Article: 178980 of talk.bizarre
From: pv@MCS.COM (Paul Vader)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: [Repost] The Conservative saga
Date: 1 Dec 1994 16:04:59 -0600
Organization: Inline Software Creations
Lines: 563
Message-ID: <3blhab$qn2@Mars.mcs.com>
Summary: My first series
X-Voting-info: Want to vote? Send a message with "SCORES: info" as the subject.
X-Scores-Web-page: <a href="http://www.mcs.net/~pv/home.html">Click here</a>
Status: O

The problem with writing topical material like this is that I'll probably
never be able to repost it again. Not that this is necessarily a Bad Thing. *

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,rec.humor
Subject: A Conservative Saga
X-Review-1: "Hogwash! What an inane piece of garbage."
X-Review-2: "Bush isn't really a conservative."
X-Review-3: "It may have just failed to turn me on."
Keywords: politics, fictional, satire
Organization: Inline Software Creations
Date: Tue, 5 Jan 1993 17:16:09 GMT
Lines: 573

What if all the terrible things that the far right have been telling us would
happen under a Democratic administration actually were true? What happens
when a pinko liberal political junkie goes 36 hours without sleep, and feels
a tinge of pity for George Bush on election day? While these questions might
seem painfully obvious to the readers of my "Conservative" saga, several very
confused letters accusing me of being to the right of Rush Limbaugh demand I
be explicit.

##########################################################################
From: pv@gagme.chi.il.us (Paul Vader)
Organization: Inline Software Creations
Subject: A Conservative's Nightmare
Summary: Reductio de absurdium
Keywords: Election, Politically Incorrect
Date: Thu, 4 Nov 1992 07:00:00 GMT

READER WARNING: The following article contains smug, heavy handed, and
                overwritten satire. Deal with it; I have an NEA grant and
                know how to use it.


[The scene: George Bush is sitting at his desk in the Oval Office. A bottle
of Halcion has been dumped into a bowl which sits with a glass of water at
the President's elbow. The phone rings]

G: "Heh Hello, this is the President. [someone on the other end speaks
   briefly, and George sighs heavily] Got to let them in I suppose. They're
   the landlords now, ha ha." [hangs up]

[Loud noises are heard from outside the office. The door slams open. Two men
stroll in and look around]

D1: "Oh, look! [points to a small alcove in which hangs a portrait of Ronald
    Reagan] What a perfect place for a Bob Mapplethorpe."

D2: "Just none of that icky Lisa Lyon stuff, OK?" [both cringe at the mere
    thought. The Reagan portrait is tossed across the room and framed photos
    of leather goods and miscellaneous body parts are compared with two
    pairs of discerning eyes, and one pair of goggled ones].

G: "Need to get some advice from above. [pauses] Naah, Jim is probably busy.
   Maybe the God guy can help." [George gets up]

[Cut to the outer office.  A woman in hiking boots and a plaid workshirt
is aggressively hitting on the secretary. She looks pleadingly
at the President as he runs through the door and down the hall, but he
doesn't notice]

[George pauses as he approaches the restrooms. A crash is heard as the
dividing wall between the rooms is cut down. The male and female silhouettes
on the doors have been removed. Dan Quayle, half paralyzed from fear of
contracting girl cooties, stands nearby with his legs crossed]

Q: "Come on, even *I* didn't actually believe this would happen. What am I
   going to do now? And why is my name written on the wall of one of the
   stalls after John Suunnu, Jesse Helms, Tom Foley, and Ted Kennedy?"

