The Most Conservative Man in the World.

Garland Marriott June 15. 2012

Katrina Pierson walked into the Grand Ballroom of the Garland Marriott. She was feeling feisty. She had just shoplifted some new panties from the JC Penny and she couldn’t to drop them on the floor.

It had been a while. Katrina had always been a political person. She had decided that it was what really interested her. She had a degree in biology. But it was the body politic that interested her.

She had started out working for the Democrats. Barack Obama spoke to her. He was half white and half black just like her. Her mother had abandoned her too. Giving her up for adoption and then taking her back. Like an overdue library book. Her father was black just like the President. He abandoned her too. Not as exotic as a Kenyan exchange student. Her father was just a garden variety low life who left her in poverty and was only her father because he had an extra two dollars. Still she felt that she had an affinity for the Jug Eared Jesus.

The problem was the boys in the Obama campaign were all pansies. Homos. Or might as well be Homos. You couldn’t coax an erection out of them with a vacuum cleaner. And Katrina was talented. How do you think she worked her way through college?

So she drifted into Conservative politics. At least there were men in the Tea Party. It was a misnomer. Sort of like a fat guy being called Tiny. Tonight there was a get together to meet the new candidate for Senator. He was a big shot lawyer. Katrina hated lawyers. They meant trouble.

She sat down in then next to last row of the seats to see if she could scope out some prime beefcake. It was best to reconnoiter before making a move. You didn’t want someone with a wife. Or clingy girlfriend. Or herpes. Been there done that. That fuckin’ Derek Jeter.

Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw a smoldering Latin type with an Eddie Munster Haircut and a rigid conservative back bone. She smiled. She loved rigid bones.

“Hello senorita. Do I know you” asked the tall olive skinned Canadian? He was of course a Canadian even though he claimed to be an American. He was proud to have been born near the USA. Why should mere details of his place of birth matter to a man such as himself? After all. He is the most conservative man in the world.

“I don’t think so. My name is Katrina and I am here to support the Tea Party.”

“Charmed my dear. I am Don Juan Montoya De La Theodore Cruz. You disgust my Father. Prepare to fuck!”

“WHAT? Wait a second. Why would I disgust your father? He doesn’t even know me.”

“My father hates all mulattos. And gaudroons. Octaroons. He even hates macaroons. At least the ones with chocolate on the outside and a creamy white filling. I hope you like a creamy white filling my dear. I am your servant and would be honored to provide it.”

“Wait aren’t you the candidate. I thought you were married? I don’t get involved with married men.”

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

“It means you have a wife.”

“Perhaps. But she is otherwise occupied. She is out with the valet standing in front of cars before he parks them. She is fascinated by them. She will not be an issue. Of that you may be sure.” He looked at her soulfully through his jaundiced conservative eyes. She felt a little wet.

“Why not. I have new panties. Let’s take them out for a test drive.”