Finally, a Septicemic Blutwurst Worthy of the Congressional Sausage Factory

Dateline Washington - March 15, 2012

In its ninth attempt in three years to pass a comprehensive health care bill, the House of Representatives may have finally hit upon a legislative formula capable of meeting the rigorous standards of the United States Senate.

"No one is entirely happy with this bill, but a majority of members say they could vote for it if someone was holding a gun to their head," declared recently-elected Speaker of the House Bart Poostak, who appeared on Meet the Press Sunday afternoon wearing a .357 Magnum in his congressional shoulder holster.

In spite of the speaker's upbeat assessment, however, many House members continue to cite concerns over a number of controversial provisions contained in the final bill. They single out for particularly harsh criticism an amendment added in the final hours of floor debate that would, in effect, circumvent the 13th Amendment's ban on slavery. For their part, supporters of the bill are quick to point out that the legislation provides an "opt-out trigger" for states who choose not to participate in the "Human Livestock Initiative" as it's come to be known. The proposed trigger would become available to qualifying states north of the Mason-Dixon line immediately following a fifteen year mandatory trial period during which all states would be required to participate.

"I believe this historic compromise is the key to passing an equitable and affordable health care bill the American people can live with," said Senator Joseph Liebegeld, speaking at a gathering of executives from the Involuntary Guest Worker Transportation Consortium of Connecticut. "It squarely faces the simple truth that unwarranted government interference in the labor market was a bad idea back in 1865, and it continues to hamper our free enterprise system to this day. Only by allowing small business owners unfettered access to a fettered labor force will we succeed in re-establishing America's economic leadership in the world."

Senator Liebegeld went on to cite a recent Congressional Budget Office Study projecting a 900 billion dollar savings over the next decade as a result of a pilot program designed to introduce forced labor into the nursing profession. He also pointed out that if the "Nurse/chattel" program proved to be a success, it would likely be expanded to include other key sectors of the economy.

In addition to the slavery-restoration clause, the proposed legislation would also ease restrictions on a variety of activities that have largely fallen into abeyance in recent years, including corrective corporal punishment of women by their husbands, trial by drowning, forced female circumcision, and human sacrifice.

Virtually the entire Congressional Black Caucus has signed a petition vowing to vote down the bill unless the slavery restoration provision is struck from the final version. The Congressional Caucus for Women's Issues expressed similar concerns about the corporal punishment and genital mutilation clauses in the proposed legislation.

But several Blue Dog Democrats offered words of caution to the nay-sayers on the left.

"With all due respect, I would urge my African-American and female colleagues to view this bill in its entirety, rather than focusing on a few of its minor short-comings," said Rep. Tobias Dunderhead, conservative Democrat of Nebraska. "Perhaps they would do well to remember that it's their constituents who stand to gain the most in terms of health care benefits from this legislation. Given that we seem to be granting a lot of ‘special rights’ to women and blacks these days, the least these folks can do is get behind what we in the Congress consider a good faith effort to improve the quality of their lives."

Meanwhile, in a move widely viewed by pundits as a desperate attempt to head off primary challenges on their right flank, all fifty-seven members of the Conservative Party caucus (along with the lone surviving Republican member in the House, Maine's Lumpia Schmoe) have continued to ignore the entire issue, concentrating instead on shoring up what remains of their political base by attending as many possum barbeques, home-school graduation ceremonies, and one-syllable adult spelling bees as their busy schedules will allow.

These Conservatives have good reason to worry, according to spokeswoman Vandala Harquebus of the “Beyond the Palin” movement, which opposes all forms of immigration, taxation, birth control, science, electricity, fire, soap, and agriculture using anything other than a stick.

“Gummet bad,” she explained. “Gummet willy bad. Want no gummet!”

(Merry Christmas) (Happy Hanukkah) (Birthday Greetings) from the Ensign Family

Greetings to all,

We certainly hope this modest (holiday) (birthday) (anniversary) gift of ($4,800) ($12,000) ($96,000) (fill in your own amount) brings a measure of (joy) (solace) (compensation) to your (son) (daughter) (pet) (cuckolded spouse) during this (holiday) (campaign) (deer hunting) (legal separation) season.

Please consider it a token of our earnest appreciation for your decision not to (blackmail) (prosecute) (censure) (investigate) (pistol whip) our son John.

This unsolicited gift should in no way be considered (bribery) (hush money) (ransom payment). It can more properly be described as a sign of our deep and abiding (love) (respect) (esteem) (caution).

