EPISODE FIVE: THROW MONDALE FROM THE TRAIN
It took the Liberal Reich less than an hour to get the shield generators back up, and since The Resistance had no forces anywhere near Pearl Harbor there was no damage done, other than to the pride of Chancellor Humphrey. I was taken to a very comfortable cell in the basement of the Woodstock capital building and served a delicious meal of eggplant and broccoli, liberal favorites. It was made with some kind of spices I was not familiar with, or maybe a new kind of sauce, but whatever it was gave it all a definite zing.
After I ate, Walter Mondale came to my cell and opened it. He said that I was to be transported to another facility some distance away. We would take the national railroad, and believe me, they were aware at how upsetting I found nationalization of the railroads to be, and I would be placed in very comfortable handcuffs for the journey. I offered no resistance to Walter Mondale, letting him cuff me and lead me to the railroad station just down the road.
I didn't have an opportunity to say goodbye to Chancellor Humphrey and General Zod, but they waved to me as I was led outside, which was nice.
Once Walter Mondale and I were safely on the train, we went to the dining car because Mondale wanted some hummus and cage-free eggs. I could tell he was hungry, As we sat in the dining car and I had a cup of coffee while Walter ate, I noticed a peculiar man sitting with an older woman at the table across the aisle from us. He kept looking at me and winking, which made me think he was one of those liberal homosexual types, but then he told me straight out that he wasn't flirting with me and that he felt I was prejudging him based on outdated stereotypes. At that point Mondale announced he had to take a "major dump" and went off to the bathroom, leaving me alone, but still handcuffed in the dining car.
It was at that point that the peculiar man got up and with great stealth slid a folded up piece of paper down on the table in front of me. His companion, which turned out to be his mother rather than a date that was not age appropriate for him, started yelling at him to get back to their table. She was calling him a "useless sack of shit" and using every bad word in the book to insult him. So, he went back to his table in the dining car and left me sitting handcuffed with a folded up piece of paper on the table in front of me. It was a quandary.
I closed my eyes and summoned the power of conservativism. With its great power, I was able to think about the folded up piece of paper and unfold it in my mind. When I opened my eyes, the paper was unfolded in front of me, thanks to a waiter who saw what was happening and decided to help.
"What does it say?" I asked.
"You could just open your eyes and see for yourself," the waiter told me.
"How did I know you had unfolded it for me if my eyes were really closed? I am able to see even when blinded because I am filled with conservativism."
"You better be careful talking like that," the waiter warned me. "Conservative thought is illegal in these parts. You'll get yourself arrested."
I held up my handcuffed wrists and gave him a dumbfounded look. He shrugged and went off to wait on other customers.
The movie being shown on the train was just real time footage of Hillary Clinton carelessly sending off a lot of emails, so while that was somewhat interesting, I had to concentrate on reading what was written on the now unfolded piece of paper on the table in front of me. I didn't know how long Walter Mondale would be in the bathroom, but I knew that being a liberal meant he had no intestinal fortitude like conservatives did. That meant his time would likely be more difficult in the bathroom than it would be for someone like me or Gerald Ford. I looked down at the paper and finally read it.
"If you throw my momma off this train I will throw Walter Mondale off the train. This way neither of us will have a motive and we'll get away with it."
"But we're just strangers on a train!" I yelled at the man across the dining car. "What is wrong with you? We don't even know each other."
"That's the point," he muttered with his teeth clenched together as his mother continued to severely berate him.
Mondale was returning from the bathroom with a piece of toilet paper stuck to his right shoe, and in a very awkward and embarrassing way, so I knew I had to get the note off the table. I scraped my handcuffed wrists across the table and dragged the note down onto the floor.
"How is your coffee and bean curd with mushrooms?" Walter asked with a pleasant smile as he sat back down.
"Terrible," I reported. "Why can't I get a decent piece of steak or some whale meat on this train?"
Walter just laughed, then got up and came around the table and gave me a hug. My secret plan, which was still quite secret, even from you at this point, was still percolating in my brain. That plan could work even without the offer of this stranger on a train offering to throw Mondale off the train for me, but I was starting to have new ideas, which worried me because having new ideas tends to be one of the signs that you are infected with liberalism.
There were definitely benefits to having this stranger throw Mondale off the train, except I knew that if we threw him out in a rural area Mondale would never survive. He would be looking for government handouts and social programs to help him out of the situation, and there would be no one out there to write him a government check. He would be cold, shivering, frightened, because he lacked the conservative ability to overcome adversity and rise to face challenges. I had grown to have feelings for Walter Mondale. We had become fast friends, and at times I thought I might be falling in love with him. This made the idea of just throwing him off the train to be a confusing struggle in my mind, and in my heart.
In a moment of weakness, I let my friend Walter know that he had a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his shoe. It wasn't just one square. It was several squares, connected like cojoined twins, and it was humiliating to be sitting with a man with that going on. He thanked me and then pulled the toilet paper off his shoe and put it down on the table where our food was. In that moment, whatever I was feeling for Walter Mondale evaporated and I was filled with nothing but contempt for him.
"Shall we finish eating?" Mondale asked.
I looked over at the stranger, who was still being verbally attacked by his mother, and nodded. The game was afoot.
What I was experiencing could best be described by a made-up liberal term called Stockholm Syndrome. I was feeling untoward feelings about my captor and it wasn't right. Mondale had some eerie liberal powers and he was using them on me. I had no doubt about this. He had to be thrown from the train, the sooner the better.
Arranging the mutual problem solving plan was more difficult than just writing a note and nodding at each other, and both the stranger and I knew this. I was in handcuffs and being watched like a hawk by Walter Mondale, except when he was in the bathroom. I decided I would play along, convince him I had "Stockholm Syndrome" and win his trust. Then I would convince him to unlock my handcuffs and let me wander around on the train unmonitored. This would require swallowing a lot of my own vomit, to keep it from spewing out of me, as I pretended to have liberal tendencies and to feel romantic feelings for my captor.
After two weeks, I was still no closer to convincing Walter Mondale that I had Stockholm Syndrome and we were almost at our destination. I had to do something quickly, as the stranger was getting impatient with me, and I was at the end of my rope. I decided to kick it up a notch, as the kids like to say, and up my game.
Walter was taking a shower. I got up and, after having a difficult time opening the bathrom door because I was in handcuffs, I walked into the bathroom and pulled open the shower curtain, revealing Walter Mondale in all his naked and wet glory.
"Walter, I want you," I told him.
"There has been a change in plans," Walter said as he appeared completely unaffected by me opening the shower curtain and seeing him naked. "You will be taken to be tried for conservativism."
"I find you very attractive, Walter," I said, trying to ignore what he said and act seductively, leaning against the wall as I shook my hips, causing the ill-fitting and very loose sweat pants I was wearing to drop down around my ankles.
"Oh my," Walter said. "I haven't seen anyone wear white briefs since I was in college. You are such a conservative that it is hilarious to me."
"I want to make love to you, Walter," I said in my most sultry and husky voice, sounding almost like Lauren Bacall in her heyday.
"I am afraid I don't feel the same way, Harry," Walter said as he got out of the shower and started towling off. "It would be wrong of me to sleep with you when I don't feel the way you do. I would be leading you on, and I don't want to do that. I am willing to help you deal with these feelings, to accept that it won't work between us, and to help you find ways to have healthy relationships in the future."
I could not believe Walter Mondale had just put me in the friend zone. Now I really wanted to hurl him off the damned train. It would have been easier if he had just slept with me and let me steal the handcuff keys while he was in his post-orgasmic glow, but now I would have to resort to the plan to throw various people off the train.
