Satire Flash Fiction posted July 1, 2016

This work has reached the exceptional level
Flash Rambling

I'm Ready To Enter--Oh Yeah!

by michaelcahill


The thing about the desert is to avoid the shimmer in the distance. Hell’s bells, Luisa Tiene Catarro, it is a mir-ahh-gee. Don’t get confused by the volume of sand versus the ratio of water syndrome. It is not the briny deep full of jumbo skrimps on the horizon. Well, it is, but I’ll be damned if I’m sharing them with you. Now, get your giant, indiscriminate, shapeless, vapor self outta here.
Now, with that out of mind, let’s get to the planting. I predict these lithium bicarbonate seeds will produce a grove of mental health that will have these prairie dogs standing at attention for generations to come. … okay, a mile apart, six-foot-deep holes, two pills in each hole for breeding purposes … guess at the sex. Let them have their fun in any case. It’s the liberal agenda. No, McGovern didn’t win, but yes, you are the man who voted for him. You can say that out loud; you’re in the desert alone planting a lithium grove.

Fair young maiden? Shall we dance the dance of the sand dab? Krinkle your toes and blow your nose. To the west we turn, to the east we lean, to the south ... hey, where'd ya go?
Hold on … incoming … uh huh, speech … yes, Presidential platform, write-in candidate … snowballs, okay, got it.
I’m not a Washington insider. So rest assured, I will not be popular with the lobbyists who grease the machinery of what’s become a corrupt system. They don’t want Michael Patrick O’Cahill to be President of the United States. Oh, hells no! I’m not for sale. The Arabs and Al Kaida aren’t the puppeteer of this Irish boy. I know who the enemies are and I don’t sit down to dinner with them.
I’m an American and I stand for America and those boys who put boots to the ground to defend her. I see an American flag, I salute it. I don’t burn it or refuse to pledge my loyalty to it. And I don’t open up our shores so our enemies can come in and set up camp and destroy us from within.

(Hmm. I could've sworn Lincoln was assassinated. Damn, that would be a helluva endorsement. But, I'm sure that actor, Penelope Cruz I think, yeah, in a photo booth ... well, play it cool, just nod and acknowledge his presence. That Bernie Sanders could be up to his shenanigans ... )
I’m a family man and I’m for the American family. Since when is it a crime to be a family man, raise decent God ferring children and contribute an honest day’s work to provide for your family? When did asking for a handout become the preferred manner of support in this country? My pappy worked twenty-two hours a day to feed me and my twelve brothers and sisters. My precious mother darned every sock in Flatbottom, Mississippi at a dime a pair to keep food on our table. She didn’t ask for a handout. And they would've been glad to take it out and give it to her, too.
Now, they want to take away our right to defend our family. They want us to answer an armed burglar with a “howdy-do, come right in and take what you want”. In my house he’s greeted by Betty-Lou, my sawed off shotgun. The only thing he’ll take home is an ass full of lead. And so will anyone who tries to pry Betty-Lou from my hands. NO! Not while I still breath. Guns don't kill people, I DO, when they threaten my family.
We’ve got to educate our children. We’ve got to rebuild the roads and bridges of America. We’ve got to take care of the sick and elderly and poor. We’ve got to feed the hungry.
I’m going to do all of that and I’m not going to dip into your pockets to do it. My opponents want to take your last dollar to line THEIR pockets. Is that the leadership you want for the next four years?
Vote for me. Have it all. I’m the man that can give it to you.I'm ready to give it to you, RIGHT NOW! 

How was that? Yeah, I think I’m gonna win too. I wonder how long it will take for these trees to grow? Yeah, just sit there and stare. I know you can talk, you were before. Jealous, pure and simple. How's about I give you a cabinet post? Ahhh ... now you can talk all of a sudden.


Practicing for Sunday's Prose Potlatch. Flash Fiction will be the format and the topic will be revealed moments before we start writing. Yes, we are a wild bunch. No idea what one would call this particular piece. It's 3AM and sane people are asleep.

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