Tuesday, December 20, 2011

240/365 --Playlist Story-- inspired by "La Iguana" by The Chieftains

David woke to the sun on his smiling face. He yawned and stretched, then got up, showered, dressed in a thousand dollar suit and left his house via the three car garage he shared with his wife and teenage daughter in his slick black sedan that was all shined up by their maid Rosita. He drove not to the legislature where he worked as a congressman but to a radio station north of the center of town. He was greeted by a curvy secretary in a pencil skirt who handed him a latte with extra foam, with a rather forced smile on her face. He was handed off to an intern with a clipboard, an exhausted looking man in his early twenties and a crooked tie.

"This your first time?" asked the intern.

"Yes, on this show," said David beaming.

"Okay, well he's a little loud but just go with it. You know. Be yourself...and all that."

"Sure thing!" said David.

"Mmm. Yeah. So, he's gonna ask you about--"

"Oh yes, we talked about it over email. I'm perfectly fine with it. It's not a sensitive subject to me."

"Yeah, that's great. He might get a bit personal though."

"I've nothing to hide, and even if I did, I still have three years to recover from it!" David burst out into a laugh so hearty in might have belonged to a hippopotamus.

The intern politely smiled. David slapped him on the back, tearing up. There was a *ding* behind them.

"That's it, we've gone to a brief commercial break. Just head in this door--"

As the intern opened the door, a large man barrelled out. David grinned and held out his hand.

"Oh I'm such a fan--" said David.

"Gotta take a piss," bellowed the man, pushing past. David's grin faded.

"Yeah, it's only thirty seconds for the break. Don't worry about it," said the intern. "Just have a seat over there and let me know if I can get you anything."

David walked into the sound-proofed booth. There was a large executive chair with a lumbar support and a smaller leather chair on the opposite side of a table that held a control panel, laptop, microphones, and a massive mug of coffee that read 'My other ride is my mistress'. David wondered why it was written on a mug and not a bumper sticker. He sat down in the small chair and it swivelled easily. He sat up straight and folded his hands on the table. He bobbed his head slightly to tune that was playing inside his head. Finally the large man burst back into the booth. He sat down heavily on the chair and sighed deeply. He rested his meaty arms across a belly that gurgled audibly.

"Mexican food last night," confessed the large man. "I swear, they're preparing us for an invasion, luring us in with tasty food that incapacitates us!"

"Well--"

The large man flicked a switch on the control panel and spoke into his mic.

"And we're back! I have with me as my guest, one David Renholm, a congressman from the fifth district, who's been hard at work--you have, haven't you?"

"Uh, yes," said David, leaning forward into a mic, but the large man pulled it a few inches back and shot him a dirty look.

"Yes, David's been hard at work orchestrating--let me repeat that, orchestrating the resistance to HR9615, since the other side, can't stop--now this just makes me...angry. The other side, can't stop whining about this issue. They just...will...not...stop, and I'm sick, sick of it. Aren't you too, my intrepid listeners? Haven't we heard enough from them? They just keep taking, and taking, and taking. They want money, for every little, foolish thing, and they will not stop until this state is completely broke--"

The large man continued his monolog, caressing his microphone, and speaking in tones that were alternately dulcet and histrionic, and David felt increasingly serious and important and he found himself nodding to every emphatic point. Finally the large man turned and looked David directly in the eyes, and David felt electricity spike down his spine.

"--now let's hear from the man, holding down the fort so to speak. Bowie at the Alamo, if you will, though I hold out hope it's not that bad. Let's hope representative Renholm is...victorious in this vicious, vicious battle. So what do you say, Congressman, on this issue?"

David opened his mouth, about to speak, his face slightly read and his neck tense...

"Hoo!" he exclaimed. Both he and the large man flinched. He smiled briefly and shook his head. "HooHoo!" He clapped his hands across his mouth, his eyes wide.

"Hoo!" said the large man in his large voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "HooHooHoo!"

"HooHoo!" said David. He stood, flinging back his chair. "HooHooHOOHOOO!" he screeched with increasing alarm.

"HOOOHOOOHOOOHOOO!" screamed the large man.

Just then the intern burst through the door and flailed himself onto the control panel, flicking a switch to turn on the commercials.

"What the hell?!" he exclaimed.

"HOOOHOOOHOOOHOOO!" screamed the large man, his face beet red. He pounded his fists on the table.

"HooHOO!" said David, shaking his head and beginning to cry.

"What are you doing?" yelled the intern. "You two sound like hooting monkeys!"

"HOOHOOHOO!" bellowed the large man indignantly.

"Stop it now!" said the intern. "Or we'll have to hoo--" He stopped short and looked wide-eyed. "Hoo--hoo! HOOHOOHOO!"

The intern held his hands against his cheeks, the look of horror in his eyes. He turned and ran out of the booth, David and the large man following. They passed the shocked looking secretary.

"Hoo?" she enquired, then dropped a stack of papers on her feet. "HOOHOOHOOHOO!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

David found his cell phone in his pocket and dialed his wife.

"Hoo?" she answered, crying.

"HooHooHoo..." wailed David. He dropped to his knees and looked up at the ceiling. "Hooooooooo..." he cried plaintively.

All subsequent legislation was debated very politely via email.

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