Please feel free to use these perfectly innocent packets of unmarked bills in any way you see fit - including re-gifting them to a third party who may be in the process of (blackmailing) (extorting funds from) (threatening legal action against) (being bribed by) you.

Should you choose to consider this a tax-deductible campaign contribution, we sincerely hope it assists you in your worthy efforts to get re-elected as a representative of the (Republican) (Democrat) (Libertarian) (Secessionist White People’s) party. This country needs good, honest (men) (women) (underage children) like you in the (House of Representatives) (Senate) (Nevada Gaming Commission) (Parole Board). Thank you for all you (do) (don’t do) (go through the motions of doing, but avoid like the plague). It means a lot to us. Let us know if we can be of further assistance.

Wishing you a prosperous (New Year) (Election result) (Divorce settlement) (Arraignment)

Your close personal friends,
Michael and Sharon Ensign
Las Vegas, NV

Vegetable Farm

(an allegory of an allegory)

One crisp autumn afternoon toward the end of a profitable fiscal year, Mr. A. D. Midland, C.E.O. of Down-home Pastoral Farms Conglomerated, gathered all of his many and varied vegetable employees together in the warmth of the greenhouse, and was reading aloud to them from George Orwell's Animal Farm. After finishing up the last chapter, Midland placed the book in his lap and addressed the assembled legumes, salad greens, and tubers.

"O.K., my little Veggies," he asked, "what important lesson have we learned from this cautionary tale?"

Peter Parsnip was the first to germinate a reply, "That animals can talk!" he shouted with flatulent enthusiasm.

"Fair enough," responded farmer Midland, barely concealing his highbrow contempt. "What else?"

"That pigs like to wear clothes and get drunk," offered Spudwell Potato Head, one of the simpler complex carbohydrates on this or any corporate farm. Midland's eyes rolled involuntarily as he grimaced ever so slightly. Frankly, he was beginning to question the wisdom of reading allegorical literature to life forms as congenitally unsophisticated as vegetables. Just at that moment, however, he was pleasantly surprised by a bright green head of lettuce.

"We learned that socialism is evil," said Mr. Green the Head Lettuce thoughtfully.

The ebullient farmer unleashed a toothy grin that spanned from ear to ear. "Exactly!" he exclaimed.

Unfortunately, the profundity of Head Lettuce’s revelation was clearly lost on the rest of the audience, which remained in what can best be described as a persistent vegetative state. Undaunted, Farmer Midland sought to capitalize on what he at least viewed as a teachable moment.

"In fact," he began, "the animals in this story represent the unbridled lust for power of an out-of-control government bureaucracy."

"But Mr. Midland, sir, wasn't it the animals who were suffering at the beginning of the book?" inquired a somewhat naive bale of new mown hay. "I mean, obviously horses and cows are evil, but I actually felt sorry for the cats and dogs on that farm. Wasn't Mr. Jones kinda mean to them, too?"

At this point, the sycophantic Mr. Green intervened to buttress his corporate master’s argument. "Admittedly, this particular farmer may not always have acted in the interest of his livestock, but we should be careful not to extrapolate generalities from any one individual case..." As Head Lettuce searchingly scanned the crowd of crudités and locked eyes with of a bunch of carrots, he could see they were thickly glazed.

Meanwhile, Farmer Midland lost no time in resuming the rhetorical offensive. "Look, whatever you think of Mr. Jones's actions in the story, you must admit they indicate he was under a lot of stress due to unwarranted government interference in his business. Government regulators not only unfairly penalized Jones for storing raw pork in an unrefrigerated warehouse warm enough to incubate flies, they further hampered his profit-making ability by restricting the sale of meat from diseased animals too sick to lift themselves off the ground.”

"There’s one thing I still don’t understand, though,” interjected Rudy Rutabaga. “Are you saying that when the animals in the story chased the farmer away, that was kind of like the government taking over the farm?"

"That's right, rootboy," chimed in Mr. Green, running out to patience. "Remember, all you need to know is this:

“1.) Animals make up the government;

“2.) Animals eat plants (i.e., us); therefore,

“3.) The government will eat us if we let them."

The medley of mixed vegetables wilted in horror. "Then who can we turn to to protect us from the government?"

"That’s where we farmers come in," declared Mr. Midland proudly. "We represent the free market garden established to serve your unhybridized ancestors, the cause for which so many of them were willing to be sliced, diced, mashed, and pureed. So don't let their sacrifice be in vain. Take my advice: gather up your fiber, lock tendrils together, go march into those livestock pens while you still can, and show those government farm animals who’s boss!"

