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Fauntleroy and Flossy – To Shame a Nation


Fauntleroy stood in front of his full length mirror. He looked over at Flossy, “The whole world's eyes are on me now.”

“Then I suggest you change out of that...that uniform.” Flossy fired back.

“Model T’s husband has been a big disappointment. We might have to fire him. He tried to slow down our blitzkrieg plans. I don’t think they will be joining us for Thanksgiving this year. You should have seen how stone cold crazy guy shut him down.”

Flossy flipped the page of her fashion magazine.

“Oh,” Fauntleroy took a few sheets of paper off the counter that held his bank of phones, “could you translate this speech into Russian for me? I want Put-Baby to approve it for me.”

Fauntleroy left the room. He was met in the hall by Connie, who stopped him in his tracks. “Go change out of that uniform.” They walked back into the room.

"But, I feel military. I commandered in chiefed this week."

Connie said, "Turn around. That is a drum major uniform."

He went and changed.

Back in the hall. “It has been a big news cycle time. I called all the people in the country that voted for the losers, ‘Crybabies,’ I guess I told them.” She smiled at her savoir-faire. “The vast majority of the working people who do not live in the large cities and who had no schooling welcome this kind of talk.”* (*This sentence is paraphrased from a Lenin speech.)


Imagined Put-Baby phone call Transcript

Put-Baby - “Why protect public health and the environment. There is no need for regulations. It’s not like a Chernobyl accident can happen. Our plan is to use the poorest minorities to thin each other out in our coordinated wars, so why bother saving them?”

Fauntleroy – “Yes, yes, I see. I will have to get my people to reword that. I mean I already pissed off the guy down under. I may use a page from your playbook and send troops into a neighboring country.” He called over to his chief strategist, “Make a note not to build a wall until I have decided whether to invade Mexico or not. I would hate to have to break through the greatest wall ever built.” His mind returned to the phone call, “Yes, Put-Baby, I’m listening. Yeah, yeah, Texas Tea Tillerman will start his policies to re-route oil into our hands.”

Put-Baby – “Comrade, we have waited for one hundred years for this moment in time. Oh, let us know where the shipments of opium are to be routed out of Afghanistan. Tell Comrade Connie she received a round of applause here at the Politburo when she called those losers, Crybabies, that was perfect.”

Fauntleroy – “Don’t worry about those sanctions – we will leave them in place and not support them. So, do you want all of Iran’s oil, or Iraq’s? What is easier for you?” He hung up the phone and looked over to his chief strategist, “We are on board with them now. Once we start pumping Iranian oil and diverting the cash flow into our campaign fund accounts, we assure our global position.”

They all saw a flash of a billion dollars coming their way and smiled.


Fauntleroy and Flossy are a work of fiction. The events, character assassinations and firms depicted are fictitious. The fictitious author wishes to express thanks to the Altay people, Bashkirs, Balkars, Belarusians, Buryat people, Chechens, Chuvash, Cherkess, Ingushs, Kabardins, Kalmyks, Karachays, Karelians, Khakas, Komi peoples, Mordvin people, Ossetians, Mari people, Russians, Tatars, Tuvinians, Udmurts, Ukrainians, Yakuts, for the part they played in the U.S. election. Negotiations are underway to give you the city of Detroit and the Cleveland Browns as a partial payment.

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— Politico

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