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By Lucious P. Hoggphatt
Hit was a miserable rainy afternoon, an me an mah
conservative
 friend
Earnest Lee Meanswell, the local Sinnsboro attorney, was down to the local
watering hole seein how fast we could get to the bottom of the barrel. His
medical marijuana case had been deferred until he could find a witness
what could remember anything relevant, an Ah was waitin fo mah guv’ment
subsidy
 check
to arrive at the post office. Ah had jest ordered another two shots of
Wild Turkey 101 fo us, when one o them talking head shows on CNN came on
the TV over the bar. They was a chatterin on and on about that piggy-lookin
feller what works fo King George II, an how his seats getting all hotted
up with this heya CIA thang.
“Lawd Gawd,” Earnest says, an Ah figured he had jest
sucked down that Wild Turkey, but he was still a holdin it in his hand.
“Ah done had me about enough of this Karl Rove bashin. Ah sweah, the
Liberal media jest won’t let a good man do his jawb.”
“Earnest,” Ah says, “do you-all have any idear whut it
is y’all is talkin about?”
“Lawd Gawd, Lucious ,” he says, “they’s makin a
somethin outta a nuthin, jest liken they always a doin. Why, if’n anythang,
this heya Rove is a whistle blower, a tryin to steer the Liberal media
away frum writin a fictitious story.”
Ah couldn’t get that Wild Turkey down into me fast
enough.
“Earnest,” Ah says, “if Karl Rove is a whistle blower,
that must mean that Jeff Gannon is a whistle.”
He choked a little on that one, spewin some o that warm
Kentucky bourbon onto the bar.
“What are you-all sayin, Lucious?”
“Let’s ferget about his personal preferences,” Ah says,
“an let’s try to remember this: we are at wah, ain’t we, with them global
gee-hadists. And whut this feller has gone and done is tantamount to
treason, whether he’s broken the actyal letter o the law or not.”
“Look here,” he says, “the president done sed he wus
gonna fahr anyone in his administration if’n they’s committed uh crime, an
Ah have complete confidence in the man.”
“Well,” Ah says, “I reckon that makes you one of the 25
percent what believes that mound o horse plop. Listen heya, weren’t but a
few months ago this same president sed he wus a gonna fahr anyone what had
anythang TO DO with leakin th information, not anyone what was convicted
of any crime.”
“That’s jest a word game you Liberals likes to play,”
he says, as if someone other
 than
King George II had actyally sed it. “The president says he wants to git to
th bottom of it, an Ah believes thet.”
“Earnest, if’n th President of the United States wanted
to git to the bottom of anything other than another eight-ball of white
dust, alls he would hafta do would be to walk down the hall and ask Porky
fo hisself.”
“Lawd Gawd,” he says, waving down the barmaid fo
another round, “Ah don see what all the big deal is about. Rove didn’t
NAME anybody. He jest said ‘Joe Wilson’s wife’ was uh CIA oprative. An,
hells bells, she’s jest one li’l ol gal. We gots plenty mo where she come
from. An, besides, Joe Wilson is jest cryin in his beer ‘cause Kerry lost
th election.”
Ah told the barmaid she’d better make mine a double.
“Earnest,” Ah says, “fust of all, the law don’t say
nothing about ‘namin,’ but about ‘identifyin,’ and if’n thet ain’t
identifyin Ah don know what is. An, in case you done fogot, Joe Wilson was
a Republican, with letters of commendation from King George I and former
Secretary of State James Baker fo his service prior to and during the fust
Gulf Wah. He only got on the Kerry bandwagon ‘cause o what they done to
his wife.”
The shots arrived and we both made short work of them,
chasin em back with cool draft beers.
“Futhah mo,” Ah says, “hit wasn’t jest that Valerie
Plame got outted as uh CIA oprative, but also the front company she
‘worked’ for. Do you-all know what that means?”
Earnest set there a thankin about it fo about as long
as Ah could stand to watch, sorta like lookin at paint dryin, until Ah
couldn’t wait no longer fo all his frayed little neurons to fahr, so Ah
says, “That means thet any other oprative what ‘worked’ there has also
effectively been outted. That means a whole entire network of opratives
has been compromised. An anyone they ever came in contact with, in every
country in the world, is probably layin in a
 shaller
grave with a bullet hole in the back o they hed. An all this at a time
when we are at wah.”
The room spun a little bit when Ah thumped mah empty
shot glass against the bar, but Ah steadied mahself with one hand and lit
up a Dunhill to take the edge off.
“Well, hells bells,” Earnest says. “Sholy no one in
this administration would do nothing like that if’n she had been workin on
anythang important.”
“Naw,” Ah says, pushin mahself up and headin out to
check mah P.O. box, “sholy not. She was only workin on trackin the sale
and distribution of WMDs. An since we know they don’t exists anywheres we
look fo um, Ah reckon we ain’t got nothing to worry about.”
Ah ain’t fo sho, but as Ah was walkin out th door, Ah
thank Ah heard him mutter something like, “Why do you hate America.” Ah
also thank I smelt the pungent essence of Earnest settin flame to th last
of th vital evidence in his medical marijuana case. |
