Tag Archives: Conservatives

Rape and Pillage & Everything Nice

In an undisclosed location in Manhattan, Nola Shumway – 8, a brat, sometimes aid and sometimes terrorist to President Obama – sits in the 9 O’clock position at an oval-shaped wood table. Directly across from her at 3 O’clock is Jaime Dimon – President and active Board Member of JP Morgan Chase & Co., and sometimes friend and sometimes foe to the Obama administration. Counter Clockwise (yes, always the opposition) from Jaime we round out the table with the remaining board members: Linda Bammann, James Bell, Crandall Bowles, Stephen Burke, James Crown, Nola’s seat, Timothy Flynn, Laban Jackson Jr., Michael Neal, Lee Raymond, William Weldon.

 Hanging on the wall behind Nola, 3 flat screens play the news of the day from 3 different networks: CNN, Bloomberg, C-Span.

Dimon: Nola Shumway. At long last we have the privilege-

Nola: -You’ve always had the privilege Jaime.

Dimon: You didn’t let me finish.

Nola: And that should take… what… another 20 seconds?

Dimon: (laughing) We could have been something, you and I. Alright, let’s talk about why we called you in. We’re interested in hearing your thoughts on PR.

Linda: How long have you been handling the PR for Russia?

Nola: About as long as I’ve been handling the President of Russia. (winks)

Linda: Can you expand on some of your key responsibilities?

Nola: Change-making, transform-doing, ball-juggling. (winks at Dimon)

Dimon: (clears throat) Nola, (glances down at Nola’s CV) can you walk me through what Sin-Ops-I.S. is?

NolaShumway_CV_1of2 NolaShumway_CV_2of2

Nola: Sin-Ops-Is… you know… what I’ve been up to. I think you call it a SEC filing.

Nola looks down at her phone and notices a text from O.

ObamaText_RPEN

 Nola: Well 2 ladies and 8 gents, I’ll be back. Gotta run next door and take care of a little prop bet. I’ll be back in about an hour.

Nola leaves the room and as she does CNN breaks in with this headline: I.S.I.S. IN US?

A video on the screen shows eight US soldiers on their knees in front of 8 terrorists, all dressed in black with only their eyes visible. Each terrorist holds a knife to the throat of the soldier in front of them. The little terrorist in the middle steps to the camera and holds out the knife while speaking.

Terrorist: Americans, these eight men are guilty of heinous acts. For the past 4 years your government has been covering up the events that took place on March 11th, 2011. We urge you to seek answers from your government. If they don’t release the documents, we’ll release these heads from their shoulders. You have until 3:00pm. Operation DYOD will commence.

CNN anchor (it doesn’t really matter): We’ve received only 1 part of this video, but have been told by unnamed sources that at 3:00pm a second video will be released on Bloomberg, our sister’s station.

In the next room Obama sits in front of the same three TVs, at the same kind of table. Somehow he makes it looks much cooler though.

Obama: CNN’s anchor just said sister’s station. Now it’s just sad. (To Nola) Did you bring me a plate? Where have you been for the past 45 minutes?

Nola: O, I was in a meeting and then I had to make a call. And, I can’t just make you a plate. White people think it’s tacky to take home unused food. Unless it’s photographed… and a write-off.

Obama: Fucking white people.

Nola: What’s up? Why am I being summoned?

Obama: The video. It’s disturbing.

Nola: I saw. CNN broke.

Obama: I’ve gotta say, because the extremist talking seems to be about your height. And I’m going to have to ask you a series of questions now. And I wish I could have been here sooner but I’ve been snowed in. (he wipes the tip of his nose)

Nola: Yep got it. Snowed-in. (she wipes the tip of her nose and slides a hand down her left arm)

Obama: Did you use any of the money we gave you to make that video?

Nola: I did not.

Obama: Did you make any of the agreed on propaganda films for the DOD?

Nola: Are you talking about the Friend(s)-fidel show? Basically a Friends reboot in Yemen?

Obama: Yes.

Nola: I did not. Couldn’t secure locations. Like, we couldn’t guarantee that a location wouldn’t be bombed out before we could wrap one day on the pilot.

