Somewhere in the desert
Jul. 27th, 2017 07:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsSomewhere in the Arizona desert, late at night, a Winnebago stands by the side of the road. The side door is open, facing away from the road, facing the two men who sit just beyond the awning. Between them, empty bottles of red wine lie in a neat row like body bags. The generator hums gently, just enough to power the stereo system gently playing 1950s-era Swing.
"Refill, Sean?" John Boehner asks, holding out a fresh bottle he has just opened from the cardboard case behind his seat.
"Sure," says Sean Spicer.
A streak of light illuminates the night sky. Spicer says, "A shooting star is a really just a rock, John. A plain, ordinary, boring old rock. The universe is full of them. And then one day it hits a kind of friction it's never known before and... pffft!" He points up. "A momentary flash and then it's just vaporized. It wasn't that important to begin with, and now it's nothing. I think I'll name that one... Sally Yates."
Boehner laughs.
They wait awhile, and then there's another streak of light. Sean points up and says, "Sean Spicer. Sure. Why not?"
Boehner laughs. "Sure! See, I had the smarts to get out when the getting was good." There's another shooting star. Boehner points at it. "Paul Ryan."
"He's not out yet," Spicer says.
"His career is deader than that roadkill we passed a few miles back."
"What do you think will happen when Trump starts to really feel the friction?"
"Jesus, I don't know," Boehner says. "I just don't know. Like something out of the movies, I'm sure." There's another streak of light. "Preet Bharara."
"James Comey."
John Boehner's Winnebago carries a lot of wine.
"Refill, Sean?" John Boehner asks, holding out a fresh bottle he has just opened from the cardboard case behind his seat.
"Sure," says Sean Spicer.
A streak of light illuminates the night sky. Spicer says, "A shooting star is a really just a rock, John. A plain, ordinary, boring old rock. The universe is full of them. And then one day it hits a kind of friction it's never known before and... pffft!" He points up. "A momentary flash and then it's just vaporized. It wasn't that important to begin with, and now it's nothing. I think I'll name that one... Sally Yates."
Boehner laughs.
They wait awhile, and then there's another streak of light. Sean points up and says, "Sean Spicer. Sure. Why not?"
Boehner laughs. "Sure! See, I had the smarts to get out when the getting was good." There's another shooting star. Boehner points at it. "Paul Ryan."
"He's not out yet," Spicer says.
"His career is deader than that roadkill we passed a few miles back."
"What do you think will happen when Trump starts to really feel the friction?"
"Jesus, I don't know," Boehner says. "I just don't know. Like something out of the movies, I'm sure." There's another streak of light. "Preet Bharara."
"James Comey."
John Boehner's Winnebago carries a lot of wine.