G: "Got to get out of here. The big Cheese is waiting... Oh yeah, Jim is
   busy. Gotta go anyway!" [George knocks over Dan as he starts running
   again]

[Tracking shot of George in the hallway. As he approaches the chapel, voices
can be heard chanting]

G: "Ah, feel better already. Nothing like a calming church service [Opens
   the door. A coven of naked women in blue body paint are turning the cross
   over and preparing to sacrifice a goat on the altar]. Oh my, is there no
   escape? Better find a phone." [George turns back towards his office,
   running somewhat slower now]

[Clarence Thomas runs by the other direction screaming, pursued by two large
African Americans in hair nets. Dan is still by the bathroom, arguing with a
hippy type]

Q: "What do you mean? You say you're the new drug czar and want to know
   where you can score the good er, stuff?" [George knocks Dan down again as
   he runs by]

[Cut back to the Oval Office. Bill Clinton and Al Gore are at the file
cabinets gleefully rubber stamping tax increases, import tariffs, and
environmental legislation that George thought was securely locked away.
Chelsea Clinton, wearing fishnet stockings, a mini skirt, a "Rock the Vote"
T-shirt, condom earrings, and way too much makeup, is rifling through his
desk. Ice-T's latest CD plays full blast from a huge boombox covering the
desk blotter. George enters]

G: "Young lady, what do you think you're doing? Hey! Give me that right now!"

[Chelsea has found his "hunting" pistol in one of the drawers. She turns up
the boombox even louder, briefly sights on the back of Al Gore's head, and
shrugs]

C: "Take it, [hands him the pistol] it's the wrong half of the family
   anyway. Hector! Where are you?" [a man in khaki military fatigues and a
   full beard enters the room and puts his arm around Chelsea. Bill and Al
   are paying no attention to any of this. Tax tax spend spend]

G: "Who in H-E-Double hockey sticks are you?"

H: "Hey there, I'm the new War Operations Officer."

G: "The guy with the "football"? Bomb codes, communications frequencies, all
   that?"

H: "Oh, we sent the nasty thing by FedEx to Boris Yeltsin a few minutes ago.
   It made all of us nervous having it around [George puts the pistol to his
   head in despair]. I'm afraid I'll have to take that sir. You can have it
   back after a seven day mandatory waiting period." [He wrestles George
   for the pistol. There is a loud bang]

[Cut to the President's suite. George sits up, waking in a cold sweat.
Barbara, on a trundle bed across the room, wakes up as well]

B: "George dear, what was that noise? Did you hear something?"

G: "Just a moment Bar, I think it came from outside."

[They both get up and go to the window. A rainbow colored VW microbus with
"Transition Team" stenciled on the side is parked on the grass].

THE END [and fortunately, a new beginning]. PV


##########################################################################
From: pv@gagme.chi.il.us (Paul Vader)
Organization: Inline Software Creations
Subject: A Conservative's Wakeup Call
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,rec.humor
Summary: Part II, The Sequel
Keywords: No, it wasn't just a dream
Date: Fri, 4 Dec 1992 05:29:24 GMT

READER WARNING: This is a piece of satire. Can you spell that? S-A-T-I-R-E.
                Certain stupid stereotypes and illogical prejudices are
                larger than they may appear in mirror. Void where
                prohibited, so long as it's nowhere near me.


[The scene: It is early morning on January 20th. George Bush is fast asleep
in his bed. Barbara is on a "trundle" bed across the room, also sleeping.
The phone rings, George answers]

GB: "Hello, this is the President. [looks at his watch] For the next couple
    hours anyway. What is it?"

BC: [on phone] "Hi dude, this is Bill Clinton. I warned you about Jim Baker.
    He's still barricaded in his office. If he doesn't start acting
    reasonable in five minutes I'll have to take decisive action. This is the
    first day of the first 100 of the rest of my administration, you know."

GB: "OK fine, rub it in. I'll give him a call and see what can be done at
    this juncture."

BC: "You do that. Don't forget to make the bed before you leave. Bye!
    [click]"

GB: "Don't have to make the gosh darn bed. Don't know how anyway. Not like
    this is a proper Presidential Suite." [George mumbles on in this vein
    for a moment as he looks tiredly around the room. It is apparent
    that the decorators have been all over the place. What once was a
    tasteful combination of Northeastern Fisherman and South Texas Urban
    Cowboy motifs is now a violently colorful collection of futons,
    psychedelic Peter Max posters, and Native American rugs and blankets.
    The washroom is screened off with a curtain of plastic beads. A Sitar
    and an Alto Sax hang on one wall. A table lamp with the shade removed
    has a black light screwed into it. Several stacked milk crates (the
    perfect bookcase building material) are overflowing with an extensive
    set of sex manuals and CDs of "The Devil's Music." George dials, and
    quickly moves the phone away from his ear.]