Obama: So you have the money. (He wipes his nose, rubs his arm, coughs and pounds his chest)

Nola: I do not. (She wipes the tip of her nose, rubs her arm, coughs and wipes her nose again)

Obama: Where is the money!

Nola: I bought a shit ton of weapons.

Obama: Nola Shumway!

Nola: What? A little gun buyback program never hurt anyone. Isn’t that U.S. Policy? For once I tow the line and you’re pissed? So I took a few RPGs off the streets in Damascus. I think the word you’re looking for here is Shoo-Kran.

Obama: Hmm. Shoo-Kran. Is that the Syrian dialect?

Nola: Really, O? Not the time.

Obama: I just want to make sure you aren’t being blackmailed.

Nola: Oh sure. I’m being black maled. I’ve been black-maled, white-maled, half black-maled, yellow-bellied.

Obama: Yellow-bellied?

Nola: It’s a thing they do in the mountains of Kashmir. Trust me, you don’t want the specifics.

Obama: You haven’t answered the question.

Nola: You’re snowed in. I don’t answer questions in unsecured rooms. Tata. I must get back to my meeting. Oh, O, I’ve got a joke for you. (Wipes the tip of her nose) Do you know where to find the chairman of the SEC on a Saturday afternoon around (glances down at her watch) 2:55pm?

Obama: No. Where?

Nola: Goldman’s gym. Floating face down in their dark pool. (Winks, wipes tip of nose and rubs right arm)

A former Yankees player comes sliding in from who the hell knows and almost takes out a secret service guy. He stands up immediately and brushes himself off.

Nola: Hey Jeter.

Jeter: Nola. Lunch tomorrow?

Nola: Sure. (To O) I’ll see you later O.

Jeter to Obama: she’s been setting that bit up for weeks. How are you my man?

Back to the other room:

Nola enters the conference room and jumps on the table.

Nola: All right gentlemen. Let’s get down to it. Who’s interested in a little asset stripping?

Dimon: (to a horrified Linda) She’s crazy. I love her.

Nola: So, today is your last day.

Crandall: Hypotheticals are so much fun. I want to go first!

Nola: Sweetie, I’d say this is highly un-ethical, but I guarantee it is not a hypothetical. Today, Jaime, you and your board are going to perform one last circle jerk, and then be executed through your pre-arranged exit strategies. You can take a poisoned pill, do a golden parachute – oh, and the way we do golden parachutes is:

A woman comes bursting in the doors, dressed all in black. She moves to the windows and opens one. She then picks up board member James Crown by his neck. She walks him over to the open window and slowly places him so that his hands attached to the ledge are the only things keeping him from falling to his death. The woman then drops her pants and begins peeing all over his hands and the ledge. He slips off at about 30 seconds. She pulls up her pants and walks calmly out of the room.

Nola: Easy-pee-sy, 2 ladies and 7 gentlemen, that’s what we like to call a golden parachute. Now, there is one final exit strategy you can employ.

Nola pulls out two guns. Aims one at Dimon in the 3 o’clock position at the table and the other at Crandall Bowles, sitting at the 12 O’clock position.

Nola: That third option, mentioned in my summary, is the one in which I explode my talents all over your faces. So, first up, you guys love a good metaphorical circle jerk. You sit on this board, I sit on this board, and we are the unelected governing body of the world. HAHA aren’t we cute? Well… I’m not into it. It doesn’t do it for me, know what I mean? So, today you’re actually going to circle jerk. Get your dicks out gents, and get ready to jerk each other. Not turned on? Don’t worry – I have your tastes queued up in 3… 2… 1…

Behind Nola on the CNN screen a breaking news banner scrolls across the screen (misspelled of course)

CNN anchor (it still doesn’t matter): We’ve just received the full version of the video and rather than source it, we’ve decided to play it on air, live for the first time. We’ll all watch together. Without any commercial breaks we present to you: OP DYOD (does not stand for ‘do your own dishes’)

Roll Video: 

Our previous 8 militants stand behind the kneeling US soldiers. The little militant (the one who spoke in the previous video) beheads her soldier. As she holds his head in her left hand she speaks directly to the camera.