After some initial debate, the intrepid vegetables finally agreed with Mr. Midland and Mr. Green, and resolved that they’d better act quickly if they were going to save themselves. So they formed up in ranks, raised up a mighty battle cry, and charged off into the holding pens where they were immediately trampled and eaten by the grateful livestock.

"Now all we have to do is drag these government animals into the bathtub and drown them," said Farmer Midland with a wry smile. “Then we can enjoy a proper feast.”

Mr. Green laughed nervously. “How do I know you won’t try to eat me?” he asked.

Mr. Midland was quick with his answer. “That’s simple. You remind me too much of money, and only a fool devours the thing he loves.”

Upon hearing this, the head of lettuce breathed a miasmic sigh of relief.

“Besides,” the farmer added, almost as an afterthought, “Salad sucks.”

Stop the Government Takeover of America's Armed Forces!

Let's Stem the Creeping Tide of Socialized Militarism Before it's Too Late...

Back in the days when our Original Founding Fathers - rugged, hard-working, self-reliant men like Charlemagne, Sweyne Forkbeard, and Basel the Bulgar-Slayer - created the system under which we thrive and prosper today - namely, feudalism - armies were, by and large, in private hands where they belonged. In those days, the merest suggestion that a nationalized army was under consideration by some illegitimate, foreign-born blackamoor prince or other was enough to send our gallant, free-enterprising forebears scuttling back to their moat-girded castles for the billhooks, maces, broadswords, and war hammers guaranteed them under the Second Amendment to Erik Bloodaxe's Rules of Civilized Mayhem. They understood (even if we have forgotten) the dangers inherent in allowing a government - any government - to limit the size and scope of a man's legitimately constituted private retinue of armed retainers. The essential question was then (as it remains today): How can a man consider himself truly free if his government can constrain him from exercising his God-given right to use lethal force in imposing his will on his neighbors?

Needless to say, if our current "Pretender in Chief" and his socialist allies in Congress succeed in forcing through a government takeover of the military in this country, there is bound to come a day in the not-too-distant future when our grandchildren ask us in a plaintive voice, "Grampa, what was it like when you were young and legal questions were settled through manly tests of mortal combat unencumbered by meddlesome government interference?" I, for one, will not have the heart to answer that question. What about you?

And what about the so-called "public military option"? According to the independent research group ITTTTI (In The Tank Think Tank Inc), this is nothing less than the first step toward driving honest contractors like Xe/Blackwater and Wackenhut right out of business. And this at a time when an overwhelming majority of Iraqis and Afghanis say they are satisfied with the occupation forces they currently have and don't wish to add another layer of wasteful and expensive armed bureaucrats on top of it.

But it's not just the army that President Obama wants to nationalize. He also has plans to create a government-run navy. That's right folks, he wants to undo three centuries of Profitable Privateering on the High Seas by innovative small business entrepeneurs like venture capitalist Henry Morgan of J.P. Morgan Chase and currency trader William Kidd of the investment firm Kidd "R" Us , in favor of a centralized fleet on the British model. And just in case you think that's a good idea, I refer you to Sean Hannity's exclusive on-air phone interview with a caller who identified himself only as 245-year-old mutineer Fletcher Christian of Pitcairn Island. He has precious little good to say about the Royal Navy, I can tell you.

Now we can take all this lying down, of course, or we can all rise up together and be miscounted! Join us in Boston at noon on September 31, 2009 for the Million Man Midnight Ride of Paul Revere, followed by the Million Man Boston Massacre. All you have to do is download any of the prefabricated slogans from our FOX News website, customize the spelling till your heart's content, and paint it on your T-shirt with a ketchup-dipped freedom fry while standing in front of a mirror so you're sure to get it right. Then drive to Boston with your car windows down yelling, "The Red States are coming! The Red States are coming!"

The other 1.7 million of us will be waiting for you inside the Old North Church.

And remember, the folks back home is a' counting on ya...

In the Land of the Witless, the Half-wit is King

Last Friday night I attended an encore performance of Billy Bob Shakesbeer's Oaf-fellow, the Boor of Menace at Fraud's Theater in Washington D.C. Since it's debut in 1944, this classic tragedy has been captivating and enthralling generations of Americans with its unique blend of pathos, grit, rustic flummery, and unsettling reliance on deus ex machina plot twists. Now, on the occasion of its sixty-fifth birthday, Oaf-fellow is faced with the prospect of having the plug pulled on its footlights. During the next few weeks, the National Theater Company's Termination Panel will decide under what conditions (if any) the play is likely to be revived. The ultimate decision is, as they say, in the hands of Washington theatrical bureaucrats who aren’t answerable to anyone but themselves.