VOICE: [way over-amplified and heavily echoed, reverberating through the
       handpiece] "WHO PRESUMES TO INTRUDE UPON THE GREAT AND POWERFUL
       CHIEF OF STAFF?!"

GB: "Jim, can you please turn off the special effects? We need to talk."

JB: [if anything, louder] "YOU MAY PETITION TO MY SERVANT FOR AN AUDIENCE."

GB: "You know as well as I do that the entire White House staff has been
    fired, and that you're alone in your office. I'm coming over." [Hangs up
    before Jim can start screaming again.]

[George gets up, and steps over Barbara's still sleeping form to reach the
closet, where he puts on a sweatsuit with the Presidential seal on the
front, and "read my hips" on the back. He exits.

Cut to the hallway. Millie, the Lame dog, is being hotly pursued by the
first cat, Socks. Socks has a huge chunk of one of Millie's ears hanging out
of her mouth. Both of them crash into a passing Dan Quayle's legs, knock him
flat, and scatter.]

DQ: "Damn it PV, why can't you just go with the 'potatoe' jokes like
    everyone else on the planet? I'm going to be in favor of national health
    care by the time this is over."

[George enters the hallway, and climbs down four flights of stairs to the
basement. The level tees off. One branch is marked "Dungeon," and the other
"To Chief of Staff's office." Two differently abled bricklayers are doing an
excellent job building a wall across the front of the second branch.]

GB: "What the heck are you doing?"

BL1: "Boss's orders. He said to close this wing. President Clinton will be
     his own chief of staff."

BL2: "See, I made a sign to put on the new wall. It says "Do not open
     until the next Republican President."

BL1: "We're putting in a lot of food. He should be fine for years."

GB: "Don't do anything until I get back." [George walks down the hallway. At
    the far end is a heavy steel door, with a small speaker mounted on it at
    eye level and a button underneath. The outline of the words "Secretary
    of State" are clearly visible behind black stick-on letters which read
    "Chief of Staff." George pushes the button.]

VOICE: "PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THE PRESIDENT. THERE IS NOTHING
       WRONG WITH THE ECONOMY. ANNOY THE MEDIA. [the voice trails off,
       except for the word "trust" repeating almost inaudibly during the
       rest of the exchange which follows.]

GB: "You're going to have to come out of there. Admit it, it's over.
    Sometimes the good guys lose."

VOICE: "THIS WILL NOT STAND. AS YOU MAY KNOW, COUPS CAN FAIL. WHO DO YOU
       TRUST?" [trust. trust. trust...]

GB: "Oh, this is useless. Maybe that bozo has the right idea. It wasn't like
    he was very effective anyway."

VOICE: "THAT KIND OF COMMENT CUTS INTO THE DIGNITY OF THE NATION. I JUST
       CAN'T AGREE WITH IT. MAYBE YOU DO, BUT *I* DON'T."

[George leaves, and gives the workmen a nod on his way back].

CMB: "Excuse me please."

[George's mouth drops open as freshman senatrix Carol Moseley Braun walks
past him towards the "dungeon" branch, with Clarence Thomas on a choke
chain following at her heels. Clarence looks up for a moment.]

CT: "This is all yo -- Gack!"

CMB: "I didn't give permission for you to speak! You have to pay for that
     abortion rights vote you ducked out on the other day, you worm! I've
     gotcha jurisprudence right here!" [yanks the chain again]

CT: [unintelligible].


Coming soon to a net near you - "A Conservative's Last Hurrah." Part III, the
swearing in. If I can think of something, anyway. PV


##########################################################################
From: pv@gagme.chi.il.us (Paul Vader)
Organization: Inline Software Creations
Subject: What The Conservative Saw
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,rec.humor
Summary: a somewhat short Part III
Originator: pv@gagme
Keywords: "Last Hurrah" sounded too pretentious
Date: Sun, 6 Dec 1992 02:55:02 GMT

READER WARNING: Satire performed by trained professionals. Kids, don't try
                this at home! Serious injury or a wedgie every day for the
                rest of your life could result. This article is rated NC-17,
                so you shouldn't be reading it anyway.