Little Militant: On March 11th, 2011, these 8 men brutally raped a fellow female soldier. It was reported, investigated and sealed. No charges were filed. To distract the American public, the military started publishing more and more stories of brutal gang rapes – happening in India, happening in Pakistan. These were not new stories, but all of a sudden they were news stories. We’ve given the military, the government, our fathers, our teachers, our priests, our preachers, more than 200 years to deal with the terrorism we face on a day-to-day basis. Instead, they focus on liberating non-whattheybelievers into capitalist money hungry Americans. We have some good old fashioned domestic terrorists here in the US of A-holes.

Militant removes head covering, and it is revealed to be Nola. The other 7 militants remove their head coverings. They are all women. They behead their soldiers and stand emotionless behind Nola. A little girl, maybe 8, walks into frame and stands next to Nola. She holds a legal pad and begins to read aloud from it:

Little Girl: Today, February 14th, henceforth referred to as ‘not your sweetheart day’ our revolution begins. Not our peaceful protests, our half jokes, our cries of no received as screams of yes… our true revolution. The era of militant feminism. We’ve been watching you all, you patriots, you American men, who hurt our sisters.

Cut to Nola in the Board Room:

Nola: (to a horrified Dimon) When she says sisters, you get that I mean that in an African-American general sort of way, right?

He looks at her. He can’t speak.

Back to Video:

Little Girl: Nola has been building an army. Training and diligently reprogramming the indoctrinated minds of the women forced to grow up in this sick society. In a round of unprecedented Series A funding investment, we are happy to have the US government backing, so that we can say we are now the first US State-sponsored fair-rorist organization.

Back to board room:

A large thud  from next door.

Linda: What was that? What the fuck was that?

Nola: It’s just O fainting. He’s a big guy. He’ll be fine. Are you guys on board so far? Pun intended. I mean, I gotta say the branding opportunities are endless. Fair-rorist organization. Who comes up with this stuff? Oh yeah… I do. We’re Unicorn Status.

Back to video:

Little Girl: With coordinated strikes today, Operation DYOD launched to much success.

Video cuts to a hip museum. Several men standing in line. A local anchor, holding a microphone that says DYOD, interviews one of the men in line.

Anchor: Are you excited to see this new installation by the elusive artist ‘Bangsy?’

Man: A friend of a friend told me it’s like Banksy and Pornhub had a babe, and that babe is just 18 so we get to fuck it.

Anchor to camera: You’re charming. (To Camera) Little is known of the artist, Bangsy, given that name because of her similar work to the elusive artist Banksy, but you know, she’s a female, so… sex. Her installation is called ‘Womb to Tomb’ and little is known about the experience other than the participant enters a pink dome all by himself. Nothing is known of what happens once you get inside. For the first time our cameras will be allowed to go inside with one of the participants to capture the experience.

The camera follows a man inside the installation. There are stacks of dead bodies, all men. And as the man walks toward the center of the small room, he looks down, and looks left and then a gun comes into frame from his left and point blank shoots him in the head.

Back to the Board room:

Everyone is still horrified. Well, except Nola, who seems to be in a great mood.

Nola: Dimon, why aren’t you aroused? My IT guys tell me… well, you probably don’t want me to tell these people what my IT guys tell me you’re into. Get to jerking each other.

Back to Video:

Small town America, a football field. Players stand at the 50-yard line. A big banner behind them says ‘Homecoming.’ Cheerleaders dutifully march out to the field with roses in hand to give to the players. As they make their way to the field the PA system comes on, and a familiar voice begins speaking:

Nola: Last Saturday night the Varsity players decided to celebrate their 5th straight loss of the season by getting a JV cheerleader black out drunk and filming themselves rape her unconscious body.

A video of the assault starts to play on the replay screen

Nola: Parents and local authorities were contacted, and given this video, and since we’re all here celebrating the homecoming game tonight I think you can all guess that nothing happened.

The cheerleaders pull knives from their skirts.

Nola: But I also guess you can’t even fathom what’s about to happen now. Commence Operation Deepthroat Your Own Dick.

