Kickass and House on the bus

Kickass, the doorstop dog, accepts the keeper’s image of the House of Reps as passengers on a runaway bus careening through switchbacks as it hurtles down the side of a steep mountain.

         “Who’s driving?”


         “What about the orange man, wasn’t he driving?”

         “He still is.”

         “But he’s not in the driver’s seat. Nobody is.”

         “It’s been like that since the last switchback when Santos tried to sell the bus to a guy driving a wrecker.

         “One of the crazies wants to drive. But he denies the existence of the wheel and only has experience in demolition derbies.”

         “There’s a big turn coming up. Somebody’s gotta grab the wheel.”

         “Get Boebert, she likes to grab.

         “Too late. We’re going to careen off the road and crash into the canyon.”

         “Aren’t we already in the canyon?”

         “Only in the minds of the citizens.”

         “Citizens? What are they?”

         “Political roadkill. Don’t think about them.”

         “Isn’t it dangerous for us to be hurtling to our destruction?”

         “We’re all considered pretty much dead weight anyway, so what’s to lose?”

         “I still think we need a driver.”

“Yeah, one with ambulance experience.”


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