[The Scene: George Bush is walking back up from the basement after a failed
attempt to talk sense into his Chief of Staff, who has now been bricked into
his office until the next republican administration.]

GB: "If ever there was a Halcion moment, this is it. The party mix is still
    in the oval office... That is, if Bozo or Ozone haven't replaced it with
    loco-weed."

[George reaches the top floor, and turns towards his office. Dan Quayle,
furtively carrying a pickle jar half full of a yellow liquid, plasters
himself against the wall until George passes.]

DQ: "Whew! That was close." [Dan turns down another hallway, trips over a
    pair of panties mysteriously left lying on the floor, and spills the
    contents of the jar on himself]

DQ: "Bleeeagh! That's it PV! Kiss any Illinois wetlands goodbye. Your state
    has a republican governor, you know."

[Cut quickly back to George at the door to the oval office. It is closed,
and soft, unearthly noises are coming from the other side. A garter belt is
stuck under the door. George knocks]

Voices: "Go away! Mmmph!"

GB: "This is still my office for another hour. Don't have to take this kind
    of treatment. I'm not the Commander In Chief for nothing. AAAIIIIEEEEE!"
    [kicks door open]

[Cut to Oval Office interior. Hillary Clinton, in a black robe complete
with hood, is seated at the desk. Two feet wearing brown oxford shoes are
sticking out from underneath it. A pair of black silk stockings are sitting
on top of the "IN" box. In the "OUT" box is a huge pile of papers with
"recinds past executive branch orders" stamped on them. George enters.]

HC: "Can you come back later? Bill and I are umm, making some last minute
    preparations before the inaguration. Isn't that right, honey?"

BC: "Mmm Hmmmph!"

GB: [Pulling his collar and generally looking uncomfortable] "That's fine.
    About time to check by the ballroom anyway. Better run!" [leaves]

HC: "Oh, Bill! How about Secretary of Defense instead? I love a man in
    uniform."

BC: [unintelligible]

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Coming soon, the final chapter of "A conservative's last days," If I can
figure out how to write myself out of this. Also included are the credits,
which are growing longer than the entire piece. Stay tuned, PV
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

["Daddy, what was the man doing under the desk?"
"Cleaning up the dust bunnies. Now go to bed."]


##########################################################################
From: pv@gagme.chi.il.us (Paul Vader)
Organization: Inline Software Creations
Subject: A Conservative's Finale
Distribution: world
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,rec.humor
Keywords: Part IV. Enough of this already.

PMRC ADVISORY: This article contains language and subject matter which may
               offend those without a life. A reality check is advised.

Voiceover: "'Charles In Charge' will not be seen so that we may bring you
           this Special Report: Passing the Torch - The Clinton Inauguration
           [Cheezy music and graphic of an Olympic torch superimposed over
           George Bush's teary and somewhat dyspeptic face] Tom Brokaw and
           National Public Radio's Cokie Roberts reporting."

[During the announcement, two off-mike voices can be heard very quietly in
the background:]

TB: "Larry King told me that during his interview, the producers flashed the
    word "loser" over George's face for 1/60 second."

CR: "You'd be amazed what you can do with the mind of a half-awake radio
    listener at 6:00am. On November second we..." [Audio abruptly cuts off]

[Scene shifts over to Tom and Cokie on the floor of the Presidential
Ballroom. A section of the room opposite them is partitioned off with heavy
black curtains.]

TB: [looks somewhat sheepish] "Umm, Good afternoon. We're here at the White
    House to witness the inauguration the people's totally free,
    uninfluenced choice for the next President of the United States, Bill
    Clinton."

CR: [Blushing] "We're all looking for President Elect Clinton's appearance
    with some anticipation. The inauguration ceremony has been, literally,
    shrouded in secrecy. Even President George Bush and his entourage
    [briefly pan to a section of seats near the stage where George Bush,
    Barbara Bush, Dan Quayle, and Marilyn Quayle sit fidgeting] seem to have
    no idea what is planned."

