Magic Underpants: The Mitt Romney Story

4 Nov

Experience “trickle-down” like you never have before!

Obama always threw the best parties in town. Liberal with the booze and democratic with the music, it was the perfect place to get socialized, but America wasn’t having much fun. She felt like she’d been here for four years now, and though the energy was still high, Obama’s party hadn’t quite lived up to expectations. It didn’t help that she had just come from G.W.’s party, and so threw up pretty early into the night, and Obama had to spend most of his time cleaning up the mess. GM got pretty sick too, and a lot of other people had go home early, even a couple guys who everyone swore were too big to fail. America suspected the unregulated punch bowl.

But even still, now that she was back on her feet and mostly recovered, America couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place at Obama’s party, and the music was giving her a headache. Setting her drink down, she went to look for some place quiet where she could rest for a while.

After turning down a few halls, she found a small guest room, mostly insulated from the constant music. Assuming it to be empty, she flipped on the lights.

And there, on the bed, she saw him: his hair perfectly coiffed, his smile rigid and semi-lifelike, his tight temple garments highlighting his impressive fiscal policy.

“Oh, Governor Romney, I’m sorry, I thought this room was empty,” America stammered.

“Please, no need to be so formal. Call me Mitt,” said Romney as he gestured America to come sit with him. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just getting a little tired of Obama’s party, and looking for a place too cool down.”

“Mm,” Romney nodded, “I know the feeling. You know I’m planning my own party soon? Much more tasteful and conservative. I think it’ll be a grand old party. I’d like it if you were there with me.” America only now realized how close Romney had gotten to her. This close up, he almost looked human. “You know America, I’ve got binders full of women, but I always had eyes for you.”

“Oh Mitt you’re joking with me.”

“I actually like jokes as well as things that are sort of fun. But right now I want something a little more spontaneous.”

America watched in stunned silence as Romney pulled out his fiscal policies. She had seen Obama’s stimulus package before, but this was something completely different. She was a little afraid it might hurt her. “Oh Mitt, your tax cuts are so… so big!”

“That’s just the 1%, babe.”

“But, don’t you think we need a safety net?”

“Nonsense, my dear. A friend told me that your body has a way of shutting that whole thing down.”

And thus, with some reluctance, America let Romney take her.

The End

-Dolphintail Espinoza

3 Responses to “Magic Underpants: The Mitt Romney Story”

  1. Dolphintail Espinoza November 4, 2012 at 10:15 pm #

    Reblogged this on Sherman Ave.


  1. What To Expect When You’re Not Expecting: A Guide to Surviving the Non-Apocalyptic World « Sherman Ave - January 2, 2013

    […] More than likely, you quit your job and closed all your bank accounts in preparation for The Big One. Perhaps you took a big shit on your supervisors desk, or ran naked through the office to the musical stylings of Huey Lewis and the News. It’s okay, we’ve all been there. But, just as you would prepare for the long years of nuclear winter, so too must you prepare for several months or even years of a stable and non-anarchic society, which means getting a job. If security is what you’re looking for, local factories are always looking for new hires, even better if they produce goods you may need one day to prepare for a new apocalypse. The more adventurous of you could probably take up bounty hunting, or my personal favorite, assassination. The risk is high, but the pay is good, hours adjustable, and you get to put your large assortment of high-powered weaponry to good use. Failing either of those, you could always become a talk radio host, or a Republican politician. […]

  2. Sherman Ave Turns 2!!! « Sherman Ave - January 25, 2013

    […] This year was special. America kicked ass like it was Vanderbilt football unleashed on baby seals. Speaking of ass kickings, remember this guy? […]

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