suits me to a T!
Befoul: I say we go with Pawlenty.
Taft: Oh, hell - it'll be a return to Normalcy. I'm in.
Nucky: Going, going, gone! It's Romney-Pawlenty 2012. ... We're done here. Get those donors on the line, Al.
With a machine-gun burst, the door crashes open.
In marches General Wilbraham G. Bonkers, flanked by an armed guard.
General Bonkers: IN THE NAME OF THE GREAT JEHOVAH AND THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS, I commandeer this smoke-filled room! (sings)
When the trump shall sound
And the seas are drowned,
And the tweetybirds hail the New Creation,
Heav'n's scroll shall relate
How Bonkers stepped up to the plate
And rescued God's Most Favored Nation!
Above the mighty whirlwind's roar
A still small voice I heard
Saying "Rise up Bonkers, thy land restore -
Gird on thy mighty sword!"
"Doers of foul iniquity
Now plot against the Right -
Thine must be the Vice Presidency,
Or thou shalt SMITE, SMITE, SMITE, SMITE, SMIIIIIIITE!"
General Bonkers: (gently) That's why I'm here. I have five nuclear warheads buried beneath five major cities, one for each "smite." Either my name goes on that ticket or those warheads go off the day after the election.
...And also, you'll have THE GREAT JEHOVAH to answer to. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes.
Nucky: If one word of this ever leaks out, the GOP would be sunk forever. We're in a shithole as it is.
Phosgene: ... Hmmm ... He might make the ticket stronger, at that.
Taft: It would balance Romney's lack of military service.
Befoul: And it'd play in Peoria.
Phosgene: "Romney-Bonkers 2012." ... Not too shabby.
Mitt Romney: (huffily) If you want my opinion,
All: Shut up, Romney!
Nucky: Well, General, I guess we'd rather have you inside our tent pissing out, than outside it pissing in. Once we get the Krotch Brothers' okay, it's a done deal. Will you tell us where the bombs are then?
General Bonkers: I shall pray about it. (Folds hands, bows head.) ... ... THE GREAT JEHOVAH says "Okay! Right after the convention."
(They shake hands all around. Nucky offers General Bonkers a cigar.)
Befoul: (telephoning) Hello, this is Mr. Befoul, give me Mr. Krotch, please.
~ THE END ~
NOTE: The preceding characters are entirely factitious, especially Mitt Romney. Moreover, the views of General Bonkers et al. are not necessarily those of the Author or the Editors of Daily Kos.