The braintrust of the GOP has gathered at a local bingo hall to discuss events in the wake of their semi-disastrous convention, hoping to pick up the pieces and make a run at Barack Obama. Present are newly minted vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin, her entire family, plus her daughter’s baby daddy, as well as John and Cindy McCain and a host of advisors and campaign managers.
John McCain: Alright everyone, calm down, calm down. The convention was not that bad, we know that. Let the liberal media mock us all they want—the truth of the matter is that we’ve still got middle America on our side, and they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. Plus, we’ve got lots of female voters taking a second look at us because of Sarah (winks creepily at her from across the room). What I wanted to do today was sit down with all of you and discuss how to gain some momentum and really go after the liberals down the stretch.
Sarah Palin: John’s right people, we just need to gain a little momentum (raises her eyebrows suggestively at Cindy McCain). I’m sure you all have ideas on how we can do this, and I’d love to hear them, but first let me say that I think we can all agree that the hallmark of a good campaign the rest of the way is a return to the conservative ideas we all hold so dear (shoots icy stare of death at daughter and baby daddy).
[The rustle of a playbook, no more than 5 pages in length, is heard in a dark corner of the vast room]
Dave Wannstedt: Did I hear someone say conservative?
JM: Who the fuck are you?
DW: I’m Dave Wannstedt, the best damn recruiter in college football history!
SP: Great, now will you please leave? What we’re talking about here is serious business.
DW: Serious? Let me tell you something sugar tits, the only serious business we should be discussing in this room is how to attack that stout Buffalo defense this Saturday. I know they’ve been a doormat for years, but I think we need to be very cautious with our gameplan for this one. We’ve got to dot all the I’s and cross the T’s.
[The sound of several ringing cellphones, at once everywhere and nowhere, starts emanating from another corner of the room.]
JM: Ah fuck, now what?
Scott Boras (with Pedro Alvarez): Ah yes, dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s; one of my favorite things to do, especially when the paper has lots of zeroes and dollar signs and my name on it. Isn’t that right, Pedro? [Pulls puppet strings]
PA: Yes. Mister. Boras. Sir.
SB: Now, Dave, just be sure you don’t put the finishing touches on that game plan after the first second has ticked off the clock, or else it is rendered null and void and useless, and your players will not be bound by its rules.
DW: What are you talking about?
[Boras pulls strings furiously]
PA: He. Is. Talking. About. My. Non. Contract. With. The. Baseball. Team. Of. Pittsburgh.
DW: Oh, you mean the Pittsburgh Pirates, right? With Honus Wagner, the greatest shortstop playing the game today!
SP: Gentlemen, can you please take your discussions elsewhere? We’ve got some strategies to devise, and frankly you’re all just talking nonsense to me.
DW: Listen here cuntswab, we’re going to sit here and talk until we damn well please, and there’s not a fucking thing you’re going to do about it, got it? In any event, here’s my advice, which guarantees that you’ll hang in there with Obama only to lose in the end. Just do lots of little things that start you off well, then don’t adjust when he adjusts, and you should be perfect!
SB: Uh, Dave, just wanted to let you know, Honus Wagner has been dead for awhile and hasn’t played in about a century. He’s a little bit of an old reference.
DW: Really? I talk to his buddies every night—they give me play-calling advice and everything. This one guy, his name’s uh, Mr. Walter Camp, he said to ignore anyone that told me anything about a forward pass, said it’s just a fad. I didn’t even know what he was talking about.
SB: Anyway Dave, I just wanted to give my two cents here, because I seem to find myself in the general area anytime the words “plan” or “contract” are ever uttered. Pedro and I will be going now. Say good-bye, Pedro.
[Boras tugs all the strings at once]
PA: Good. Bye. Every. Body. It. Was. So. Nice. To. Meet. All. Of. You.
JM: Nice guy, that Pedro—such a dynamic speaker!
DW: Anyway, you’re all going to help me devise this week’s game plan. It’s going to be a long process, but I think we can get through it and come up with a doozy. I figured I’d script the first 15 plays of the game and go from there. Here’s what I’ve got.
[Hands Palin piece of paper]
SP: Uh, these are all dive plays for the fullback.
DW: Well what the fuck did you think they were going to be, hot lips? This isn’t your weekly bridge game, it’s goddamn non-conference college football between two unranked teams. You’d better get your fucking game face on!
SP: Uh, sure. [Rolls eyes, hands back paper, walks away]
[Sound of wind and rain fills the room]
JM: Christ Jesus WHAT NOW?
Tropical Storm Hanna: Why you all up in my BIZnis old man? Whachu got against me? Huh?Huh?Huh?Huh?
DW: Why the fuck do you sound like Rosie Perez?
TSH: Oh no you di-uhnt!
SP: Why me, God?
TSH: Listentowhatimtawkingtoyouabout! I am going to dump LOTS of water on you dis Saturday…so be ready, ohKAY?
[TSH leaves, everyone looks around]
DW: Perfect! Now, with the field guaranteed to be a sloppy mess, I can finally get all of my running backs at least 30 carries each—and all of them can be inside the tackles! I don’t need you shitrags anymore, my gameplan is DONE. Time to get ready to go to war!
JM: Did someone say WAR??
SP: Sigh.
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