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My Dream of The Next Debate   by Andy Peth

8/12/2015

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Picture
We all have dreams of how the next GOP Debate should go.  Here’s mine:

Moderator:  “Governor Walker, we’ll start with you.  Please describe what it’s like to be so boring.”

Walker:  “Well, it would take a while...can I have extra time?”

Moderator:  “No you cannot.  Senator Rubio, can you explain why Governor Walker is so boring?”

Rubio:  “Well, it would take a while...”

Moderator:  “Please, take all the time you need.”

Rubio:  “Okay, for starters—” (cell phone rings) “Excuse me…Honey, now’s not a good—what?  You what?  But…but…wait, how much?  Okay, thanks.”  (he hangs up)  “Uh…I’m afraid I have to drop out…I was just sold…to Donald Trump.” 

(Rubio bows his head and sheepishly begins walking off stage.  Trump grins wickedly)

Trump:  “Sheesh, I’ve paid more for a good suit.  Hey Marco, teach the missus to negotiate, okay?”

Rubio:  (turns back, without looking up)  “Yes.”

Trump:  “Yes?”

Rubio:  “Yes, Dark Lord Master.”

(long, awkward silence)

Trump:  “You may go.”

Rubio:  “Thank you, Dark Lord Master.”

(Rubio exits)

Walker:  (looking at Trump)  “You’re mean!”  (looking at audience)  “This makes me sad inside!”

Moderator:  “Thank you, Governor.  Senator Cruz, do you have any comment?”

Cruz:  “My concern is this:  How can Donald Trump be leading every GOP poll, when virtually no Republicans anywhere admit they support him?”

Trump:  “Human nature, pal.  No one admits what brings them the most pleasure.”

Cruz:  “So you’re saying—”

Trump:  “That’s right, pal.  I’m that shadowy side of you…the side you keep hidden…the side locked away in the dark chambers of your soul.” (he starts swiveling his hips, Elvis-style)  “Give in to the Dark Side.”

Fiorina:  “Please stop that.”

Walker:  “I have a Dark Side?  Does it hurt?”  (looking at audience)  “This makes me sad inside!”

Fiorina:  “Seriously, ewww.  Just…ewww.”

Trump:  “Is that you, Carly?  I hear you did well in the minors.  Had there been an audience, you could have gotten a slow clap.”

Paul:  “Are you people finished?  ‘Cause I have something I want to say!”

Christie:  “Here it comes…”

Paul:  “Chris Christie is a warmongering, liberty-killing fascist!  And he has drones following me around!”

Trump:  “Actually, those are mine.”

Christie:  “You know, Rand, you can blow hot air about these things when you’re sitting in a subcommittee, or smokin’ weed in a college dorm—”

Paul:  “What makes you think I smoke weed?” 

Christie:  “—or playing on that swingset in the park—”

Paul:  “What?”

Christie:  “—or sitting in your Mommy’s lap while she reads to you about unicorns and pixie dust—”

Paul:  “Get to the point!”

Christie:  “Sure…what was the topic?”

Paul:  “You tell me, General Patton!”

Christie:  “Doesn’t matter, hippie!  You sixties rejects infuriate me!”

Carson:  “Can…I…help?”

Christie:  “Sure!  Make John Lennon here take a shower!  He smells like Panama!”

Carson:  “Notice…the…slow…rhythmic…pace…of…my…voice…”

Christie:  “What?  What’s happening?”

Carson:  “You…feel…calm…”

Christie:  “I feel calm.”

Carson:  “You…feel…happy…”

Christie:  “Mommy, is that you?  Can I take Skippy and go play in the river?”

Carson:  “You…feel…regret…”

Christie:  “No Skippy!  Don’t try to save me!  Stay away from the waterfall!” 

Carson:  “Express…your…sadness…”

Christie:  (sniffling) “Oh Skippy, why did you have to be so brave?”

Carson:  “…through…dance…”

(Christie starts dancing about, mournfully)

Trump:  “Weak-minded fool!  Only a pushover could fall for this!”

(Bush is dancing about)

Trump:  “Your Jedi mind tricks won’t work on me, boy!”

Carson:  “These…are…not…the…droids…you’re…looking…for…"

Trump:  “Of course they’re not!  Why am I writing you this check?”

Walker:  “Umm…is this all performance art?  Am I supposed to understand this?”

Paul:  “It would take a lot of weed…soothing, beautiful weed…”

Walker:  “That’s not fair!  I’m too boring to smoke weed!”

Fiorina:  “I…I can’t take this.  I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Jindal:  “No you aren’t!  We’re arranged in a straight line—”

Fiorina:  “Bobby, not you too—”

Jindal:  “—unless, of course, you’re speaking globally…then you’re surrounded…do you want one of Rand’s brownies?  I can hear colors!”

Fiorina:  “You imbeciles!  You all realize the Moderator left, don’t you?”

Walker:  “Did I do that?  I’m sorry.”

Paul:  (looking in his pocket)  “Oh weed, you’re the only one who understands me.  Soon, my friend.  We’ll be together soon…”

Trump:  “Ha!  The moderator left because she can’t take the truth!”  (he resumes swiveling his hips)

Cruz:  “Haven’t you ever heard of purity?  Integrity?  Honor?”

Trump:  “Do those sell?  Maybe I’ll borrow yours sometime.”

Fiorina:  “Ewwwwww!!!”

Trump:  “Quit complaining, sweetheart.  Sheesh, you remind me of whoever my current wife is.”

Fiorina:  “That’s it!”  (she storms off stage)

Cruz:  “Yep, I’ve had enough!”  (he storms off)

Paul:  “Yeah, I need some alone time!”  (he races off, happily)

(nearly everyone else walks off as well)

Trump:  “Another flawless debate.  Not a single policy detail.  If loving me is wrong, I’ll do it anyway!” 

(he struts off the stage)

(Alone, off to one side, Walker looks forward with a confused expression.  Slowly, his hips start to swivel)

Walker:  “No!  Make it stop!  Oh, why is the Dark Side so seductive?!”


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