View Full Version : Consolation Milkshake (political satire, language)

November 11th, 2016, 09:10 PM
The two sat in the diner booth, flanked by men in dark suits standing nearby. The woman in the booth fiddled with her milkshake straw, not looking up at the man across from her.
The large-eared man reached for the silver mixing cup on the table.

"More shake, 'Hil?"

She raised her head and sneered. A tear was forming at the corner of her eye. She willed it not to drop. NO ONE would see her cry.
"Sure," she spat. "YOU can drink WHATEVER you want. And you look so good in that suit..."

"It is Brooks Brothers."

"...and I have to fit into these damn ugly pantsuits!"

The man, seeing his companion distressed, reached for her hand. An agent quickly moved in and pretended to wipe the counter.

"Sir, we discussed this." the agent whispered, "No one touches her."

The man in the impeccable Brooks Brother suit nodded, and sipped his milkshake.

"And how are YOU so calm!" She seethed, stabbing at the cherry in her glass with her straw. "We just got our asses handed to us!"

"Life goes on, 'Hil..."

"Call me Madam Secratary."

"Listen, we need to focus on the future. Our legacy. How we can continue to serve this great nation in any capacity..."

"So, you're begging for a job at the Clinton Global Initiative? I thought Bill already sent you the packet, and the return envelope."

"No actually, I was planning on starting my own NGO. I figure Malia can take over after she graduates."

The woman cackled, smiling broadly.
"Thanks, B.O. I needed that. That was funny. YOU have no idea what you're doing. You're a socialist..."

"...and a two-term President. That didn't lose. Twice."

Her hands clenched, and she twisted her head and neck, loosening up. The agents moved in closer, she looked up at the closest one as she unfastened her top blouse button.
"You DO NOT want a piece of this! I know you have Obamacare, and that WON'T be enough to take care of the hurt that I WILL put on you!"

BO waved the men off. Hil straightened her lapel, and fluffed her hair.

"Now, where were we?"

"I think we were insulting each other, and you were just about to kick my ass."

Hil shurgged, as she continued to methodologically stab the cherry in her glass to an unrecognizable pulp.

"And that's your problem, girl," he continued, "you're too tense. People notice that kinda thing. It's contagious, makes folks nervous."

"Blah, blah, blah." She mumbled. "That's all you do. Talk."

"Well, we are politicans..."

"Were" she corrected.

"Were politicians. People expect us to talk."

"Yeah, well, you suck at it. You don't even make any money doing it."

"Oh, I will."

Hil looked up and met BO's gaze.
"Really?" she queried, "YOU are going to make money? In the private sector?"

"Well, yeah. You see, I have a brand. People like me. My family." He began smiling, even as his companion squirmed, "I can parlay that into real, tangible assets. And I probably won't even need to suck-up to any Middle Eastern dictators."

"That was low."

"Hey girl, just speaking truth to..." he paused, uncomfortably, "Just speaking truth."

Hil stood up quickly, staring intently at BO.
"So, what? You're saying I have no power?!"

BO kicked back in the booth, slurping his strawberry shake loudly. He eventually shrugged non-committaly.
"You did just lose to a man that most of America hates. Just sayin'."

"I'll show you! I'll show you all! You think you're not going to have Hillary to kick around any longer, YOU'RE WRONG!"

In one motion, Hillary swiped her Dior clutch from the counter and stormed to the door. She kicked the glass door open, causing a very small, almost unnoticeable crack.

The diner patrons sat in stunned silence.
Then everyone cheered. Especially the Secret Service agents.

BO looked up at the closest agent, who was struggling to keep his composure.
"Didja, I mean, didja get that point when she referred to herself in third-person? OMG!" BO shook his head, "I almost feel sorry for Bill." He took a deep breath, "Almost."

BO pushed his now-empty milkshake aside and reaches for the one that Hillary left. An agent quickly moved the drink from out of BO's reach.

"Sir, remember? We put Xanax in hers?"

"Yeah, and a lot of good THAT did."

"And sir, we should be going. You have a 3 on 3 scheduled at 1400 hours."

"Of course. And I have to finish my bracket this evening." BO rose, rolled his sleeves back down and grabbed his coat. "It's hard work being The POTUS."

A large black Limo pulled out front, and soon the entourage made it's way to the door and down the road.

In the quiet that followed, A waitress, towel in hand, approached the table where the two had sat. She stared at it for a moment, then spoke softly to herself.

"Of course, they left no tip. And no one even paid the bill."

November 13th, 2016, 07:07 PM
I don't see much wrong with this. I think it's pretty good, and pretty funny.

November 17th, 2016, 03:14 PM
I enjoyed the read and am about to look for more of your work.

January 20th, 2017, 11:55 PM
This was great! Thanks for giving me a good chuckle :rapture: