By David Glenn Cox
The curtain rises on the last act. The audience is hushed as the house lights go down. It’s pure theater; the point in the story were the plot hits a fork in the road, turns and goes all wrong. The antagonist walks the stage under a single blue spotlight to ask the ether, “Is Johnny going to jail? How could a man such he come to such a sad, sad end. Alas, life can be such a cruel mistress and we shall all miss Johnny and shall think of him often, remembering and him in our prayers, but what was it that Johnny did for us again?
He was your lawyer sir, your personal attorney Mr. Twump.
“Oh, that Johnny. Johnny Eastman. Damn shame about that. What do they say he did?”
Well sir, they say that Johhny and you. Conspired to use phony slates of state electors in effort to gum up Presidential certification. And to either have it decided by the house of Representatives or thrown to the Extreme Court, like a dead fish to a baying seal. This of course, really augments the story because of the revelations of Ginni Thomas, wife of future former Extreme Court abomination Clearance Thomas. AKA sub-plot back story.
“Wow, that’s quite a story. I don’t remember it that way at all. You say all that was Johnny? I remember I think maybe sort of, he said something or other, about having people coming to town. I thought he was talking about family. But you know Johnny, always tight lipped. Couldn’t get any details out of him without a crowbar.”
Or as Freddy Mercury would sing it, “Another One Bites the Dust” Here’s the wind-up and the pitch. It’s low and in the dirt. Twump throws his famous, “I barely know the guy, he used to get us coffee pitch. Everyone always said Johnny was nice, but so quiet.”
Like a rocket tail of expendable gases gimbaling to get the rocket to go where you want it to go. A trail of broken careers, Michael Cohen, Jeff Sessions, Mike Pence. I was on the highway yesterday and saw a flat bed truck with a Twump/Pence bumper sticker on the back. But the Mike Pence name had been violently scratched through multiple times with a knife, like something out of a slasher movie
Until Mike Pence refused to go along with Johnny Eastman’s Coup plot. The Twumpian faithful loved Mike Pence. He was only heartbeat away from the Presidency, and he was considered a fine man.
Then Pence bravely refused to assist Twump in overthrowing the government. But before you consider nominating Mike for a Gold Star- good dude award. Consider that it was only after Mike’s attorney assured him the plot was destined to fail and everyone involved would wind up in jail. Mike didn’t not cooperate with the coup plotters because he cared about American Democracy. His only concern was that the plot wouldn’t work, and they’d end up in jail.
Then where would they be? A bunch well heeled lawyers and politicians with great careers, answering questions from a bunch of pushy congressmen before a televised audience in a congressional hearing. That’s where they would be. So, Pence took the slings and arrows of Twump’s abuse and opted out of the revolution. Because Twump was correct. (Mark your calendars.) Twump was right, Mike Pence is a pussy.
If you’re going to be a pirate, by God be a pirate! Embrace that patch over your eye as the parrot nuzzles your earlobe. Drink the rum and say, “Arrrgh,” a lot, like you really mean it. “Embrace the dark side Luke.” If you’re going to ride with the Angels brother, you gotta be prepared to ride your Harley in the rain. You better be prepared to defend the club, if it comes to a fight. They don’t give you that patch on your back for free you know. It comes with serious responsibilities.
The club needed Mike, and he ran out on them. He was worried about what might happen to Mike. And after all they did for him too, they slapped the tobacco chaw out his mouth, combed his hair taught him to tie his tie and try not to act like he’s from Indiana anymore.
And look at how he acts? Buy him books and buy him books and put him on the school bus every morning and look how he repays them? All they wanted from him was one simple act of treason. And as a general rule, Mike’s not really opposed to sedition or treason as general thing.
Only he’s particular, the plot must be guaranteed to be a lead pipe cinch to work. If you’ve got a real good plan to overthrow the government Mike’s down with it! But if you bring him some half-ass broken down Twump inspired 50/50 chance coup plot, Mike will decline. Because it’s just like Twump said, “Mike Pence is a pussy.” (The Broken Clock Rule)
You’re running with the Good Fellas crew here and worried you’ll get a parking ticket? They ask you to make one single hit on one single government, and you say no? “Yep, pussy.”
To take all the benefits and ill-gotten, gains and then say, “No thanks.” I don’t want too. I could get in trouble. They needed Mike; he was the only one that could pull it off. I can only image the shockwaves that ran through the Republican Party. “Won’t do it! Whadda mean he won’t do it? Integra what? We’ve got crooked Extreme Court injustices just drooling for the opportunity to hand us this election.”
And from that instant, Mike’s career was over. He had disavowed and refused Twump. Three times, just like in the bible and in an instant, Pence became persona non grata. His Presidential campaign struggled to reach the high one percent range, before stumbling and falling to oblivion, now lying motionless and apparently deceased. Pence can only be the Parties nominee now if every other Republican dies. Then Pence could nominate himself for President, but there would be no one left to vote for him.
He’s now Palache, the sad clown. Unloved and cuckholded. Twump has disowned him for not going along with sedition and treason. The Trumpanzi’s grab their utility knives to attack the back of their own trucks. (Oh sure, that’s normal behavior. No one would ever assume that you’re in cult or are a brain-dead moron just by doing that.) To violently destroy the name of that man, whose name shall not be spoken. The man who dared to not go along with Donald Twump in sedition and treason.
Loathed and cursed by both sides for not picking a side and for not fighting for it. But not choosing is still choosing. Because Mike Pence is a pussy. Because if you’re going to burn down the bar for the insurance money, you must be willing carry the matches. The time to discover that you don’t have gumption or the stomach to run with the hoodlums, gangsters and criminals was a long, long time ago.
But the answer is most obvious, Mike’s a you know what.
“Mr. Editor,” Churchill replied to the first point, “I fight for my corner.” And, to the second: “Mr. Editor, I leave when the pub closes.”