Before the players understand that this is not a joke, the cheerleaders slice the throats of the players, slice off their dicks and then shove them deep into their throats.

Back to the Board Room:

Nola: Did anybody see that coming? Tell the truth. I feel like maybe I missed my calling sometimes. I think propaganda videos are my thing.

Nola shoots the gun in her left hand aimed at the board member at 12 O’clock – Crandall Bowles.

Dimon: You just murdered one of the most influential women in American finance.

Nola: See, you say murder, I say market correction.

Nola moves her left gun, so that it is aimed directly at the board member sitting in the 1 O’clock position.

Nola: It’s 3:05pm Dimon, and you have until 3:15 to figure out your exit strategy.

Dimon: That isn’t enough time to get you money.

Nola: Ugh. Awkward. I never said anything about money. I don’t know if you pay attention, but we got our Series A. We’re beyond good, bro, we’re Unicorn Status. Okay, wait, you guys this is the finale. Pay attention.

Back to Video:

Now we’re in a faux press conference. A banner scrolling at the bottom of the screen reads: Nola Shumway delivers her sermon on the mount. Nola walks out in all black (because all people who wear all black are crazed lunatics who should not be trusted) and steps up to her podium. Her podium is just bodies of dead men stacked on top of each other.

Nola: Today is a day that shall live in infancy. Out of the baby steps that we have taken today, the feminist movement will actually move. A new brand of feminism is the norm now: militant feminism. Boys and gentlemen… we are coming for you. You have not yet known the kind of violence we are accustomed to. But you will. We’re not terrorists, as the media will claim, we’re fair-rorists, here to liberate you from the dicktatorships you have been brutalized by. And let me be clear, because I know subtleties go over your small brains, when I say ‘liberate you from your dicktatorships’ I mean we’re coming to slice your fucking dicks off and cram them down your throats. We’re coming for the rapists, the date rapists, the cat callers, the career stallers, the anti-abortion pro-anal good ol’ boys, the misogynist men who rap about bitches and hoes and live with their single mothers, the country boys who think ‘we all deserve a whistle’, the politicians who want to legislate and penetrate our vaginas, the bosses who award jobs to likeable girls and pit them against the unlikeable girls, the casting agents and prodouchers who cut women off from roles if they don’t flirt, the married men who treat their wives like second class citizens… None of you are safe, and even if you aren’t guilty you’re all harboring known terrorists. We can get to you because we are your wives. We can get to you because we are not your wives. We can get to you because you think you’re smarter than us and you think we’re too kind to wage the kind of wars that you legitimize under the banner of patriotism. You’ve mistaken our kindness for weakness. We’ve tried the peaceful thing and we hit a wall. But at the foot of a wall is there not a great uprise? We’ve been Martins… but today we become Malcolms. We are coming for your sons, your fathers, your brothers – frat and biological, your co-workers, wingmen, accomplices. You are not safe. Today we impose She-ria law in America… and your asses aren’t ready for the kind of brutality we plan on exacting. Well, we’ve had a lovely evening gentlemen. Don’t call us… we’ll call on you. Tata.

Back to the board room:

Nola: It’s tough to get the tone right on a speech like that, but I think I got it.

Dimon: I don’t understand what I have to do with Militant Feminism. I have two women on this board.

Nola shoots all remaining board members and aims both guns at Dimon.

Nola: Had. You had two. (sigh) You really don’t… due… diligence… do you? If you had you would have realized that I tend to get a little off message. The only reason I’m here is to right a wrong and deliver a message from your old pal Barry.

Dimon: Which is?

Nola: Bye Fiducia!

She shoots Dimon in the face.

Nola is covered in blood, and brain matter. She pulls out her Iphone.

Nola: Siri, can you remind me to update my CV?

She walks to the bloody conference table and starts making a plate of miscellaneous donuts and muffins to take back to Obama. Crandall Bowles lifts her head.

Crandall: Is it safe?

Nola: Not yet, but I’m working on it.

Nola’s Back… In the way that the debt crisis is averted.

