After the recording of Senator Wastrel T. Porkbarrel, E=MC2 decided to set up their video and audio equipment in their secret lair of tripartisan collaboration and film themselves to see if it would be worthy to post on YouTube. The following transcript came from one of the recordings:
“What are you doing home so early?” M asked C2 as C2 entered the secret liar.
“I quit my job as a cubicle monkey at the local petting zoo,” C2 replied, setting a fishing pole against the wall.
“What? Why? And what’s with the fishing pole?”
“Well, while I was flinging accounting poo at the project managers, I overheard a co-worker talking about how all these fairies that voted for Obama are taking his hard earned money so they can live the easy life and fish. So I figured, heck, I don’t want to work if I don’t have to, so I decided to do like these mythical voting-faeries do and quit my job so I can live off Bob-Jim’s paycheck like them.”
M’s jaw hit the table he was sitting at with an audible thud as C2 went and grabbed a beer from the fridge.
“Umm…how did you get the fishing pole?” asked M.
“Department of Fish and Wildlife. I had them put it on Bob-Jim’s tab.”
C2 went back to his fishing pole, picked it up and headed back out saying, “If you need me, I’m going to be down by the river fishing.”
A few hours later, C2 returned to the secret lair soaked head-to-toe, with an empty bucket, an empty bottle of beer, and the fishing pole.
“How was the fishing?” asked M.
“Man, fishing stinks. The whole casting the line thing started to seem as boring and repetitious as work after a while.”
“How long did it take you to figure that out?”
“About 15 minutes. But then I figured that these freeloading voter faeries probably don’t have to worry about that since they’re living an easy life. So, I found a nearby bucket, went in the river, and told the fish to jump in, because I was an Obama voting-faerie.”
M looked askew at the bucket, “Doesn’t seem like that was successful.”
C2 frowned, “Yeah, stupid fish couldn’t see the persuasiveness of my ‘get in the freakin’ bucket’ argument.”
“You spent three hours trying to talk fish into a bucket?”
C2 looked at M like M was being stupid, “No, after a half an hour I went to the Department of Defense, purchased some dynamite on Bob-Jim’s tab, and tried to blow up the fish so I could scoop them into my bucket. Because if those fish aren’t going to be with me, they’re against me.”
“Well, you are trying to eat them,” said M.
“Don’t those scaly little jerks know who’s at the top of food chain here?”
“That might be up for debate at the moment,” said M. “How long did the fish blasting take?”
“About an hour.”
Glancing at the empty bucket again M asked, “How’d that go for you.”
“Well, I didn’t lose any limbs or other body parts.”
“Fair enough. What did you do then?”
“Went to the unemployment office. I figured that if anyone knew how to live the easy life and fish like these voter-faeries it would be the people who looked after the unemployed. I think they might be in cohoots with the fair folk.”
“At least you’re starting to make some sense,” said M.
“Dude, do you know what they want you to do down there? Fill out forms. And to get any benefits to live an easier life while not working…get this…I actually have to look for work, and they’re weren’t going to give me money anywhere close to what I was making as a cubicle monkey. How am I supposed to have an easy life on Bob-Jim’s tab if I’m not getting a huge wad of cash and may actually end up with a job?”
Feinging wonder, M said, “I don’t know.”
“I’m going to get on some dry clothes and head down to one of those library places, I’ve heard they’re free, part of Bob-Jim’s tab.”
M nodded, with a look on his face that it would be better if he didn’t say anything.
A few hours later C2 enters the lair with a new shotgun, goes over to the gun-safe, opens it, and gets a box of ammo.
“C2, what are you doing?” asked E.
“M tell you what’s up?”
“Yeah, uhh…Obama voter-faeries, right?”
“You betcha,” said C2 as he started loading the shotgun.
“You know, I think your co-worker might have been using a derogatory term for…”
“Man, I’m gonna live on easy street and fish if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Where did you get the gun?”
“Sporting goods store…duh.”
“Where’d you get the money, I heard you quit your job.”
“One of those payday loan places, I fooled them with last week’s paycheck.”
“Don’t they charge ridiculous rates?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, it’s going on Bob-Jim’s tab.”
“Dude, I’m trying to tell you, there are no voter-faeries who live on easy street and live off other people’s tabs like that. There are some methods of social support from taxes…but…”
C2 pumped a shell into the chamber, “Oh, I know. I learned that at the library.”
E, “Then what are you doing now?”
“I’m going to go rob Bob-Jim at gunpoint for telling me a bunch of crap about free-loading Obama voter-faeries and actually get the money he’s supposed to be forking over to support my life on easy street. I need a car payment, phone payment, and auto insurance or else all I’m gonna have left is a freakin’ fishing pole from the Department of Fish and Wildlife.”
- E=MC2
