President Obama sits in the Oval Office. He breathes a sigh of relief knowing the government shutdown has ended. His relief is short lived however, as the thought of a future government stalemate has only been postponed until February.
Eyes glazed and heart palpitating President Obama grabs a piece of paper which he intends to write a proposal for handling future government debacles. In this proposal he states that forthcoming disagreements concerning the debt ceiling which result in a government shutdown will be conducted in The Bunker at The Greenbrier Resort in White Sulphur Springs, W. Virginia.
President Obama leans back in his chair and imagines the massive complex beneath the luxurious Greenbrier Resort. Taking a minute to admire his own cleverness he begins to scribble his proposition:
My fellow colleagues. After sixteen days of this government soap opera
known as the shutdown revolving around Obamacare and the debt ceil-
ing, the House Republicans have finally realized no amount of ball gra-
bbing and ass tickling by Democrats would get their rocks off, and have
therefore, reached an agreement. That being said, another vote to raise
the debt limit is imminent and next time Congressional blue balls will be
It’s for this reason that I propose the next time Republicans choose to
hold our economy hostage they too should be held hostage within the
confines of The Bunker at Greenbrier which was put in place during
the Cold War.
Imagine if you will, all five-hundred thirty-five members of our House
and Senate jammed in a complex with the only provisions being
c-rations and water. I would even go so far as closing off the shower
facility. I figure, if the Boston Red Sox can give up their grooming and
personal hygiene routines for their playoff run, our elected officials
can do it for their shutdown run!
If this thought alone is not enough to stifle another stalemate between
political parties, I will be more than happy to paint a better picture…
The clock strikes midnight and no bipartisan agreement is reached. All
members—including myself—march somberly into the bunker where the
vault door is locked until an agreement is reached. Moreover, as part of
an emphasis for bipartisanship, one Republican must bunk with one
Picture John McCain, resting atop his bunk—who will not be preoccupied
with his online poker game—and have to reminisce endlessly of his POW
stories from his service in Vietnam.
I should also mention the gentle sounds of female whimpering coming from
John Boehner’s bunk which we will all have to endure and the violent
threats coming from his bunkmate, Nancy Pelosi who will want to beat
him with a sock filled with soap, Full Metal Jacket style.
As for myself, I will undergo nothing less than torment from my colleague
Joe Biden who more than likely will be inebriated as he’s made govern-
ment shutdowns into a drinking game—the rules of which I still don’t
understand—however, I did fall victim to facial graffiti after passing out
with my shoes on…
But that’s neither here nor there. I’ll sum up my proposal by painting one
last depiction for my colleagues. If by some chance we are stuck in the
bunker for the equivalent of the last shutdown, we will all emerge dishov-
eled, fowl, and horrified—much like Rick Perry in a spelling contest—but
we will also see our world in a new light. We will forever seek bipartisan
agreements not only to avoid the consequence of a government shutdown
but because all five-hundred thirty-four members of the House and Senate
will have taken a turn punching Ted Cruz until he dies.
This is my proposal not only to my colleagues, but to the American people,
so they know that as they suffer, we do not go without suffering as
Thank you. And may God help Congressional leaders pull their heads
out of each other’s ass.