Be that as it may, on this particular evening, the President and First Lady were on hand for the play's final gala performance. Out of respect for their presence, and in tacit acknowledgment of one particularly regrettable mishap that occurred during a previous presidential visit to Fraud's Theater, audience members were asked to voluntarily check their hunting rifles, shotguns, flame-throwers, grenade-launchers, and surface-to-air missiles at the wine bar in the lobby before entering the theater proper, which (to their credit) most agreed to do. The only persons permitted to retain sidearms, derringers, bowie knives, crossbows, and poison-tipped darts for personal protection were, of course, the actors themselves.

But what of the individual merits and unprecedented longevity of the play? The fact that Oaf-fellow has survived on the D.C. stage longer even than the combined runs of Cats!, Les Miserables, and Phantom of the Opera is hardly surprising when one considers that its seasoned cast is a virtual Who's Who of Washington character actors (not to say actors of character). And while this critic has been known on more than one occasion to criticize the well-worn practice of unimaginative type-casting, I must admit that in this case the virtual melding of these actors with their respective roles achieves the kind of free-wheeling ensemble cast performance that most Tony-winning actors can only dream of.

The heroine of the play, Desmarona (movingly portrayed by Mademoiselle Healthcare Reform) is a fragile, helpless, and long-suffering victim of serial abuse who endures relentless torment and unimaginable badgering throughout the first two acts, only to be mutilated, strangled, hanged, disemboweled, quartered, saturated with pitch, and burned alive at the stake at least twice in Act Three by the inherently decent (but irredeemably thick-headed) protagonist, Oaf-fellow, the Boor of Menace. The part of Oaf is played with admirable simplicity by noted trailer park thespian Nick Bottom Quartile (whose frequent guest appearances on American Idol, Judge Judy, and Tennessee Town Hall Truckers have made him a perennial favorite with American audiences). Like all tragic heroes, Oaf-fellow takes considerable pains to dismantle and destroy that which would shield him from harm, and steadfastly embraces those forces that seek to fleece, gut, and skewer him. That, of course, is what makes Oaf so heroic and endearing. He is we, as we are he, as we are free, and we all fail together (ha, ha, ha, he, he, he, ho, ho, ho).

But the dramatic fulcrum on which the play pivots is the character of Quasiago (played with vaudevillian subtlety by the irrepressible Glenn Beck) an imbecilic, uni-dimensional villain with the heart of Iago and the mental acumen of Quasimodo. It is Quasiago who uses a bewildering blizzard of implausible lies and inherently preposterous circular arguments to play on the unfocused anxiety, groundless fears, and puffed-up vanity of Oaf-fellow. As we watch his clumsily constructed machinations succeed in subverting all known rules of logic, we marvel at the artistic audacity of the playwright almost as much as we agonize over the corkscrewy cosmology of a universe where such absurdities are even remotely conceivable. As Quasiago himself proclaims (while crowning himself with his own half-empty inverted chamber pot during the final, climactic scene), “In the land of the witless, the half-wit is king.”

Upon hearing such noble sentiment so admirably expressed, I must confess that with hot tears in my eyes I leapt to my feet, shouting,“Vive le Roi!”

It was a sentiment obviously shared by many other audience members at Fraud’s that night. Even as the final curtain came down, several of them signaled their enthusiastic approval by drawing concealed weapons out of their boots, hats, overcoats, and handbags and firing a round of celebratory but harmless shots through the theater's ornately-carved plaster ceiling and into the make-shift hospice care facility on the second floor.

