Government Shutdown. Chapter Two: The Uncertainty.
Previous ‘Chapter’: Government Shutdown – An Eyewitness Report of Anarchy and Mayhem.
Three weeks of relative peace and harmony have passed by on Capitol Hill since the three days of anarchy and mayhem caused by Schumer’s Shutdown for Illegal Aliens over American Citizens.
During this time there was a speech and much applause from one side and the majority of America, while the liberal elite on the other side sucked on sour Mega Warheads and played with their dentures. When President Trumps mentioned amnesty for 1.8 million illegals, millions of viewers watched as Chuck Schumer appeared to lean forward and listen intently. Perhaps this was the unity that the Democrats pretended to want.
Their hopes were dashed before even being raised. Since the President strangled Chuck U Schumer to death with his own tie during the last shutdown while fighting over a half-eaten Big Mac, it should have been obvious that George Soro’s simply lost control of his puppet strings from the balcony. His soulless and now lifeless body quickly jerked back to his stoic position, but not before Nancy Pelosi noticed and wrote his name down on her poop list.
She was very fond of her poop list. It had doodles on it, including a picture of an elephant in a cowboy hat smooshing President Bush. Written along the edge in bright pink ink with multiple asterisks was, “TRUMP IS PRESIDENT!” She had a very hard time keeping that straight, she often thought Bush was still President. So sometimes she would forget, and look at it and laugh. Because the chances of Trump becoming President were zero. She even put money on it at her weekend bridge club in the Hamptons. Those foolish old biddies could laugh all the want, especially Supreme Court Justice Ruth ‘Darth Vader’ Ginsburg. She knew she was right!
A memo exposing the immense corruption and political weaponizing of Obama’s FBI/DOJ was released. But the pillars of heaven and earth refused to shake as half of America had become so accustomed to scandals and deceit from Obama and the Clintons that it was no longer shocking. And the other half was so morally bankrupt they didn’t care so long as it would help their political coup to remove President Trump from office.
But now, the fear and uncertainty of a Government Shutdown begins to spread through the Capitol like a venereal disease in a frat house.
Hundreds of laid off DNC employees huddle around the dumpster fire of Russian Collusion trying to warm themselves. With fundraising at an all-time low, they had been let go in droves with nothing but the fading dream of Hope and Change. Even their letters of recommendation were quickly discovered to be of no use whatsoever, as the waxy and slick crayon that it was written in prevented it from being useful as toilet paper. They sleep in the streets under blankets and tarps that were left over props from the Clinton Foundation’s Fictitious Aid to Haiti charity drives.
As the sun begins to fade and the shadows creep up the sides of buildings, they begin stuffing their clothing with now worthless IOU receipts between Dictators and Hillary’s State Department for warmth. During the day they skitter through D.C., tearing up chunks of asphalt to create potholes that Trump will be blamed for and picking up bottles to turn in for nickels. But with the shutdown looming they began smashing them against walls for jagged and dangerous makeshift weapons. Unfortunately for them, they are especially vulnerable during the night. For without the warmth of the sun, their cold black hearts prevent them from moving quickly. They pray to their atheist gods of Greed, Envy, Hatred, and Power that strength in numbers will keep them safe. But each night, those on the outskirts disappear as they are forced to find real jobs at fast food restaurants.
And as the fear of shutdown draws near, the nights become increasingly dangerous as roving gangs of illegal DREAMER children, emboldened by the failure of their non-elected Congressmen, toddled through the streets babbling ‘Amnesty! Amnesty! Amnesty!’ as they suck on their pacifiers.
At the RNC, the metal doors and shutters, pocketed with bullet holes, RPG shrapnel, and scorch marks from Molotov Cocktails have been battened down and locked in place. Head of RNC, Reince Preibus has an old police car dragged in front of the building, overturned and lit on fire, hoping that the offering of Chaos and Anarchy will subdue the blood lust of the inevitable violent purge from the numerous peaceful protest groups of the left.
In the old Nuclear Bunker deep beneath the RNC, the Never-Trumpers plot in the basement under a single lamp bulb that sways silently above them as the cockroaches skitter in the darkness. Multiple hands grip the indicator as they move it across the Ouij board in search of the common sense and logic that still eludes them. As the final letter is selected, McCain angrily flips over the board as he realizes the word spelled out is, “IDIOTS”. Behind them, the red corded phone rings. They stare at it in silence, wondering what Mitt Romney wants now.
Before, politicians prioritized their shutdown preparations by charging their cell phones. But after Los Angele’s successful launch of the Human Wasteland App, an app that showed where the largest collections of homeless human feces lay in the streets, their phones batteries quickly depleted themselves as Google spammed them with alerts telling them that they lived in the largest collection of human waste in the country.
Now, they checked and double checked that their book shelves and desk could be easily slid to block off the door to their offices. Thanks to Matt Lauer, the door locking buttons that many Congressmen had on their desks had been removed before the #TimesUp movement turned their building into an abandoned and derelict building fit for Detroit or Chicago. A building haunted with the pervy ghosts of Congressmen past and present. They were still trying to get rid of long serving Democrat Senator Robert Byrd’s ghost, with his white Klu Klux Klan sheet, he truly looked like a cartoon ghost and scared many nubile interns away. Cases of water and Mountain House dehydrated entrees are stacked in corners of offices.
Where other Congressmen had their bookshelves filled with first edition books by Karl Marx and Vladmir Lenin, Rand Paul filled his with loaded magazines and wrapped his baseball bat with fresh barbwire. After a radical Bernie Supporter shot up his Republican charity baseball game, and then his radical liberal neighbor attacked him at his home, he had learned his lessons and made sure to never go unarmed again.
Secretary of Defense Offense General Mattis, broke open the seal on a box of grenades and thumbed the edge of his original issue, USMC Ka-Bar knife. The small gashes that represented his many kills were blurred to an unreadable mass on the handle. He strategically placed claymores outside in the hallway and ran the clickers to his desk. He chewed on an unfired .45 cartridge while reading Sun Tzu’s Art of War and prayed for violence to once again cross his path. After 49 years of service and hard abuse, his body was near indestructible and he knew all the communists in hell could never defeat him. He welcomed the challenge, however pitiful it may be.
Through out D.C., Pace Makers struggle to keep their patients alive as Congressmen bicker and conspire to shut down the government, collude with the media, and blame the Republicans for everything.
Everywhere, clocks slowly turn as the deadline looms. The fear and panic grows.