The Peace Moonbeam Chronicles

Scooter Goes To Hell

April 25, 2008

Yonkers, New York

OK, this was a weird week.

Scooter was totally despondent over being recently fired by Senator Obama. Drinking wine coolers like they were water, he became so obnoxious and surly I was ready to knock the snot out of him. At Cracker Barrel the other night he knocked an old lady into the ceramic cookie jars as he tried to get in front of her. When she protested, he smacked her across the face with one of those big strips of taffy, and got both of us ejected.

I decided the best thing for him to do was channel that negative energy into some positive protest, and as luck would have it, one of the most radical conservatives in the whole world had just arrived in New York - Pope Benedict XVI. We were off to Yonkers where we planned to picket the Pontiff at a big prayer bash/youth rally at St. Joseph Seminary.

We arrived early to get a good place on the sidewalk, and set up our pro-choice and pro-gay marriage signs. While we waited for the Pope to arrive, Scooter drank heavily and shouted anti-Pope slogans while I took a nap. Pretty soon the place was jammed with a bunch of hyperactive well-groomed Catholic kids and a bunch of news reporters.

Finally, at around 4:15 about a zillion police motorcycles roared up, followed by the glorified parade float that is the "Pope-mobile." As the Pope and his bodyguards came through the crowd, an extremely drunken Scooter hopped around and screamed like a maniac. Suddenly, in the midst of his profanity-laced rant, Scooter gagged a couple times then spewed like a pink volcano, finally collapsing in a fetid heap at the Pontiff's satin slippers.

What happened next was the weird part: the Pope pushed aside his bodyguards, fell to his knees next to Scooter, and placing his crucifix on Scooter's forehead, started chanting some Latin gibberish. Good grief, he thought Scooter was possessed! After thinking about it for a second I realized the old guy might be on to something. After several minutes of pious exhortations, Scooter slowly blinked open his eyes, looked up at the Pope with a sedate smile, then kicked the Pontiff in the nuts with both feet! Yikes!

Needless to say, the Pope's bodyguards beat Scooter unmercifully, then turned him over to the Yonkers police who continued to pound him with a spirited fervor usually reserved for pedophiles and mass murderers. Scooter's bail was set at $500K, and the whole story was stifled at the request of the Vatican.

All in all, we've maybe had more effective protests, but few this dramatic. It was a good day.

Damage Control

April 18, 2008

Somewhere in Pennsylvania

Wow, what a week! Who would guess everyone would go so crazy over Senator Obama's comments about the middle class "clinging to religion and guns" in their bitterness over the economy? I suppose the answer to that question would be "everybody." Even a retarded yak knows you don't diss the average hick American's guns or God, but what can I say, for all his charisma and charm, Barack Hussein basically has the IQ of a piece of toast. Fortunately, one only has to look at George Bush to see that intelligence isn't an absolute prerequisite to be President of the United States.

Our group quickly mobilized to shunt the negative effects of our candidate's well-meaning-but-moronic comments. The first thing I did was bring in my longtime friend and assistant, Scooter Van Neuter. Scooter's job was to put together a small town meeting in rural Pennsylvania where Senator Pinhead could interact in a folksy way with regular middle class Americans, thus showing he wasn't a foreign-born, Harvard educated, blue-blooded elitist politician.

Last night the Senator and I arrived at the town hall in Frackville, Pennsylvania. Scooter had done a good job selecting this little backwater dirthole and also notifying the press - you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a reporter. We entered through the back door and Scooter took the Senator into the bathroom for makeup and a change of wardrobe. I went into the meeting room and took a seat.

Once my eyes adjusted to the glaring news lights, I about wet myself: The small group of townspeople Scooter had rounded up appeared to be illegal immigrants and transients! Most were holding Bibles, wearing guns, and all were dressed like they just stepped out of Hee Haw. Holy Moses smell the roses! When Senator Obama made his entrance wearing nothing but overalls, an NRA cap, and a huge rhinestone-studded crucifix, I almost barfed. While I understand the symbolism Scooter was going for, the outfit pretty much made Obama look like a hillbilly pimp, if there could be such a thing. Everything went downhill from there.

Thankfully, the meeting lasted just ten minutes, as only two "townspeople" could speak English and they were both drunk and belligerent. Senator Hayseed gave a quick speech about his childhood "growing up in the country," where his only companions were "My trusty six-shooter and Jesus Christ." The whole thing was a freaking disaster and we got the hell out of there as fast as possible. Just outside of town Hussein fired Scooter and me, then left us on the side of the road holding five dollars and an NRA cap.

Frankly I guess we shouldn't complain, we signed on for "change" and walked away with folding money, which is more than we'd probably get from a Republican.

Worship With Barack

April 11, 2008

Chicago, Illinois

I have to say, it's nice being back to work! I owe Senator Barack Obama a huge debt of gratitude for putting me on his staff as his personal assistant - I'm incredibly jazzed!

At first I was unsure which Democratic candidate I was going to support. Being an ardent feminist, my obvious choice was Senator Clinton as she's a little more like a female than Obama, but Barack's vague similarity to an Afro-American trumped that, what with all the white guilt I rightfully carry. Plus I really like the idea of "change" and a "new tomorrow," and "uniting the country," and other upbeat stuff he says that makes me feel good. Sayings like that clearly illustrate he's the most qualified candidate to lead this country through troubled times, and on top of that he's got a beautiful smile!

My first day on the job with Senator Obama was last Sunday, when I accompanied him and his bitchy wife to their quaint South Side Chicago church. The Obamas, like myself, don't much care for the old-time judgmental Jesus, but are just crazy about the new enlightened Black Jesus who loves abortion but hates America, especially ruthless slave masters like George Bush. Amen to that!

Even though I was the only white individual in the church, I felt right at home except for the comments of "Kill whitey" and "Whitey must die," etc. (I don't hold that against the minister, he was just making a sermon point). The only real negative thing was the incident in the ladies room where at knifepoint I was force to give "reparations" consisting of my purse, watch, and shoes. Oh well, at least now I feel like I've done my part to undo the injustice of slavery :)

All in all, I think the service brought me closer to God, but also pretty much made me hate myself. I don't think I'll go again.

Next time: Report from the campaign trail.