Posted by
Peppermint on Tuesday, April 24, 2007 2:45:04 AM
Chapter XVI
May 10, 2009
After days in the Brain Eradication Center, there were no changes. Bradford refused to recite the Lord’s Prayer. No amount of shocks or crutch beatings made any difference. Bradford was too entrenched in the socialist doctrinaire. He continued to believe in all the socialists’ agendas and organizations. He still thought the ACLU was a good thing. Even though no one from the ACLU was alive anymore, he still believed. Teadrinker and Purplegimp tried to tell him the ACLU wouldn’t have taken his case if they still did exist. He wasn’t on death row. He didn’t need an abortion. He had not put up any crosses. For what possible reason would they have come to his aid? He was of no political import. PappyMichael thought that perhaps Bradford would be a good candidate for the lobotomies that had to be performed on the particularly recalcitrant. PappyMichael grumbled, “Get him outta here, I’m done fooling with him.” Purplegimp and Teadrinker, with a shackled Bradford, galloped off to transport him back to the Institution for Insane Socialists.
As is often the case, and as everyone reading has seen, these Socialists have a propensity for accidents. According to the Mossad agents, somewhere along the route, Bradford fell off his horse, cracking his head up against a boulder. He died, ignominiously soon after. Purplegimp stated that just before he died, he murmured the following, “
There were reports regarding two public figures incarcerated at ISS who also broke out. It seems there have been many breakouts and IIS will have to address the security system. Speculation has it that some of the insiders are aiding these socialists to escape. Sheehag has been suspected for quite awhile and it might be necessary to take her out and shoot her. Even with her lobotomy she is still capable of devious behavior considering she made Jimmy Carter believe he had a rabbit in bed with him instead of a pit viper.
Anyway, Arlen Specter and Patrick Kennedy, dressed as doctors, stole as many drugs as they could from the IIS pharmacy, and walked out of the facility one night. They found some horses tied up at another socialists’ campsite, stole them and rode off.
Specter soon found to his dismay that Kennedy was an inconvenience. Kennedy popped so many pills and remained in such a drug induced state, that he could not lead his horse, and furthermore kept falling from the horse. Specter’s old bones were getting mighty tired of lifting all that dead weight back onto that horse. He decided he would leave Kennedy in one of the bigger cities where he could mix in with the roaming masses of the streets. It would be better for Kennedy in the long run since drugs would be more available to him there. How he would obtain the drugs was his problem. Specter knew the crime problem in some of the bigger cities had become extreme, but he figured Kennedy was capable of dealing with that having grown up in a family where crimes had been committed on a regular basis.
Specter left him and rode off heading into the Shenandoah Mountains. No one knows why he headed that way. But, that had been a mystery all of Specter’s life, why he went in one direction or the other. One night, Specter ran across a search party of Patriots. He figured he would head off another trail to get out of sight and bed down for the night. As he climbed the trail, he realized he was being followed. He wanted to turn around because this trail had become narrower than he liked and he couldn’t see where he was going. But, it was too late. Someone was already tracking him.
At some point, Specter turned around trying to see who was following him, when just at that moment, he heard gunshots. His horse skittered and lurched out of fear and the two went flying down the side of the mountain. Old Specter sure took a wrong turn that night.
Patrick Kennedy didn’t fare much better. Kennedy was found dead on a street partially hidden under some rubbish. According to a source in the area, Kennedy had made plenty of trouble. He seems to have considered himself the better of those with whom he was roaming, demanding that others hand over their drugs because he was a Kennedy. Didn’t they know who he was for God’s sake? That attitude didn’t go down well because Kennedy didn’t understand the general public’s attitudes about these things. You either prostituted yourself or stole to get your drugs. You didn’t go around demanding it from others. Being a politician surely Kennedy knew both concepts well, that of prostitution and stealing.
Kennedy was demanding that one addict hand over his needles and heroin stash when several other addicts attacked him from behind and beat him to death with baseball bats. During the beating he screamed at them to spare his life, apologized and told them he would go into rehab. The source of this story reported that the druggies all laughed that night recounting the tale, wondering how a dude could be that dumb as to think yelling rehab would save his life. As the addicts reported, he looked just like any other snow bird that hung around these streets. Another one of the addicts said, “Kennedy? I thought he be dead years ago”.
Ah, this has been a very sad writing tonight, the untimely deaths of three of our best examples of socialism, selling out, and neurotic sense of entitlement.
But, I intend to end this chapter on a happy note. Fred Thompson married Ann Coulter and GunnyG. Ann reportedly stated that she had been waiting all her life for a man like GunnyG, one who had courage, honor, and a complete lack of respect for socialists and was not afraid to shoot them when the need arose. GunnyG said he had found the woman of his dreams, one that not only was beautiful, but smart, funny, and hated socialists as much as he did. They are honeymooning on an undisclosed shooting range. Reports are there are fireworks day and night.
The honeymoon will be cut short, however, due to the fact that after the marriage ceremony, Fred Thompson also appointed GunnyG as his new Secretary of Defense. There’s no stopping us Patriots now!