“I can’t seem to shake them,” Fauntleroy said into his camouflage phone. “I screamed ‘Wire Tap’ which was a key Google word. That should have done it, but they are on my tail like Colonel Pappy Boyington or one of his Black Sheep Squadron on the hunt for a renegade Zero. You have any ideas?” There was a pause.
“You Americans are so new at this spinning the news. I will release news that Hillary Clinton and all of her staff visited my home on the Black Sea for an all expenses paid two weeks vacation, while soliciting campaign funds for her presidential library. That should douse all the Russian connection flames. Maybe I will throw in that the former president was on the payroll of the KGB while he was growing up in Kenya. You Americans can’t tell the truth from a lie.” Putt-Baby put his hand over the mouthpiece, “They will know the truth when our troops land in Connecticut.”
A Russian general loaded down with so many, military medals he could barely stand straight, smiled. “Our MEGs are ready whenever you say the word. North Korea has agreed to launch an attack on Pearl Harbor at your command. We can be in Paris by April."
Putt-Baby removed his hand from the mouthpiece. “My friend, is there anything else I can do for you? When are you and your staff coming to visit us again?”
“Sorry, Putt-Baby, I have to go. Chat later.” Fauntleroy put down the phone. “How long have you been standing there?” Banshi stood with red eyes glaring.
“I told you I wanted to be in the room next time you spoke with my Uncle Putt-Baby. Do I have to get Con Con Conway in here and take care of you?” It sounded like a threat.
Fauntleroy sheepishly, looked along the walls to see if Con Con Conway was wearing body paint that blended with the wallpaper.
The red phone rang, “Yes, there are some Senators who are not going along with the new Pilfer, Pillage, and Plunder Healthcare plan. I spent days writing and plagiarizing and then polarizing the deep, deep, thoughts, about what I think. What are we going
to do? I just need someone to help me. My entire future, depends on my handlers getting what they want. I might end up as a Walmart greeter otherwise.” It was Fauntleroy’s turn to put his hand over the mouthpiece, “It’s the Little whiny PR crying how he needs me. He needs me, I just love hearing those words.”
He spoke again into the red phone. “Listen, I told the people they could keep some of that stuff that was in there. Did we keep any of the stuff?”
The Little PR, thought a moment. “We kept the word “Care.” Then he laughed, “As in ‘We don’t care.” The phone went dead.
This is a work of fiction. No oligarchs, tyrants, or despots were consulted in the production of this fictitious writing. Those seeking reason, logic, solace or consolation may experience momentary bouts of depression anxiety and madness. If symptoms occur, seek remedy from any and all legal stimulants carried at the BevMo near you. Continued feelings of paralysis may be relieved by helping a thousand of your neighbors to register to vote.
All opinions are those of the author. False flags, alternate facts, supposition, reflection, calculations of money laundering schemes were located on the Internet where everything is about Truth, Justice, and the American Way, so help me, that’s the way I always heard it should be.
For those of you who had some dreams, they were clouds in your coffee, clouds in your coffee, oh-wait, I have derailed….
The Washington Pester
At a café in downtown Washington, D.C. Bob Barestones was asked to pass the coffee creamer. Though it was late in the day, Carl Woodstock was still operating on coffee to keep going.
“Carl, I think I have another angle.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” Bob was eating dry meatloaf. The Washington Pester did not pay reporters what they used to pay them.
“The Russians are using loan forgiveness to get what they want out of the administration. If we can find out who funded the president’s construction projects around the world,” he paused, “we can show the trail of money right to the people that are operating him now.”
Carl stared at his friend. “So, how do we do that?”
“Well, there are two sides to all these transactions. We won’t get anything from this side. We have to look to the Red Menace. Don’t people in debt have to pay interest? Maybe we can find out who is getting the interest. We know the oligarchs, we must begin to find out all we can about were they have been and when. And if any of the crime family where there at the same time. Let's start with Deutsche Bank AG, see which oligarchs hold money with them and then find someone inside. Someone with our point of view on the world.”