Washington Horror Blog

SEMI-FICTIONAL CHRONICLE of the EVIL THAT INFECTS WASHINGTON, D.C. To read Prologue and Character Guide, please see www.washingtonhorrorblog.com, updated 6/6//2017. Follow Washington Water Woman on Twitter @HorrorDC ....

Monday, November 20, 2017


Things were slowly getting back to normal in the White House now that Donald Trump had returned from his long trip abroad:  he was watching television, Tweeting that black athletes belonged in prison, sexually harassing the housekeeping staff, planning how he would spend all the money he would save in taxes if Congress passed the tax scam bill, doing self-congratulatory Cabinet meetings, eating a lot of ice cream, phoning Bannon, ignoring Barron, and arguing with the ghost of Nelson Rockefeller.

"I'm NOT Nelson Rockefeller!" protested Ghost Dennis (who had been murdered during the final year of the Nixon Presidency).  "You can't just keep ignoring Puerto Rico!  Why don't you do a Thanksgiving humanitarian gesture for them?"

"Nobody cares about Puerto Rico!" retorted Trump.  "If those lazy Spics don't know how to turn the lights back on, it's not my fault!"

"Just forget for a minute whose fault it is:  those people are moving to Florida and will vote Democrat there next year!"

"I like Vice-Presidents who don't die!  You're a loser!"

"Mr. President, do you understand that twelve nations signed the Trans-Pacific Partnership WITHOUT the United States?  Not only did you come home WITHOUT a better deal than Obama had negotiated, you came home with NO deal, and strengthened the ascendancy of China in the entire Pacific region."

"China loves me!"

"Of COURSE China loves you!  You ignore their humans rights abuses, and they're stronger than they've ever been!"

"Go away!  It's time for my cheeseburger!"

A mile away, triple agent Charles Wu was having a very different conversation after returning from his parallel trip through Asia.

"Thank you for getting those boys out of prison in China," said the Assistant Deputy Administrator for Carnage.  "That was huge!"

"Are you okay?" asked Wu, watching the bleary-eyed ADAfC shoving his Froggy Bottom cheeseburger into his face like a starving man.  "Are you having trouble sleeping?  I have a business partner in Chinatown who could help you with some herbs--"

"No, no, gotta stay sharp," replied the ADAfC (who had recently started using Ambien and a not-great, but very convenient, sex robot to fall asleep at night).  "Tell me about North Korea," he asked, before taking a huge gulp of his seventh Coke of the day.

"We've bought some time, but Un is extremely unhappy with the barrage of insults."  (The ADAfC nodded, shoving french fries into his mouth.)  "Designating North Korea a state sponsor of terrorism is also not helping.  (The ADAfC shrugged.)  "He also keeps saying that Iran was tricked into giving up nuclear weapons so that the U.S. could bomb it with impunity."

"That's not gonna happen," said the ADAfC, gulping more Coke.

"Why don't you have some of my salad," said Wu, pushing his plate over, but the ADAfC shook his head.  "Why are you so sure that Iran will not get bombed?  The Saudis are blockading Qatar and bombing the hell out of Yemen, and the U.S. is ignoring it."

The ADAfC exhaled deeply.  "Because Mad Dog Mattis doesn't want to see a million Iranian troops pouring over the border into Iraq and Syria."

"Are you sure about that?"

The ADAfC said nothing, instead reaching into his pocket to pull out a new business card for Wu.  "I have a new title, and I wrote some new cellphone numbers on the back."

Wu examined the card, indicating that the ADAfC was now the Assistant Deputy Administrator for Purging the Deep State at State.

"You are the Deep State at State!" laughed Wu.

"Don't you ever say that!" exclaimed the ADAfPtDSaS.  "I'm a patriot!"

"It was just a joke, man!" said Wu, reaching across the table to pat the hand of the ADAfPtDSaS.  "You're the most patriotic man I've ever met!" he added, snapping back to a cool, collected demeanor.

Meanwhile, over at the brand new Museum of the Bible (in a private room decorated with Adam and Eve wallpaper, snakeskin-covered chairs, and apple-shaped light fixtures), it was the annual Thanksgiving luncheon for the very patriotic Holier Than Thou Caucus--and Congressman Herrmark was terrified of what he was hearing.

"It was FrankenFranken was the one grabbing women by the pussy!"

"He grabbed an ass!  That's not a pussy!"

"Same difference!"

"Why do you believe Franken's accusers and none of Trump's?"

"You may as well ask why ducks fly south in November!"

"A lot of them don't fly anymore, because of global warming.)

"Look, I have a 14-year-old daughter, and I'm more worried about this Roy Moore fellow.  I do not want him coming to D.C.!"

"Oh, just keep your daughter at home and out of the malls!  With Moore's help, I bet we can get a Ten Commandments statue put into the Capitol Rotunda."

"Are you out of your mind?!  He will destroy the Holier Than Thou Caucus!  All we need is one scandal, and we're toast!"

"There will be no scandal!  He's a Baptist!"

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean!?  You think Pentecostals have more scandals?!"

"I didn't say that!"

"What do you think?"

Congressman Herrmark did not notice all eyes had turned to him.  He was lost in thought about Mia, the girl he had brought back from Asia and kept in his house for awhile until she was taken away from him.  Those were the happiest days of his life!  His sweet Mia!  Why didn't the world understand how nice it was to have a budding flower in the midst of the ugly, sordid world of politics?  Somebody snapped their fingers in front of his face.

"Huh?  What?"

"What do you think?"

"The real problem is zombies," replied Congressman Herrmark, and the room erupted in laughter.

"The real problem is Uranium One!" cried Attorney General Jeff Sessions, not far away--entering the office of Justice Department attorney Atticus Hawk and slamming the door behind him.  "It's Clinton-Russia!  Not Trump-Russia!  And certainly not ME!"

"Absolutely, General Sessions," replied Hawk.  (This was his default reply to the AG's rants.)

"Where's the snitch?!" demanded Sessions--who clearly had no idea that it was Hawk himself who had leaked to ABC News that Robert Mueller had requested DOJ documents related to the AG's Trump-Russia "recusal" and the firing of James Comey.

"I really can't say," replied Hawk.  "It's hard to even recall who is at what meeting, let alone who has even read certain emails before deleting them."

Sessions screwed up his eyes suspiciously, then rejected the idea that this loyal employee from a good [WASP] family could possibly be mocking him.  "I declare, I am tired of my name being dragged through the mud with these Twits!"

"The Tweets?"

"What are you gonna do about this?!"

"I'll set up some more Twitter accounts and--"

"The snitch!  I want you to find that lily-livered snitch!"

"Yes, sir, General Sessions!  It's just that I was working on your plan to take money away from Sanctuary Cities.  You said you wanted to stick it to them between Pearl Harbor Day and Christmas."

"Oh," said the A.G.  "Alright, then, I'll assign Sanctuary Cities to somebody else."

As he saw Jeff Sessions exit his office, the snitch smiled broadly for the first time in months.  Now I can take the rest of the week off!

Billionaire-funded SuperPACs buy 
death and taxes...for somebody else.


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