Later that day, while Walter was in the bathroom taking one of his monster dumps, I met up with the stranger. We decided to try a dry run, in which we threw the waiter from the dining car off the train. When that went well, we knew it was time to take care of each other's problems. He insisted I had to throw his momma off the train first, even though it would have made more sense the other way around. I reminded him that if we threw Walter Mondale off the train first, I could lose the handcuffs and be more capable of throwing his mother off the train. The stranger wasn't buying it. He made a unilateral decision that his mother was the first priority and if I didn't agree, the whole deal was off.
There was only an hour left before the train pulled into the station. It was crunch time, and when I saw the stranger's scowling mother coming towards me on the safe space car, I threw my shoulders back and walked straight up to her.
"Look at this, some moron in handcuffs. What a loser." There was no end to her vitriol.
"There is a beautiful view from the caboose," I told her with a feigned smile. "I'd love to show the view to a lovely woman like you."
"Been alone a long time, haven't you, fuckface?" she snarled. "Oh, is it a pretty view? Do you like pretty views, you pansy-ass motherfucker?"
"Yes, I am very lonely and seeing a beautiful woman like you on the train has made me feel romantic inclinations. Your words are like poetry to me."
"I am the only woman to appear in this story," she told me. "And I'm a raging, angry nutcase. This story is extremely sexist and you piss me off."
"There was a sexy scene earlier where I saw Walter Mondale taking a shower."
"Sexist not sexy, you imbecile. What are you, some kind of conservative dinosaur?"
"I have a lot on my plate," I said, holding up my handcuffed wrists. "Why not come and seen the sunset with me from the caboose. It will be very romantic."
"It is two o'clock in the afternoon and this train pulls into the station in less than an hour. Are you going to try to throw me off this train?"
"No, of course not, I'd never do anything of the sort."
"I'm an 80 year old woman and I am extremely bitter about being the only female character in this story. You don't want to romance me. You are up to something."
"I mentioned my ex-girlfriend Hermione Taylor in the first episode. We're just friends now, but I'm okay with that."
"Yeah, and she never showed up, even though your two white male friends, the guy with the blue head and the fat bald guy who still travels with you in spirit have both played extensive roles in the story. Why hasn't this Hermione woman made any appearances in the story? You're a sexist pig."
"No, I'm not. I'm saving myself for marriage. I won't even have a meal alone with a woman for fear that I will offend God."
"Hogwash, you were just trying to convince me to go to the caboose with you alone. Our coupling would not be age appropriate. You are filled with contradictions and secrets!"
"I just wanted to... oh, nevermind," I spat and threw my handcuffed arms around her neck. I dragged her by her neck, slipping around so that the chain from the handcuffs went around her throat as I dragged her from the safe space car and towards the caboose.
"I'm the only female character in the story and you are violently dragging me through the train? What kind of misogynistic drivel is propelling the disjointed plot of this story? Look at yourself! Be ashamed!"
"I'm a conservative, I feel no shame, except when I look at pornography and glance over at the genitals of the man at the urinal next to me. You're barking up the wrong tree, lady."
We ran into her son on the way to the caboose. He was dragging Walter Mondale towards the caboose in much the same way I was dragging his mother, except he wasn't wearing handcuffs and had Mondale in a headlock. We got them both to the caboose just as the station came into view. It was now or never, and the train was slowing down now. The stranger tossed Walter Mondale off the train first. He landed awkwardly and then stood up, brushed himself off and started walking towards the station. Now it was my turn. I twisted my body and hurled the stranger's mother off the train. She landed more awkwardly than Walter Mondale, breaking a hip in the process, but he then helped her to the station and got her prompt and caring medical attention from the universal health care doctors who were draining the GNP of the former United States of America like a spinster letting the water out of the tub after a long soak.
And then we pulled into the station. The stranger and I were both in a rush to get off the train and disappear into the crowd, but there was a welcoming party at the station. One of the most powerful liberals of all was standing there, flanked by two Liberal Walkers, and she was not happy.
"Oh shit," the stranger muttered, sounding defeated. "The Notorious RBG!"
Episode Six: The Notorious RBG Strikes Back