“Oaf-fellow is not only every man, he’s an every man for all seasons,” one elderly theater-goer told me on the way out, “In the sixty-five years since the play first débuted here in Washington, my husband and I have seen it seventeen times, as performed by six different casts. And no matter how many times we see it, we never get tired of expecting it to turn out differently...”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

"The Balls of Liberty" or,

Rupert Puts Roger Ailes in Charge of Fox Sports

"The Balls of Liberty must be Atwatered from time to time with the Dribble of the Dimwitted and the Piddle of the Privileged. It encourages their natural downward spin." - Sir Roger Hoggwash (celebrated cricketer and producer of "Fox Hunter and Friends")

Being both a Progressive and a fan of Major League Baseball, I sometimes find myself confronted with a troubling moral dilemma: whether or not to besmirch myself by watching the odd baseball game on FOX Sports. Don’t get me wrong; I will watch a game on FOX, but it requires considerable self-justification. I tell myself things like, “Actually, Rupert Murdoch doesn’t make a dime off you watching this. You’re not in the market for a new Dodge Ram Pickup, you hate Doritos, and you haven’t gone near a Coors Light in years. Relax, already.” Such rationalizations, until recently, worked wonders in assuaging my guilt. But, alas, no longer. Not now that Murdoch the Mighty has put Roger Ailes in charge of FOX’s sports division.

Imagine the horror of tuning in during the sixth inning of a game and hearing the wingnut blathering of FOX News commentators Sieve Doozy and Kneel Kabuki. Oh, the humanity!

Kabuki: Well so far, Sieve, I’d say we’ve had a pretty fair and balanced contest here this afternoon.

Doozy: That’s right, Kneel. The fact that the scoreboard shows a 17-1 advantage in favor of the Tawkina Blue Streaks over the Rottenboro Red Herrings is really quite misleading. As I’m sure our FOX Sports viewers are well aware, Commissioner Limbaugh’s recent ruling that “any game decided by a margin of less than 23 runs shall be considered a tie” has gone a long way toward eliminating the sort of unfair advantage previously enjoyed by teams who held “numeric superiority” or who employed “game plans” or “strategies”, or other kinds of underhanded tricks. And if you saw those three homemade-sign-waving grassroots demonstrators outside the FOX News Studio this morning in support of the commissioner, you know in your gut that real baseball fans everywhere are 100% behind this common sense ruling...

Kabuki: So after five innings here at Dan Smoot Memorial Stadium in Rottenboro, Texas, the score is tied, 17-1.

Doozy: And Kneel, here comes the Tawkina Blue Streaks’ manager, “Doc” O’Bama out of the visitors' dugout. Yep, he’s waving down to the bullpen. Looks like he’s gonna bring in his controversial middle reliever, Max Balkus.

Kabuki: That could be good news for the Red Herrings, Sieve. Balkus has a lifetime ERA of 27.2.

Doozy: Good point, Kneel, and the stats show that Balkus certainly lives up to his name. He’s the National League record holder for “maximum number of balks committed in a single game”, an impressive thirteen, in fact. Among active pitchers, only Harry “Wiffle Ball” Weed comes close, with nine.

Kabuki: Excuse me, but do you notice anything odd about that conference the Blue Streaks are having out there on the mound, Sieve?

Doozy: What do you mean?

Kabuki: Maybe it’s my imagination, but I don’t see a single Red Herring uniform in that conference. It looks to me like the Blue Streaks are trying to prevent their opponents from having any input into an important decision that could drastically affect the outcome of the game. I doubt the fans are going to stand for this, Sieve.

Doozy: Neither, apparently is the plate umpire, Gland Bark. He’s gone out to the mound to admonish O’Bama for exhibiting shameless personal bias against the Red Herrings. Now Bark’s waving at the Herring dugout, holding up three fingers. Oh, I see. He’s motioning for three Red Herring players to join the conference on the mound, which should even things up a bit.

Kabuki: That’s only fair, obviously. But really, Sieve, does it go far enough? I heard from a reliable source that the Red Herrings don’t have a single representative inside the Streaks dugout. Not one! Without appropriate oversight and reasonable consultation by members of the Rottenboro team, how can the fans trust any of the decisions coming out of that dugout?

Doozy: Once again, Kneel, it looks like Umpire Bark is right on top of this. He’s telling O’Bama he’s going to have to allow at least five Herring players in the Streaks’ dugout. And boy, O’Bama does not look happy about it! I mean, he’s not saying or doing anything about it, but he sure looks unhappy...

Kabuki: Trust me, those negative expressions are not lost on the umpire, Sieve. Bark’s started gyrating around wildly and tearing at the turf with his cleats, throwing infield dirt and divots all over O’Bama. Now he’s thrown himself down on the infield and is keening like an Irish widow. He looks like he might even... Oh, there it is, Sieve, did you see it? O’Bama just shot the sobbing, prostrate umpire a disdainful, elitist look. I’m afraid he’ll have to be tossed from the game for that, Sieve.

