I haven’t done a plastic mayhem episode in quite some time. I believe we are much overdue for one. This one comes to you in the spirit of Brazil. I always thought that Robert DeNiro didn’t deserve his fate, but I can think of somebody else who more than deserves a similar fate.
It was early evening in Scottsdale. The sun was finally low in the sky. Sarah, alone in the Arizona house since she sent Piper packing, had just settled in with her favorite bathrobe, her crunchwrap supreme, and a couple of diet Dr. Peppers.
Sarah needed to console herself, because it was email dump day.
More Dr. Pepper.
Sarah knew that there was nothing much left in those emails after her minions spent two and a half years removing anything that might seriously taint her image.
But she also knew that people were still laughing at her about Paul Revere, and they were picking apart the emails and calling her a petty bitch.
Crunch crunch. slurp slurp.
I’ll show this whole flippin’ lamestream country that I’m better than they are.
What’s that noise?
Flutter flutter, crackle, knock knock.
Hmmm….I can’t imagine that my security guards would let anybody through the gate without letting me know.
I pay those flippin’ guards more than they are worth.
Flutter flutter, crackle, knock knock.
Sarah put down her crunchwrap and decided to go check the door.
I need a butler.
It better not be those Mormons or I’m firing those flippin’ guards.
I swear this stupid state has more flippin’ Mormans than Idaho did, there, when I was there.
Sarah reached the door and peered through the spyhole, but nothing was there. She opened the door.
Bloody flippin’ hell! What is it?
Sarah backed up in panic as a strange sight greeted her eyes.
Security! Security! Where are those flippin’ guards??!!
Aaaackkk! Go away go away!!
In whirled a cyclone of paper, a veritable vortex of spinning sheets.
They swirled around Sarah, fluttering and flapping, slapping at her face.
Help me, help me!
The papers spun furiously, knocking Sarah to the floor. As she was pummeled, she could see that they were emails, her emails, covered with sharpie marks.
Faster and faster they flung themselves at Sarah, slapping her face harder and harder, trying to get up her nose.
Sarah could feel tiny paper cuts on her legs as she flailed to keep the papers out of her mouth.
Flippin’ help me!
The emails swoooped and dove, battering Sarah from all sides.
nooooooo…..!
Down she went amid the flappings of thousands of sheets of emails.
The emails plastered themselves onto Sarah. A crunchwrap supreme landed on her face.
More and more, faster and faster, they piled on.
Sarah couldn’t breath. She had paper in her nose and mouth.
She struggled to free herself from the ever-building mountain of paper.
Flutter, swoop, crackle!
he….lp…
No help for Sarah as the emails swirled in for the kill.
The sun continued to set.
With a last flip flap, the mountain of emails settled on Sarah.
Quiet descended upon the house.
The emails let out a gentle sigh.
And the cosmos rejoiced. Much rejoicing.
Much rejoicing indeed!
Love it! Very clever.
Also cute, too. But do you think Sean Parnell and Sarah Palin are just really good friends? Or more than that? Otherwise why would he and his administration be complicit in illegally releasing personal information of citizens who corresponded with her in her capacity as Governor? And redacting and holding back so much of the rest of her e-mail correspondence? Plasticland Parnell needs to appear and answer for his actions….
I think she made him a deal when she turned over the governorship. Or she has something on him. Or both. Or he’s scared of bus tires.
Ha! The mad trees of Alaska have finally had it! They sacrificed their every fiber to weigh in on what they think of the scourge of our Great Land! Rejoicing and crunch-wrapping is heard around the planet!
Thank you!
Beaten up by her paper trail, love it.
A most appropriate end. Do I dare to hope? Yes I do! Perfect! Thanks, loved it!
Love it. The cactus is an especially nice touch. The teahadist, done in by her own emails. Poetic justice.