Open Tummler 07/19/16
Submitted by hecate on Tue, 07/19/2016 - 4:45am
Day One of the Republican National Convention, it has now passed into history. Which has firmly rejected it. However, as no Mexicans or Muslims were actually killed on stage, this must be accounted a Victory, and one for all Mankind.
But killing Mexicans and Muslims, that was certainly the theme of the evening. The speaking schedule was clogged, like a larded-up artery, with: (1) Muslim-murdering serial killers, primarily of the waterhead variety, associated with the Navy Seepholes; and (2) various people claiming their relatives had been foully murdered by "illegal immigrants," deaths which must be avenged by either deporting all the Mexicans, or burning them in big bonfires out on the open plain.
It is true that one on-stage death was only narrowly averted. That was when the Cleveland fire marshal intervened to prevent Willie Robertson, The Hairball's fellow television-salesman, from, as part of his prayerful presentation, preparing for those assembled
one of his family's favorite recipes: Barbecued Negro, Stuffed With Waterfowl.
The fire marshal next ixnayed a proposed last-minute addition to the program, insisted upon by The Hairball himself: an on-stage cross-burning. This was intended both to honor The Hairball's father, Fred, the noted Klansman, and also as a defiant response to Republican strategist Rick Wilson's characterization of the convention: "On Earth 2, you'd be showing the Republican Party isn't this stupid white boys' club. But The Hairball has rejected everybody who's not in the stupid white boys' club. At this point, we might as well have a giant cross burning out front."
The fire marshal's dousing of both the Negro-barbecue, and the cross-burning, this sent The Hairball into one of his patented frenzies. He was espied raging around backstage, fulminating about "needless regulations" and "political correctness," then getting on the phone with someone back in New York, a certain "Fat Tony," instructing this Tony personage to seize the fire marshal off the street, take him to some place quiet, and there "pound him into porcelain."
"I want you to make him into a toilet!" The Hairball heaved. "So I can shit in his mouth!"