Doozy: And rightfully so. He probably should be banned from the game for life, or even longer. In fact, how do we know he’s even eligible to be a Major League manager, anyway? I know he claims to have been a player at one time, but has anyone ever actually seen a baseball card with his picture on it? What exactly is O'Bama hiding, that’s my question. SHOW US YOUR ROOKIE CARD, MR. O’BAMA!!

Kabuki: Well, now that O’Bama’s likely been banned-for-life from Major League Baseball, it looks like “Slidin’ Joe” Biden will be taking over as acting manager. No telling what'll happen now...

Doozy: Excuse me, Kneel, but our producer tells me that with all our incisive and unbiased commentary we’ve forgotten to report what’s happening down on the diamond...

Kabuki: Point taken, Sieve. Here comes Balkus’s next pitch. The batter swings and misses, strike four. That'll bring up a full count: one ball and four strikes. Now the hitter, Chuck Gasbag, steps out of the batter’s box; he’s taking a sack of something out of his pocket - chicken manure, it looks like - and he's dumping it all over home plate. Now he’s taken off one shoe, handed it to the umpire, and stepped over to the other side of the plate to bat left handed.
Doozy: That’s not a normal thing to see, is it Kneel? A batter switch-hitting in the middle of an at bat, I mean?

Kabuki: Actually, that’s one of Gasbag’s trademarks. That and losing track of what game he’s in...

Doozy: Here’s the windup, and the... Oh, now you don’t see that everyday. It looks like Balkus stepped off the rubber, stuck the ball completely into his mouth, took it out again with his dentures clamped around it and threw the whole thing over the top of the backstop. The ump’s gonna have to call a balk, interference, and a wild pitch on that, I’m afraid. All three base runners are gonna be allowed to score on that unfortunate gaffe.

Kabuki: It’ll be interesting to see if Balkus looses his composure here. So far, he’s maintained the same unflappable Cheshire Cat smile throughout the inning, almost as if he knows something we don’t.

Doozy: Here comes the delivery to Gasbag. Oh, it looks like the pitch hit him. Yep, the ump’s waving him down to first base. Let’s take a look at that one on the replay, Kneel. Yeh, there it is, the ball hit him square in middle of his 26” wide inflatable batting-belly.

Kabuki: And there’s a perfect illustration of why the Red Herrings’ manager, John "Puzzlewit" Brainer requires his players to wear those things every time they come to the plate - when worn properly they take up nearly the entire strike zone. Even so, you gotta give Gasbag credit for hanging in there on that pitch and taking one for the team...

Doozy: That’ll bring up Red Herring center fielder, Dick Smarmey.

Kabuki: You know, Sieve, Smarmey was one of the first players in the league to take advantage of the new regulation deregulating the size of bats. And as all baseball fans should know by now, deregulation means more and better choices for everyone, especially indiscriminate sluggers like Dick Smarmey.

Doozy: That’s true, Kneel. That's why Smarmey chose to trade in his old 34” Louisville Slugger for a 79” long Darth Maul Titanium-Core Deathclub.

Kabuki: Let’s see how Big Dick wields that Deathclub against the enemies of liberty and democracy out there in the field, Sieve. I know that all the fans who love and respect this game the way we do will be rooting for him to pulverize, dismember, and decapitate anyone who stands in his way...

Doozy: And here’s the pitch. Smarmey swings, and (crack!!!!) Oh-h-h that looks like it hurt! The Blue Streaks’ catcher and team captain, Burney Frink looks like he was hit in the back of the head with something really hard. What do you suppose it was, Kneel?

Kabuki: I’m guessing it was that 79” bat...

Doozy: The Blue Streaks’ trainers are bringing a stretcher out onto the field... Burney’s out cold. It looks like he’s already lost a lot of blood. But wait, now it appears as if Smarmey’s going to make the case that Frink deliberately interfered with the arch of his swing...

Kabuki: Look’s like the fans agree, Sieve. About a dozen of them just ran onto the field wielding broken bottles, bicycle chains, cyanide canisters, grenade launchers, and tactical nuclear warheads strapped to refrigerator dollies. Of course here in Texas, citizens are all perfectly within their rights to do so, assuming they’re law abiding and possess valid birth certificates...

(Scattered fist-fights and running gun battles break out between groundskeepers and disgruntled fans in the outfield; roving packs of timber wolves and hyenas emerge from the visiting team dugout in pursuit of fleeing players, and swarming flocks of starlings, scrub jays, and magpies begin relentlessly dive-bombing panic-stricken fans in the bleachers, even as they trample each other trying to get to the exits.)

