VIRGINIA – SMOKEY BACKROOM
“Jenkins!”
“Yes, sir.”
“You and I, representing the business interests of Virginia, must decide how far down the line of succession this moral rot has spread. We need a governor, man. The people are ungoverned.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine, sir.”
“Nonnycock! The people are wild and full of hooch. They crave the iron. Pack animals, Jenkins. That’s what the people are.”
“Then let’s get through this without getting sidetracked, sir.”
“Begin.”
“Northram is out. He was the governor when this orgy of dumbfuckery began. Blackface in the yearbook.”
“Never be racist in a yearbook. My uncle has that phrase tattooed on his chest.”
“That’s the kind of statement that leads to one of the sidetracks I mentioned, sir. The lieutenant-governor, Fairfax, might be a little rapey.”
“How rapey?”
“Oh, sir, there are no levels of rapiness.”
“Fish sauce! Copping a feel is not full penetraysh.”
“Sir, we’ve discussed your use of the phrase ‘full penetraysh’ and how uncomfortable it makes me.”
“Babby ears, Jenkins. You’ve got wee babby ears. I wouldn’t even put them on my necklace.”
“Stop talking about that necklace.”
“Made it in Vietnam out of ears cut from my victims!”
“You bought it off the internet.”
“Got a story for each ear.”
“I’m going to continue with the main thrust of the conversation, sir: Fairfax may also be untenable in a political sense. Next along the line is the attorney general, Herring.”
“Fine, make him governor.”
“He just admitted to doing blackface.”
“Recently?”
“It was part of a Kurtis Blow costume, sir.
“That doesn’t answer my question. KB is a perennial costume. Get yourself a wig, sweater, neacklace. Jordache jeans. Then you rock the house party til the break of day.”
“This was the very early 80’s, sir.”
“How racist could he be if he was on the Blow train so early?”
“Notwithstanding, sir. It’s just bad optics.”
“Fine, fine, who’s next?”
“President Pro Temp of the State Senate Doug Runk. Moderate. Moderately intelligent. Won’t set the office on fire if left unattended.”
“Perfect. Put all our money on him.”
CELL PHONE NOTIFICATION NOISE
…
“Doug Runk has a secret Twitter account.”
“Does he use the identity to fight crime on Twitter?”
“No, to hate Jews.”
“Ah. Much easier. Runk is out. Who comes next after him?”
“Lisl McCurdy, the Speaker of the Statehouse.”
“A woman! With curves like Hypoglangia and legs like mighty Dryla!”
“You made those gods up, sir.”
“She’ll do nicely.”
“No, sir. There’s a photo of her at a Cinco de Mayo celebration where her and her sorority sisters are riding Mexicans like horses. Furthermore, immediately after the picture was taken, the man she was riding–a Senor Hecho Perrico–snapped in half.”
“Tough to break a Mexican. They have spines made of spunk. Forget McCurdy, How far down does the line of succession go?”
“Weirdly far, sir. After the Speaker comes the Court Bailiff. Seven DUIs.”
“I admire the tenacity. Who’s next?”
“Tallest judge.”
“Well, there you go, Jenkins. Just measure the judges and ship the biggest gork to Richmond.”
“Half-done, sir. The largest jurist is a fellow named Peculiar Institution Carter-Wilkins.”
“That’s a fine name.”
“Mm.”
“Blackface?”
“So much and so recent, sir. Has a YouTube site demoing how to get the lips and eyes just right. Attended more than several all-blackface weddings.”
“I admire the tenacity. Moving on. Fetch the second-tallest judge.”
“It doesn’t work that way. Parts of Virginia’s founding charter were written by drunken gentlemen farmers 400 years ago. It’s complicated. After the tallest judge, the power of the governor shifts to the very next slave-owning man to enter the Capitol when Congress is in Seffion.”
“That’s sexist. Women can own the hell out of a slave. I’ve seen it.”
“Yes, sir. And since, obviously, no one could fulfill the terms of that appointment, the line of succession continues. Next up is The Outer Lane of Southbound 1-95 south of Richmond.”
“The lane becomes governor?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is it sentient?”
“I have no idea, sir.”
“Why is a section of highway given agency and status within Virginia’s line of secession?”
“Same answer.”
“Can a stretch of asphalt be racist?”
“No, sir.”
“Put all of the money on I-95.”
“Yes, sir.”
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