The Other McCain

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

OediPOTUS Wrecks: Scene I

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

by Smitty


  1. 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.
  2. Scene I brings in a prophetess with a palindromic name and a chip on her shoulder. Verbal sparring ensues, ending in an accusation.

Still in the Rose Garden.

OediPOTUS Wrecks: Everyone unite behind me! I admit that I’m johnny-come-lately come to this quagmire. I don’t mind being responsible for the cleanup, but I do want the obstructionists to get out of the way so we can clean up the mess.

Let me be perfectly clear: we’re going to have an ex-Presidential Assassination Investigation Czar going over this case with a fine-toothed comb and a magnet. He’ll be reporting to me, so I can make sure that none of the information discovered is distorted by the usual suspects, and goes instead directly to the people.

Whoever is responsible for the death of Jefferson Williams is going down. I will not hesitate to pardon anyone helping to solve the mystery that my incompetent predecessor left for me to solve, even if they’re worried about self-incrimination. My word is more powerful than the 5th Amendment. Oh guilty one: you are pardoned in advance. Merely come forward, help us reach justice, and help the economy so terribly beset by this evil.

Jefferson Williams was an honorable American; not to denigrate my own father, but I would have been proud to call President Williams ‘dad’. Sadly, he had no sons to avenge his demise, so that duty falls to me. As always, I rise to the occasion.

Matthew Olberchrist: I swear it wasn’t me, but I have a suggestion: why not ask the Oracle that pointed out the problem where to find the perpetrator?

OW: Excellent point, but who commands destiny? Surely not one as humble as I.

MO: There is someone, some say a clairvoyant. You do remember your election opponent, Hanah, from the opposition ticket?

OW: Her fame is well known, and I’ve authorized Ramen to send for her. You’d think she’d have had time to heal from the 2008 election and trek here from Alaska by now.

MO: About that old investigation file from Jefferson’s death: it seems rather useless. However, anyone still alive who knows anything should be shaken loose by your proclamation. We should start a fresh round of hearings.

Enter blind Hanah, led by a functionary.

MO: Here is someone whose instincts and knowledge may help.

OW: Hanah, oh ye of the palin-dromic name (heh). They say you know most everything, with the exception of how to win elections. You know the economic situation. You’ve no doubt heard the rumors surrounding this old crime that must be solved before we can turn the corner on this unpleasantness.

If you have any wisdom that you can lend to the problem, I shall thank you in advance for the patriotic help you lend.

Hanah: Looks like I picked the wrong week to go cold turkey on the kickin’ chicken[1]. This ain’t goin’ to go well. Can I just leave?

OW: How ungracious! How can you ignore the plight of your country?

H: Easy. There’s no pickin’ up a turd by the clean end. And that’s about what you got here, mister. I’d rather quit while I’m behind. You brought me here to make fun of me. I was told a serious discussion is why you called me up.

OW: For heaven’s sake, we beg you–

H: Keep begging. When you reach sincerity, heaven may hear. ‘Til then, I’ll keep the misery to myself.

OW: So you do know something, yet you place your feelings above the State? Selfish woman!

H: If I thought there was a point, I’d tell you. What part of “NO” didn’t you get? The N, or the O?

OW: You are so out of line! Can you not grasp the crisis? Are you out of your mind?

H: You callin’ me crazy? Heh, if only you could see yourself.

OW: In my office, you’d be equally upset. We’re awash in crisis, you have information, and you’re not sharing. How does this help?

H: Like it makes a difference. We’re doomed, dude. It’s gonna get us.

OW: What is this “it”?

H: Takin’ the Fifth, bucko. Rage, as if against the machine.

OW: Rage? Why not? I think this is all your doing. You set the whole scenario up, you and henchmen, just to engineer your own sort of coup. Had you eyes, I’d say you killed Jefferson Williams yourself.

H: Oh, really? Since you accuse me, I’ll return the favor. Your own curse comes back to haunt you, for you killed Jefferson Williams.

OW: Oh, “Get thee glass eyes, and, like a scurvy politician, seem to see things thou dost not,” said King Lear, and it applies to you, as well. Should you be allowed to go free, after this hate speech?

H: I am free, in the truth.

OW: Slander! I thought you, rather, a speaker of knowledge. Where did you learn such?

H: From you. I’d have kept my peace, but you made me say it.

OW: Say what? I heard you echo an accusation.

H: Wasn’t it clear the first time?

OW: Again, for the internet audience.

H: I said you are the murderer you seek.

OW: That’s twice!

H: More? Where is this gettin’ us?

OW: Say anything, no one believes your lies.

H: I say you live a life of twisted shame, and you’re blind to your own evil.

OW: Oh, sure. Troll on.

H: No problem, when what I say is true.

OW: If only you knew the truth, you sightless, witless, senseless, mad old crone.

H: That would be you. Mad as a hatter. Soon they’ll all curse you, for that matter.

OW: Look, you have no power. You’re like so many fools trying to question my birth certificate.

H: That’s for sure. Your fate comes from elsewhere. Jimmie crack corn, and I never cared two hoots in the first place. Others do, though.

OW: Who, Ramen?

H: Pshaw. Ramen’s not your problem. You are your problem.

OW: How could I not see Ramen’s hand in all of this? He has been present at every turn, aiding my ascension, and now standing to reap the fortune of my woe.

MO: Both of you are overly passionate right now. How is this helping? Kum-ba-yah, my Lord, kum-ba-yah…

H: You are the President. But that don’t mean the 1st Amendment is a Rodney Dangerfield joke. You mock my disability? I see more clearly than you, bub. Your life is too messed up for Jerry Springer. Do you really know who your parents are? Go ahead. Blame me. Blame Ramen. You put the F in “false”.

OW: OK, I’ve had enough of you. Begone.

H: Wouldn’t have come here in the first place, if I could have avoided it, you clown.

OW: How was I supposed to anticipate you’d act a total fool?

H: Fool? Your parents said I was sane.

OW: Again, my parents. Who were they then, in your wisdom?

H: This day will reveal your father. Break your heart, too.

OW: More facts, less crap! I don’t have time for your conundrums.

H: You won an election talkin’ up your skill at solving them.

OW: Keep up the mockery.

H: Your skill at solving problems made your main one.

[H turns to functionary.]

May I have your hand, please?

OW: Yes, lead this hag from my site.

H: At my age, I can speak my mind to any audience. The murderer of Jefferson Williams is here in DC. He’ll be found rather close to the victim, but that revelation won’t please a soul. He’s a blind man, currently sighted, a beggar with bank, at the moment. He loves his mother with an affection some might call strange.

Let me know later if I got that wrong, and then you can say I should stick to palm reading.

Exit H stage left, OW center


[1] Wild Turkey
Copyright 2010, Christopher L. Smith


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