The Other McCain

"One should either write ruthlessly what one believes to be the truth, or else shut up." — Arthur Koestler

OediPOTUS Wrecks: Finale

Posted on | December 1, 2009 | Comments Off on OediPOTUS Wrecks: Finale

by Smitty


In the Prologue, a Rose Garden press conference announces a connection between the tanked economy to a monstrous evil pertaining to the death of the 42nd POTUS.
Scene I brings in a prophetess with a palindromic name and a chip on her shoulder. Verbal sparring ensues, ending in an accusation.
Scene II has Ramen the Chief of Staff trying to clear himself as a suspect. The question of the death of the 42nd POTUS looms. His widow, Cthulia, the Secretary of State under OediPOTUS, arrives to try to defuse the situation.
Scene III has an old family friend come to announce the death of the man who was a father to OediPOTUS. The news brings little comfort, as unsustainable tragedy begins a methodical turn to farce.
In the final installment, the mysterious Rosor arrives to tie everything up, in his fashion.
OediPOTUS enters, paces
OediPOTUS Wrecks: When will this doctor arrive?
Sandy Hamburger and Esarhaddon Cyphre enter
Sandy Hamburger: Your family doctor, Esarhaddon Cyphre, Mr. President.
OW: You’re related to Ramen? I guess I never made the connection.
Esarhaddon Cyphre: Brothers, yes. We’re everywhere. “You can’t de-Cyphre the world,” as we like to joke. But this is not the time for stand-up. The news is terrible. Kerry Kennedy has passed. My condolences, Mr. President.
OW: Thank you. But I didn’t drag you here for an obituary. Sandy has stated that you know something important about my birth. From where did I come?
EC: Ah, that detail. This is not easy.
OW: Indeed. My entire worldview is upended. I really don’t know where I came from, where I am, or where I should go.
EC: I understand. This isn’t easy. What I can tell you is that we took an embryo from the fertility clinic that originally came from–
Cthulia enters
Cthulia: Mr. President, I have come to proffer my resignation. I can no longer serve in your cabinet. This looks completely disloyal, given that the international situation is as bad a shambles as the domestic. However, with your sudden focus on ancient history, and unwillingness to heed wise counsel, there really isn’t anything more to accomplish.
OW: No problem. I only needed you for the votes, never trusted you fully, and have been seeking to undermine you at every opportunity. Please go on, Dr. Cyphre.
EC: Well, since she’s here, I’ll announce that the embryo implanted in Olga Kennedy was removed from a British fertility clinic, and that one of the provisions of Kerry Kennedy’s will was that you be made aware that Cthulia Williams is, in fact, your mother.
Here: puke into this.
Cthulia screams, exits, leaving OediPOTUS heaving into a wastebasket
OW: Ohgodohgodohgod, but…I didn’t kill Williams, did I? How can this inconceivable thing be happening?
Enter Rosor
Rosor: OediPOTUS, you ignorant slut. You have managed to destroy everything. One derives a foolproof plan; the universe produces a bigger fool.
I needed a moron to accomplish my task of destroying the US economy, in service of the goal of a unified world government. Jefferson Williams was the seed moron, as a father and President. Yet that Vast Right Wing Conspiracy kept Pettifogger from winning the election in 2000. However, Sphinxor proved quite the silicon boob when he was in office: obvious; defiant of everything, including gravity. The consolation party for Pettifogger was to be the time I revealed the grand design to both of you.
You managed not only to be late to the soirée, but to kill your own sire in a feat of vehicular manslaughter. Bravo. Manipulating the investigation to keep you out of trouble was a challenge. Brainwashing you to forget being fished out of the water, and depositing your bewildered butt in Newport proved so trivial as to be sad.
OW: What are you TALKING ABOUT?
R: I made you. Every bit of your political rise was due to me. Every person who advised you, every event that seemed due to your supposed brilliance, every tragic boo-boo that seemed to occur to your foes, is entirely due to my Machiavellian machinations. Roughly the only thing I could not do is prevent you from destroying yourself as a result of your own arrogance and incompetence. You are fired.
OW: Liar! I am the President of the United States! I used all of the tools of Alinsky to beat my foes as fairly as anyone else! Only the Congress can remove me, and I’ll bury them in peaches before any impeaches. I’m sick of your phone calls, giving me orders all the time. I’m the PRESIDENT. You can’t take this office. No, you can’t take that away from me!
Guards appear and move toward OW to take him under control. He struggles.
R: Oh, dear. That fragile mind has snapped. *sigh* Who did we put on the ticket as Vice President, again? Bring in that bit of Folderol.


Comments are closed.