We once again return to the Oval Office.  Barack sits, smoking a Newport and  listening to the radio.

Barack: You’re still cool baby. You’re still cool.

He receives a text message :

He turns on a radio and let us now listen in:

Hola y recepción a otra tarde de secuestre la radio.

Obama: Oh Jesus. Can I get a translator in here?

(from Radio) Nola: No need for a translator O, I’m taking over the radio show tonight. Tell  Archuleta she can go back to falsifying the voter registration cards.

Obama: Can you hear me? See me?

Nola: No O, I’m on the radio. I can’t hear you or see you. I just know you that well. Which is exactly why I thought it was time to get in touch.

Obama (to an agent) cancel Archuleta, make sure this line is secure. Cut feed to any other signals.

Nola: And don’t worry about cutting feed to any outside signals. Nobody, save a few sad Colombians, is listening to this program. The hours are dreadful and the show is a bit – ugh, hopeless, if you know what I mean. Oh – hold on we need to play a request right now Call in and we can talk.

Cut to the radio station in Bogota. Nola sits in an old disc jockey booth playing 8 tracks.  A line of Columbian women and children stand at the door waiting for their turn to talk.

Nola motions to an old woman to step up to the mic:

Poor Colombian woman: Hola, mi nombre es Guadalupe Manore y quisiera decir mi marido Jose que aunque él puede todavía ser perdido en la selva con los gorilas I ámelo y esperanza que él se volverá pronto.

Nola: That was Guadalupe hoping that her crazy husband Jose will stop playing around with the Gorillas in the jungle and come home and help her raise their 58 children. Now I’m going to take a call from a sad and desperate man who is mourning the loss of his cajones. Go ahead O, say hello to the Colombians.

Obama: Nola! I am still your President. You can’t talk to me that way.

Nola: My president? O, in case you forgot you and your party totally abandoned me after the Whale trial. And everybody knows your balls are at this moment sitting in Boehner’s briefcase.

Obama: Nola, there were some non approved extracurricular assignments you involved yourself if you remember correctly.

Nola: Ah, the terminal tot squad. We were ahead of our time.

Obama: Where have you been?

Nola: O, we don’t have time. I’ll be back soon and explain everything.

Obama: In great detail I’m sure.

Nola: Sorry, hold on, gotta play another request:

(radio voice Nola) This song is dedicated to all you hostages out there in the jungle from all your women back here in Bogota. They’re just trying to survive papis just like you. And to the little mamisetas, I hope you’re hugging Sancho tight tonight:

<Music plays>
I don’t practice Santeria, I aint got no crystal ball…

Nola: O, okay back to you. This debt ceiling. No way you can do it without some revenue. I don’t care that you guys made poor Giffer come down there and vote. It isn’t going to help O. We’re broke.

Obama: Nola, it’s dead. No revenue. I can’t utter the word tax without Boehner crying like a little bitch.

Nola: Has anyone found his secret room yet?

Obama: Nola!

Nola: He has one O, I’m telling you. Classic signs of a pervert. He cries too much. Anyway, this debt issue – You’ve got to outsmart them. Remember that time we were at Old Ebbit’s and you wanted to leave the waiter a 10% tip and we argued?

Obama: I just don’t think what she did was worry of more than 10%.

Nola: You’re half black, I get it. You don’t have to constantly remind me. But, more importantly, what did I say when you said ‘what is it with white folks and tipping’

Obama: It’s the way we pay for our white guilt quietly, without having to admit to white guilt.

Nola: Bingo! O hold on- I just won.

Let us cut to Nola’s radio station/Bingo Hall

Nola is waving her Bingo card in the air while 100s of angry old Columbian women stare her down.

The bingo caller tries to wave off the bingo

Nola yells:  Escucha el asshole, yo quiere el pollo. I don’ cuidado de t si I’ m en el teléfono. Jugaba y pagué mi botella de Tequila mi tarjeta. ¡Quiero mi pollo! ¡Gané!

Sorry O, little mix up on the bingo game. Any who, You’ve got to level with these white rich people. You’ve got to speak their language. You can’t raise taxes. You have to call it taxes with a tip – or TWATs

Think about it. Who tips for everything?

