All In the “McCain” Family

By David Glenn Cox

“Boy da way Glenn Miller played,”

“Songs I’ve heard on my I-pod today”

“Gee, those S&L’s were great”

 

“Those were the days!”

 

“Didn’t need no welfare state!”

“Enron contributions pulled the weight.”

“Gee my Exxon stock did great!”

 

“Those were the days!”

 

“And you knew who Jews were then!”

“Girls was girls and Larry Craig just friends”

“Mr. we could use a man like W in there again (piano trill) Me!

“Everybody seemed content, no unhappy lobbyists”

 

“Those were the days!!”

Our scene opens with the McCain family at their one-story, 10,000 square foot brownstone outside of Phoenix. Johnny enters through the front door and puts his hat and coat on the rack and sits down in his chair.

“Cindy! I’m home.”

Cindy runs through the kitchen door to greet him. “How was your job today, Johnny?”

“It was terrible, Cindy. Bring me a beer, huh?”

“I’ll bring it to you right away, Johnny!”

She runs from the room and returns with a Budweiser. “Oh Jeez, Cindy, just cause your old man owns part of the company and made us wealthy don’t mean that I want to drink that swill. Bring me a Heineken, hell they’s gonna buy us out anyway, filthy Krauts!”

“No, Johnny, it’s the Belgians that are going to buy us out!”

“Well, they’s the Krauts neighbors, ain’t they?”

She returns with the Heineken. “Here you go, Johnny.”

“The opener, Cindy? The opener? Oh jeez, I’m an injured war hero here and I gotta open my own beer here? Huh!”

“Whats the matter, Johnny? Is it your work?”

“Oh jeez, Cindy, me and Stretch Gramm was down on the loading dock on Capitol Hill carrying water for the President all day. You wouldn’t believe it, there ain’t no real Americans left down there! There’s me and Stretch and Joe the Jew, and then there’s Boehner but what kind of help can you expect from a guy named Boehner?”

“That’s why you’re running for President, Johnny, because you represent the real Americans. You know, the middle class, those that make $250,000 and up!”

“I know that, you Dingbat, but I just don’t know how to make the average millionaire on the street understand the importance of pressuring their employees to vote Republican. Sure, the average Wal-Mart manager is easy enough, but how about the little people, you know, the spooks, the gooks, the kooks, the micks and the spics? Hey, Cindy, Stretch told a good one today on the loading dock. Three lesbians walked into McCain campaign headquarters and said that they wanted to vote for me. So he asks them why and they says, ’They’d vote for anyone who was gonna get licked as hard as I am!’”

“Oh, Johnny, that’s terrible,”

“That’s what I said too, Cindy. Specially when he told me that he made it all up and I got mad because those three votes would have helped my poll numbers go up some.”

"Johnny, your son-in-law Michael called. You promised to use your influence to get him into the Naval Academy, like your dad did for you, and you didn’t do it and now he’s got to pay money to go to school!”

“Oh Jeez, Cindy, I ain’t lettin no relatives of mine pay for school. That’s disgraceful. Government programs for everybody but real Americans! Tax, tax, tax. First they tax my Navy disability check and then my $29,000 Social Security check. They tax our three homes, my senate salary and they tax your hundred million dollars. It just gives me a headache, Cindy, real Americans like you and me just keep getting the shaft. Here I am, seventy-two years old and I got to keep working just to make ends meet and to keep my twenty million-dollar nest egg safe. That’s why I’m running for President, to stand up for real Americans like you and me, and to make sure that you-know-who doesn’t take over.”

“You mean Mr. . .”

“Stifle yourself, Cindy”

“But he’s a nice man, Johnny!”

“He is not! He’s one of them!”

“You mean because he’s black, Johnny?”

“Oh Jeez, Cindy, you is so dense some times, it makes me wonder why I married you, besides your old man’s hundred million dollars. Are you back on them pills again?”

“Do you mean because his middle name is Hussein, Johnny?”

“Why must you be such a dingbat when I’m trying to explain something to yas here, Cindy? He ain’t like us, Cindy, he ain’t no real American. He’s one of them! He ain’t one of us! You seen them before, Cindy, dirty hands, dirty clothes, pushing lawn mowers, painting houses and washing cars. And they all got them little houses full of screaming little kids, its disgusting.”

“I don’t get you, Johnny.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Cindy? Oh jeez, I’m trying to be delicate here! It ain’t because he’s black, but that don’t help none. Colin Powell is black. And it ain’t even because his name is Hussein. It’s cause he ain’t no real American like us, Cindy. It’s because he’s so, he’s so working class. How would you like one of them to move in next door? How would you like one of them to date your sister? God forbid we should let one of them become President! Get me another beer, Cindy, huh?”

“Oh, Johnny.”

Coming up next, The Golden Boys. Three elderly Bush administration officials share a house and reminisce about the good old days!