TB: "Mr. Clinton's wife Hillary took charge of the planning some weeks ago,
    and... [Tom pauses and puts his hand over his ear for a second] I have
    just been told that the ceremony will begin in a moment. Our remote
    cameras should give the viewing audience an unimpeded view of the
    proceedings."

CR: "We wouldn't even think of cutting away or talking over the swearing in.
    That would be rude."

[Cut to a perfect view of center stage. The curtain opens while Jimi
Hendrix's arrangement of "The Star Spangled Banner" for screaming electric
guitar plays. Hillary, still in the hooded black robe, stands at the left
side of the stage. Twelve similarly dressed women holding candles are
arranged around her. Bill Clinton is standing near the front of the stage to
the right, at a podium with the Presidential seal. Al, Al Jr., Karenna,
Kristin, Sarah and Mary Elizabeth "Tipper" Gore are behind him. Chelsea
Clinton, wearing ripped jeans and a studded black leather jacket, is
standing very close to Tipper, and repeatedly flicks a switchblade open and
closed by her ear. "Me so Horny" is clearly audible through Chelsea's
walkman headphones. Tipper appears ready to faint.]

HC: "Sisters, we will begin."

[Hillary moves to center stage, and the other women inscribe a large
pentagram on the floor behind her. Once it is complete they put the candles
on the floor at the points of the pentagram and start to walk in a slow
circle around it, waving their hands over their heads at intervals.]

HC: [CENSORED. The writer takes no responsibility for any property damage or
    eternal damnation resulting from the summoning of the Lord of Darkness.
    If you must know the text of this part, consult your local occult
    bookstore.] "...Owha Taboo Biam! Come forth, I implore thee!"

[With a burst of sulfurous black smoke, Lucifer, impeccably dressed in an
Armani suit, appears at the center of the pentagram. He steps right out of
it.]

L: "Excuse me ladies. Hillary! Babe! Great to see ya again. [They exchange
   "air" kisses]. Well, I suppose it's about time we get down to bidness [He
   turns to Bill]. William Beauregard Clinton, repeat after me:" [Bill
   places his hand on a thick black book bound in iron]

L&BC: "I, Bill Clinton, do swear as President of the United States to raise
      taxes on the rich, give cushy jobs to every relative, special interest
      lobbyist, and political crony I can think off, defile every room of
      the White House with my depraved lovemaking, embrace and encourage
      alternative lifestyles far out of the American mainstream, roll over
      for any petty dictator that may come along, sell out the future of our
      children, and maintain a steady flow of addictive drugs into the
      country until they are available on every street corner. Nothing is
      forbidden, all is permissible. What thou wilt is the whole of the law.
      Oooh Mang."

L: "Congratulations, Mr. President. [Pauses and looks around the room].
   Before I leave, I have a debt to collect on. Dan Quayle, you will come
   forward." [While he speaks a fiery pit forms in the center of the
   pentagram. Hillary and the other robed women put on Raybans and step well
   back from the edge. Dan goes up on stage, his legs making exaggerated
   movements as he walks]

DQ: "It's not fair! This wasn't the deal at all! I never got to be
    President!"

L: "That's not quite true, is it Dan? Remember when George Bush was having
   surgery? There you go."

DQ: [Blubbers] "You know that isn't what I meant!"

L: "What are you going to do, hire a lawyer? You burned that bridge quite
   nicely more than a year ago, and besides, they're all on my team anyway.
   Bwahahahaha! Down the pit with you! [Dan gives an excellent demonstration
   of the Doppler effect as he is thrown screaming into the void] Cheeky
   little bastard. Oh, and George! [instantly translocates so he is standing
   in front of George Bush] I just want to thank you for showing us
   democrats the way. Long life to you!" [hugs him]

GB: "Wha I Well Ah Ner Thank you, I guess."

