Posted by
Garnet92 on Thursday, September 18, 2008 12:00:00 PM
The Chicago Observer printed an extra 100,000 copies of the latest issue (their usual print run was only about 100,000). The pictures Jack Haas had taken were explicit – too explicit to print without blurred areas – he had caught them in mid-deed, as it were, and only a couple of pictures could be printed, even with blurries. By the end of the day, the Observer had completely sold out and was preparing to print another 100,000 copies for tomorrow. Accesses to their website crashed the servers and the phones were ringing off the hook.
KA BOOM was the sound of the other shoe dropping.
It was everywhere – literally everywhere. All of the networks, all of the cable shows, all of the bloggers, all of everybody was talking about the Barack and Britney “interaction.” Prosecution was threatened, lawsuits were promised, and there were even death threats, in short – pandemonium ensued.
John McCain sported a wide, semi-permanent grin all the next day. He knew that somebody “up there” had smiled on him (little did he know that it was Mighty Mom who had “arranged” his good fortune). He and Sarah would undoubtedly be sworn in on January 20, the election was a formality now.
The final Presidential debates came and went. They were non-entities. Obama was deadpan and emotionless, he knew the jig was up and he had no chance. McCain was happy, smiling and sharp – Obama was listless and made dozens of gaffs – his heart was no longer in it.
Mojo and Britney had done him in. All of the other material that appeared in McCain’s ads was “icing on the cake” as it added to the reasons for voters to drop Obama and either vote the McCain/Palin ticket or not vote at all.
Election night, as the returns started coming in, it soon became obvious that a landslide was working its way across the country. Even New York went for McCain – that was an indication that Obama was unlikely to win any state. It was all over by 11 PM Eastern, McCain was going to win every state’s electoral votes. The victory celebrations were everywhere. Even the MSM had to admit defeat – and they did so grudgingly. Their anointed choice had lost and they didn’t know why. It had to be race. They never did accept that most folks voting against Obama did so for reasons other than race – their ego wouldn’t accept that – it had to be those awful racists. Even with the Obama “tapes” from Emil Jones and the Observer pictures of he and Britney familiarizing themselves with one another, those were just “static,” the real reason was racist. They’d go to their graves thinking that.
Sarah finally turned in at almost 2 AM, worn out and a little tipsy (she’d had several glasses of champagne).
As she dozed off, a deep familiar voice awakened her. “Sarah,” she turned over but didn’t awaken. “Sarah,” it sounded like James Earl Jones calling her name – again. Then, she awakened with a start and realized it was the moose again.
There he was, her giant pure white moose. She was transfixed – the white moose was glowing, shimmering, like a flickering candle flame. “Cama-I, Sarah.” “Hello moose.” “You have done well.” “Thank you.” Again, the James Earl Jones voice: “no one will ever know that you have prevented the dark son from gaining control. You have done the world a great service and the earth spirits are pleased.” Sarah was at peace with the idea that no one would ever know what really happened.
“So Mighty Mom is no more”? “She is no more, Sarah.” Sarah felt like she was losing a dear friend, a sister, and she was sad – a tear welled up. “Do not be sad, Sarah,” the moose reassured her, “what you have done is recorded in the Book of Deeds and will be known forevermore to the earth spirits.” “You will be honored.” “To repay you for your great deeds, you will receive gifts.” The moose placed a handful of tickets on the nightstand.
A four day/three night stay at the Pair-a-dice motel in Clearwater, FL, a year’s worth of All-tempa-Cheer, a month pass at the Starbucks of your choice, and, a T-shirt emblazoned with “I wuz Mighty Mom for a month and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.
“Thank you and enjoy your gifts.” The moose shimmered, blurred, and ‘pop’ he was gone.