Doozy: Well, isn't this a treat! We’ve just been joined here in the booth by the sports reporter for the Gulf Grifter, Tom DePraved. Tom what’s your take on all this hullabaloo?

Depraved: (His voice nearly drowned out by bursts of automatic weapons fire, British police sirens, Chinese Gongs, trumpeting elephants, and sporadic cannon blasts) What you’re witnessing today is the righteous indignation of the average American baseball fan. For years now, these good, decent people have been trying to send us a message: WE NEED TO SLOW THIS GAME DOWN. Baseball is far too important to the American people for us to rush to any final score before the fans have had a chance to weigh-in and assess what’s going on here. What we need is to start this game from scratch...

Wall Street Journal Reports Santa Claus Going Out of Business

A spokesperson for world renown toymaker and philanthropist Santa Claus told the Wall Street Journal on Tuesday that after 6,892 consecutive quarters in the red, Claus is finally - reluctantly - calling it quits. Inside sources at Claus Industries International (CII) this morning confirmed widespread speculation that the company had fallen prey to a hostile takeover initiated by Claus's nephew, the reclusive health insurance tycoon known to investors only as "X. 'Grubby' Claus."

"I just hope each and every one of my loyal helpers manages to land on his or her financial feet," offered the distraught and visibly shaken elder Claus, CEO and - until recently - managing stockholder of the firm. "I know this was as much a shock to them as it was to me." Some three hundred elves are expected to lose their jobs as a result of the acquisition, which could send the unemployment rate in the sparsely-populated North Pole region soaring as high as 93%.

According to company executives, the future of CII's charitable wing - The Claus Foundation - remains uncertain. When contacted by reporters following Tuesday's announcement, X. Claus declined to specify what plans, if any, he had for the philanthropic enterprise. He was, however, willing to share a few tantalizing details in an exclusive interview granted to the Wall Street Journal's Pamela Pabulum:

WSJ: Mr. Claus, thank you for agreeing to talk to us.

X. Claus: My pleasure.

WSJ: First of all, I'm sure our readers would love to hear your expert assessment regarding any fatal flaws in your uncle's business model which may have led to the kind of long term stock devaluation the company has undergone in recent centuries. What can you tell us about that?

X. Claus: Well, it's not really a mystery, is it? I mean, you run a giveaway program that rewards every kid in the world for simply being "good", and what do you expect? I don’t even know how to quantify “good”, do you? It’s too vague a term to be of any use in business, and it’s certainly no basis for a corporate strategy. In my opinion it’s SOCIALISM writ large, pure and simple, and it has no place in a free country like ours.

WSJ: So it's safe to say you’re not planning to continue producing toys?

X. Claus: Look, here’s the bottom line. We’ve issued urgent instructions to all middle management at Claus Industries to redirect the company’s resources away from the non-profit manufacture of toys and into the highly lucrative and growth-oriented health insurance and pharmaceutical sector of the economy. Accordingly, we’ve changed our name to “ClausCare Inc.”

WSJ: Sounds ambitious.

X. Claus: Pamela, we're all about the future here at ClausCare.

WSJ: So I guess the children of the world won't be getting any free goodies in their stockings this year.

X. Claus: Regrettably, no. But I am proud to announce that as an introductory promotion this coming Holiday Season, our marketing department plans to provide enough free lumps of coal to fill every child's stocking up to the brim. Clean Coal. From the Cheney Family Strip mines in Hell Hole, Wyoming.

WSJ: I'm sure the children will be thrilled.

X. Claus: I hope so. We’re all really tickled about it here at ClausCare, I can tell you . And since it looks like Congress is going to pass a Health Care Reform Bill that requires some 40 million new customers to buy health insurance from private industry without recourse to some blood-thirsty totalitarian government plan involving Nazi “Death Canneries” that grind up old people and turn them into dog food, you can be sure we’ll be coming around to every house on Christmas Eve to sign up all 40 million of you new customers to vastly improved health care contracts. And don’t worry; You’ll be entitled to the sort of comprehensive coverage and up-to-date medical care envisioned by Our Founding Fathers back in 1776. That means free mercury-oxide for all, and no deductibles on leeches.

WSJ: Sounds great. By the way, what does the initial “X” in your name stand for?

X. Claus: It's a nom de guerre, really. A nickname I picked up at Harvard Business School. It's short for "Exclusionary." You see, the guys in my fraternity just started calling me "Exclusionary Claus”, since my major in business school was insurance underwriting, and it just sort of stuck. In fact, my grad school professors got together and presented me with a special award for "Most Creative Writer of Exclusionary Clauses."