L: "I'm outta here. Places to go, people to torture. You know how it is, huh
   George? [Lucifer elbows him in the ribs, then turns back towards Hillary]
   Bubeleh! Have your minions call my minions. We'll do Sabbat some time.
   Ciao!" [Lucifer disappears in a burst of flame. The entire front row get
   their eyebrows singed off.]

MQ: [Loudly] "I was bored with the weasel anyway. Now are we going to
    celebrate, or do I have to drink you all under the table?"

And so the four year party began. THE END.

[Fade to black, Roll credits]

                                   C A S T

Angry African Americans .......................... Rodney King, Mike Tyson
Voice of James Baker ........................................ Frank Morgan
Sen. Carol Moseley Braun (D. IL) .......................... Sister Souljah
Tom Brokaw ....................................................... Himself
Barbara Bush .................... Barbara Billingsley, before Nutri-System
George Bush .................................................. Dana Carvey
Bricklayer #1 ................................................ Stan Laurel
Bricklayer #2 ............................................... Oliver Hardy
Dana Carvey .................................................. George Bush
Bill Clinton ...................................... The Pillsbury Doughboy
Chelsea Clinton ........................................... Drew Barrymore
Hillary Clinton ........................................ Rebecca De Mornay
Decorator #1 .................................................. Don Knotts
Decorator #2 ................................................. Mick Jagger
Drug Czar ................................................... Cheech Marin
Hector (W.O.O.) .............................................. Tommy Chong
Lucifer, Lord of Darkness ................................ George Hamilton
Millie ....................................................... Fred Basset
Narrator ...................................................... Paul Vader
Dan Quayle ....................... Robert Redford (Sort of, if you squint)
Marilyn Quayle ................................................. Aeon Flux
Cokie Roberts .................................................... Herself
George's Secretary ......................................... Loni Anderson
Secretary's Suitor ....................................... Laurie Anderson
Clarence Thomas ............................................. Danny Glover
Socks ....................................... Itchy, or was that Scratchy?
Witches ..................................... Annie, Grendel, Jane Horvath,
                                                   Amy S Kahn, Yong-Mi Kim,
                                           Catherine Roth, Morrisa Sherman,
                                           C J Silverio, Catherine Stanton,
                                                    Ilana Stern, Tank Girl,
                                                      St Theresa of the Net


                                C R E D I T S

Director ...................................................... Paul Vader
Writer ........................................................ Paul Vader
Assistant to Mr. Vader ................................... gagme.chi.il.us
Distributor ..................................................... inews.nn
Continuity *********************************** The Clinton Transition Team
Typography ......................................... Message Composer [tm]
Armourer .......................... Buddy's Shooting Range and Singles Bar
Greatest sysadmin on the planet ............................... Greg Gulik
Set Design ........................................................... {0}
Makeup ..................................................... C L O U D I A
Markup ............................................................... 10%
Fuckup ................................................ big daddy hate box
WareZ D00d ......>..>>.>>>.....>>.....>>...>.>.>.....>.>>.... BIFF@BIT.NET
Dot abuse ................................................ alt.fan.warlord


                                  M U S I C
                                    
                             "Cop Killer", Ice-T
                       "Little Miss", The Spin Doctors
                  "Legend In My Living Room", Annie Lennox
                    "Suck My Kiss", Red Hot Chili Peppers
                           "Guns In The Sky", INXS
                  "Must be Crazy for Me", Melissa Etheridge
                      "Love Is A Stranger", Eurythmics

               Soundtrack available from Slipped Disc Records


                       A C K N O W L E D G E M E N T S

      "The Gore Family" appears courtesy of ILM, Animatronics Division
        Message Composer is a trademark of Inline Software Creations

        The writer would like to thank the talk.bizarre cabal, for
       corrupting his morals and generally being the coolest people on
               the net. Oh yeah, there is no cabal. Never mind.
                                    
       No animals were hurt, mistreated, or forced to proofread during
                      the writing of these articles. 

       Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is a figment of
          Patrick Buchanan and the far right's sick imaginations.


              A  C o n s e r v a t i v e ' s  L a s t  D a y s
                         November 1992 - January 1993


-- 
* PV   this article has no next sibling.