Political Satire: Having trouble surviving these times? You’re not alone. Join us in columnist John F. Di Leo’s exploration of an alternate universe, where we imagine the impossible:
An aging, corrupt old fool somehow becomes president in his basement, and every night, an aide has to bring him his soup and discuss the events of the day as he prepares to receive his nightly meds…
Dateline, February 6. Begin Transcript:
“Hello, boss, how ya doing?”
“Oh, just a little queasy. I asked for a simple soup today… is it?”
“Yes, sir, a simple matzoh ball soup.”
“I’ve heard of that. What is it again?”
“Just chicken broth, sir. With a few balls in it.”
“Meatballs?”
“No, sir, there’s no meat in a matzoh ball. It’s basically crushed crackers and flavoring… maybe some crushed onion, spices, things like that. Compressed into the shape of a meatball, but there’s no meat in it.”
“Why not?”
“Um, not allowed, sir, I think. It’s a Jewish soup, so it follows the Jewish dietary rules.”
“Oh. Do I have to eat them?”
“Well, you CAN just have the broth, sir, if you’re not feeling well. But you’ll probably like it. I’ve never met anybody who didn’t love matzoh balls. They’re good, sir.”
“Well, okay. I’ll try it. But I’m really just in the mood for broth, son.”
“What’s wrong, sir?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, it was my first time riding in Air Force One, and I’m still a little queasy.”
“Oh? Gee, I wouldn’t have thought a plane that big would have a turbulence problem, sir.”
“Oh, it doesn’t. It’s a very smooth ride. I didn’t even notice when we took off or landed. Smoothest ride I’ve been on in years.”
“Well, then, what’s the problem, sir?”
“I stupidly thought it would be a good idea to jog up the steps to get on the plane. You know, show America my youth and vigor, that sort of thing. right?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Well, after running up those stairs like a 40 year old, as soon as I turned out of the camera’s view and entered the cabin, I just collapsed into the first seat I saw. Stayed there for fifteen minutes, just catching my breath. My stomach’s been bothering me ever since.”
“Ohhhhh, I see, sir. Yes, well, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, sir. Perhaps a 78 year old shouldn’t be running up and down stairs, you know?”
“It’s so much work and so much trouble to get that plane out to fly, maybe I should’ve insisted on taking the train anyway. The train is just three steps. I can still manage that.”
“That’s true, sir.”
“Did they have any food on the plane, sir?”
“I wasn’t gonna eat the food on the plane! Probably two months old. And my predecessor might’ve poisoned it.”
“Oh, he wouldn’t poison your food, sir. We may not like him, but he wants to run again; it’s not like a guy can run for office from jail.”
“No? I practically did. Heh heh heh. If those Ukrainian prosecutors had their way…”
“No sir. He’s 74 himself, you know. It’s not like he wants to spend his last years in jail for assassinating a president. You don’t have to be worried, sir. You have the safest job in the world.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding. My veep’s way younger than me. Don’t you think there are lots of people who’d rather see her in the Oval Office than me?”
“No sir, there aren’t.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. She’s young and attractive.”
“Don’t take this wrong, sir, but you’re old and you have bad eyesight.”
“You don’t think people would be happy to bump me off just to get her in power?”
“Boss, trust me, there’s nobody in the country who wants her in the Oval Office. Remember when she ran for president in the primaries? She came in last… even in her own state!”
“Wait, son, you mean, she’s SO undesirable, you think her presence protects me, because even my own party wouldn’t want me bumped off because my vice president is presumed to be so much worse than even I am, so nobody on either side would ever want her to take over?”
“Yes indeed, sir.”
“So… she’s like, my insurance policy?”
“Heh heh. Yes sir, you might say that.”
“Wow. Interesting, finding you’re protected through that kind of a situation.”
“How does it feel, sir, finding that the shoe’s on the other foot now, sir?”
And with that, as the older gentleman looked quizzically down at his own feet, the transmission reached its end.
Copyright 2021 John F Di Leo
Excerpted with permission from “Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volume One,” from Free State West Publishing, available in paperback or eBook exclusively on Amazon.
John F. Di Leo is a Chicagoland-based international transportation and trade compliance professional and consultant. A onetime Milwaukee County Republican Party chairman, he has been writing a regular column for Illinois Review since 2009. His book on vote fraud (The Tales of Little Pavel) and his political satires on the current administration (Evening Soup with Basement Joe, Volumes I and II) are available only on Amazon
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