WSJ: Can you give us some examples of your work in that department?

X. Claus: Sure. I was the driving creative force behind several industry favorites, including “Whereas the party of the first part, having failed to disclose his or her previously unforeseen medical condition...” And then of course there’s “In the event the insured fails to meet any of the extrinsic financial obligations imposed after the fact by the insurer in a timely manner...” And my personal favorite, “Under no circumstances shall a condition or complaint resulting from, or perceived as having resulted from, a nuclear conflict not directly attributable to the actions of the insurer result in...etc., etc.” That last one got me an honorable mention at the Health Care Expo in Las Vegas last year.

WSJ: Your Uncle Santa traditionally used helpers in his work, by which of course I mean his elves. I gather they’ll be considered redundant at ClausCare?

X. Claus: Unfortunately, yes.

WSJ: Will you be retraining any of those elves to perform jobs at ClausCare?

X. Claus: Well, there’s a bit of a problem there. You see, because Uncle Santa insisted on paying his employees a living wage for the past 1700 years or so, he had the luxury of skimming off the top of the elf gene pool. But because we here at ClausCare believe strongly that Freedom means “working for free”, we put a lot of advertising dollars into convincing working-class people to undermine their own best interests without expecting any compensation in return. This philosophy requires us, for obvious reasons, to dredge the bottom of that same gene pool as it were, to get at the deep sedimentary layer often referred to as "the salt of the earth." What we recover by this process is a different class of helper: less mercurial and more leaden of mind; less cerebral, more visceral in nature. But suffice it to say these workers serve our purpose quite well. Because of their near total absence of annoying brain wave interference, the predigested talking points we provide them to recite at public meetings are retained in their pristine state, you know, right off the printed page, as it were...

WSJ: Are these creatures even elves?

X. Claus: Well, genetically speaking, we’re not exactly sure. We refer to them as “Oaves.”

WSJ: If I’m not mistaken, the Urban Dictionary defines “oaves” as the plural of “oaf.”

X. Claus: Hmmm...Interesting. That may be true, but for us it’s a useful acronym. It stands for “obtuse, agitated, vituperative, and educationally stunted.” But for all that, these oaves are worth their considerable weight in gold, and frankly, we couldn’t operate without them!

WSJ: Yeah, I’ve seen them on TV; they can suck the intellectual oxygen right out of a room.

X. Claus: Damn straight.

WSJ: So, everybody knows Santa used a magic sleigh pulled by flying reindeer to make his appointed rounds. How do you get your “oaves” from town hall to town hall?

X. Claus: Well, Pamela, now that, thankfully, we’re out of the toy business, we decided to scrap that old wreck of a sleigh and replace it with a fleet of brand new, state-of-the-art coal-burning buses.

WSJ: Your buses are powered by coal?

X. Claus: Not powered by coal, heated by coal. They’re actually pulled by invisible unicorns.

WSJ: Forgive me, but aren’t unicorns imaginary?

X. Claus: Of course, but our oaves don’t know that! One should never underestimate the power of credulity to change the world, let alone pull buses. Actually, we've told the oaves they can help the invisible unicorns by pushing with their feet, and we've cut holes in the floorboards to facilitate this. It’s sort of ...ponderous, I suppose, but trust me, if the buses moved any faster, the oaves would be confused by all the blurred scenery. This way they can all stick their heads out of the window, relax, and enjoy the ride.

WSJ: One last question, Mr. Claus. Will ClausCare’s corporate headquarters remain at their current location at the North Pole?

X. Claus: Well, the North Pole is, in some respects, an admirable location. It’s extremely remote and inaccessible by phone or even internet, which makes it ideal from the standpoint of avoiding inconvenient medical claims by our customers. But I’m afraid my doctor (and by my doctor I mean, of course, the entire Health Insurance Lobby) has expressed some concerns about the climate. He points out that the average daily high temperature there is a relatively balmy minus 30 degrees F. and growing warmer (not due to any man-made climate change, I should point out). His recommendation is that in order to avoid fatal cardiac thaw, I should move to the South Pole, where it is a full 20 degrees cooler on average.
And as retired Texas congressman Dick Armey likes to say, "The only heart-warming stories we in the insurance business enjoy telling involve hungry cannibals around a campfire."

WSJ: Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Claus.

X. Claus: Not at all.