Obama: Rich white people.

Nola: They tip at least 20% on everything. 20% to the Koreans for their nails even though they never do them quite as good as white people. 20% to Starbucks baristas even though they mostly screw up their super simple and not at all obnoxious ‘half skim, 2/3 decaf, steam to 500 degrees then put in the ice’ coffee-esque concoctions. 20% to the guy who washes the car even though they have to kindly remind him he missed the tires again. 20% to the guy who checks their coat. 20% to the guy who parks their car, the guy who mows the yard, the maid who cleans the house, the door guy who stands in front of their apt, the Persian who tailors their clothes, the dry cleaners, the fruit stand guy, the homeless people. The only people white people don’t tip are their families and other rich white people (their doctors, CPAs and lawyers) because as they say they ‘already pay for his second home in Barbados.’

You know that part of the reason tipping is structured into our culture? Because white people along time ago loved feeling like they were doing something for somebody above and beyond. They love that feeling more than anything else in the world.

And… it’s a win/win because it just so happens that those on the receiving end of the tips are people in a lower status. They can unload some of their white guilt and at the same time gain feelings of power. It’s really brilliant, actually. We just need to use it for our purposes.

So here’s your proposal. You add a federal Income tax tip bracket. You make these ‘tips’ visible to the public. I’ve already talked to Buffett

Obama: How are you in contact with Buffett? In Colombia?

Nola: Oh, O, there are a lot of things you don’t know about Buffett. Anyways– he’s on board. Once he starts tipping on his taxes – and twatting about the TWATs , they’ll all start tipping on their taxes. The one thing the richies can’t stand is for someone to tip more than them. You know Steve Wynn will ask his accountant ‘how much did Forbes tip on his taxes’ It’s just in their nature.

Obama: I can’t thank you enough. When are you coming back?

Nola: Not sure O, not sure. I’m rather enjoying this gig. I’m learning a lot about how to overthrow a government.

Obama: Nola!

Nola: Relax, in 2012 you’re going to thank me because you’re not getting reelected.

Obama: I think it’s up to the people.

Nola: That’s actually the problem.

Obama: Anyway, thanks so much my Sweet, Pretty, Young Nola. Anything else that could help my chances in 2012?

Nola: You have to push for Universal Healthcare. I know, I know you think the people hate it. But listen, you aren’t selling it right. What you need to do is present it to the folks like this: Universal healthcare means filling out only one New Patient form – ever. If that don’t get the old folks along for the ride I don’t what could. Ciao for now Comrade.

(radio voice) Let’s get back to soft hits with Nola ‘the kidnapped-love doctor’ Shumway.

Nola: Has your love been kidnapped by rebel guerilla forces? Are you missing your government sympathizer tonight? Come down and send them a message tonight on Kidnap Radio Bogota. (looks at pic of kidnap victim) I mean this guy just has the face of a hostage you know.

Back at the Oval office:

Barack: Get Carney in here. And get me the VP.

William Daley: Biden? I haven’t seen him in months.

Barack: Not Biden you idiot, my veto pen. We’re taking this thing back. Oh, and go get Boehner’s briefcase, I’ve got to get a couple of things out of it. And Daley?

Daley: yes, O?

Barack: Prepare the Lincoln bedroom, I suspect Nola will be around soon.

Nola’s Health Care Reform chart…

Early this morning at the Oval office:

Nola and O sit together in the Oval office. She is irritated that her Press conference-

Robert Gibbs: It’s a briefing Nola.
Nola: Shut up Gibbs, let the writer, ugh, write.

As I was writing… Nola and O sit together in the Oval Office. Nola is irritated that her Press Briefing has been put off for the Health Care Summit.

Nola: O, will you at least present it?
Obama: Nola, it isn’t an option.
Nola: You’re right. There are three. Come on… Will you at least look at it?

He does:

<

Obama: Absolutely not.
Nola: But O!
Obama: Nola! Study with Gibbs, you need to be ready tomorrow.
Nola: Fine. (slowly gets up and walks sloooooowwwwwllllllyyyyy across the room)