I simply can’t take it any more. The wheels have come completely off the Left’s wagon. So, I’m compelled to once again seek some small therapeutic satisfaction by making fun of them.
Below is a piece I did for All Right Magazine back in late 2011. I’m planning an updated follow-on story, in the near future, so this story will give it context. We all need context.
Obama Visits The Ruthless Dictator’s Club
Imagine what it would be like on Obama’s first visit to the Ruthless Dictators’ Club.
Maitre’d: “Mr. Obama, will you be dining with us later?”
Obama: “Uh, ya, OK. Uh…good idea.”
Maitre’d: “Please put on this name tag, sir. Regular members don’t always recognize new faces and we certainly don’t want to have any, well…shall we say…embarrassing international incidents.”
Obama: “Oh…uh…ya. No problemo.”
Maitre’d: “And, please remind your secret service agents about the importance of being discrete and deliberate in their movements. Member’s security teams get a bit jumpy when they see new bodyguards, particularly from Western countries, standing around in the shadows. The best policy, is for your people to introduce themselves on our complementary secure in-house bodyguard radio frequency.
Obama: Umm…OK…right, I’ll let ‘em know.”
Maitre’d: “Oh yes and we respectfully ask that only handguns be carried inside the club. Please have your people check their sawed-off shotguns and Uzis, at the courtesy coat and personal assault weapon room.
Obama: “OK, will do. I don’t even have a gun, just this little pocket knife.”
The Maitre’d suspiciously eyes Obama up and down, then addresses him over the top of his glasses.
Matre’d: “Iiiiii seeeeee. Very well, sir”
Obama casually walks into the smoke filled room and finds a stool at the bar.
Castro is at the end of the bar schooling King Abdulla on uprising suppression methodologies. Chavez is in a booth, loudly conducting one of his rambling four-hour speeches, to a bunch of cute, swooning socialist groupies. Il is walking around, noticeably tipsy and looking like he just woke up, cracking jokes about “civilized” societies. Ahmadinejad is ranting about “the Little Satan” again, just like so many other Tuesday nights.
Qaddafi, is at a dimly lit table, muttering to himself, wearing sunglasses, staring blankly into his empty glass. Everybody’s been leaving him alone to ponder his fate. Old friends know he’s under a lot of stress and are doing their best to be supportive. Talk is that if he doesn’t get his act together pretty soon, he’ll be booted out of the club…or worse!
Bartender: “Yes, sir, what will it be tonight?”
Obama: “How about a nice white Zinfindel.”
Bartender: “That’s very funny, sir. Seriously, I’m sorry. The RDC only serves hard liquor. Members pride themselves on being extremely hard men. Oh, but we do have sparkling water, for our Muslim patrons, of course.
Obama: “Ya, a sparkling water’ll work.”
A lean, steely-eyed guy slides into the seat next to Obama.
Putin: “Get me and my friend here a couple of the usual.”
Bartender: “Yes, Mr. Putin, right away, sir.”
Obama: “Hey, Vlad, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Putin: “Ya, I know, I’m not really an official member. But, because of my “specialized expertise”, they invite me in, once in a while, to chat with prospective members, they’re thinking about.
Obama: “That’s cool. I hope they all check out OK.”
Putin: “Ya it keeps me active and helps me practice my social skills.”
Obama: “Thanks for the thought Vlad, but, I really shouldn’t imbibe, what with the UN-Palestinian vote right around the corner.”
Putin: “Oh, come on, B. You’re not going to let a little thing like Islam, come between a belt of the Motherland’s finest and two old comrads?”
Obama: “Ya, but, you know…Vlad…I’m trying to keep the plan under the radar for a little while longer. And, if I indulge, my base, particularly in Detroit, might have second thoughts.”
Putin: “Are you still on that Muslim World domination kick? Or, were you talking about that union guy that spilled the beans about being YOUR army against capitalism.”
The two men down the shots and continue talking.
Obama: “For crying out loud, brother Hoffa there is a loose cannon. I’ve told him, over and over, that the East Coast is totally his, after I declare martial law. I’m wondering if he has bigger plans.”
Putin: “Ever hear of ‘Night Of The Long Knives’? Maybe you should throw a party.”
Obama: “Hmmm?…Well, I don’t know. I’ve been kind of busy at work.”
Putin: “Ha…what?…fixing the Debt crisis deal?”
Obama: “No, but…”
Putin: “That wasn’t work. You only have old Emmeltsky on staff. B, you better get going. Have you made your Fortune 100 takeover list, as I suggested a few weeks ago?”
Obama: “Well, no, but…”
Putin: “How are you going to crush capitalism, if you don’t efficiently take over all of your country’s means of production?”
Obama: “I’ve been working on it. Other things have been getting in the way.”
The discussion starts to become more heated.
Putin: “See, that’s were you still aren’t quite fitting in with the program here. I’m trying to help you B, really I am.”
Obama: “Yes, I know. It’s just hard to sweep out two-hundred some-odd years of this Constitution thingy.”
Putin: “Oh quit your belly-aching, B. You know, some of the guys are having a little trouble warming up to you. You don’t have much of a track record of eliminating your political opponents.”
Obama: “Vlad, give me a break…I taught Alinsky…in Chicago, for Heaven’s sake. What does a guy have to do to get a little respect around here. I’m going as fast as I can.”
Putin: “I know buddy. I’m just saying.”
Obama: “Ya, ya, whatever.”
Putin: “By-the-way, ah, using the “H” word around here…well…it isn’t the best idea.”
Obama: “Hey Vlad, everybody knows, my ego, is just as big or bigger than all these other clowns. And, I AM the only remaining super power!”
Putin: “Stop right there B…that wasn’t very nice. I’m on your side here, remember?”
Obama: “Ya…I’m really sorry…Vlad. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t think this job would be a 24-hour a day gig. Being the Supreme Leader…er…I mean…president of a country is still a little new, to me.”
Putin waves at Ahmadinejad’s table.
Putin: “Hey, Mauq-man, B here says HE’S the only remaining super power.”
Amadenjad: “Ha! The big Satan is a lightweight. I mean…what tyrant in his right mind sells out his own military? The guy’s a total noob. Ha, Ha, Haaaa!”
With that Obama, gets up and begins to leave.
Putin: “B, don’t go away mad!”
Obama bumps into Chinese President Hu on the way out the door.
Hu: “Don’t let it get you down, kid. The boys are always like that to the FNG. Show ‘em what you’re really made of and they’ll come around. Trust me on that one.”
Rob Reilly is a freedom loving, free market, pro-Capitalist Conservative American writer. He enjoys Tea Party events, wearing his Gadsden Flag or DADDD (Dads Against Daughters Dating Democrats) t-shirts when he knows Liberals are around and waging his own personal psych-ops war on tyrannical Socialist/Progressive/Theocratic/Leftist lunatics. Give Rob a piece of your mind at [email protected].