Slowly, but surely,
we will see Trump turn into an albino, as those daily injections of Clorox
start to kick in. Soon, he will look like Marcel Marceau. He already has the
mime hand gestures down pat. Wax on, wax off. Accordion squeeze and release.
One-hand figure 8’s. Tugging on the invisible rope.
What is a post-trumpvirus pendejodemic America going to look like? At this tipping point in our history, we could fall on the side of complete anarchy, chaos, and lawlessness. Basically, what we have now. Or, we could fall the other way and turn into a Bernie Sanders-style socialist utopia, replete with mass public transportation, a social safety net and distribution of wealth. In this world, there would still be pockets of capitalist resistance; underground, illegal free marketers trying to preserve their old, Robber Baron ways. Therefore, a crack unit of Killer Snowflakes would be formed to root out these pockets of capitalist criminality.
Here is my
screenplay on how this might play out…
The Killer Snowflakes – Episode 1 – Stalking the Stockbrokers
FADE IN
INT. – Illegal Day Trader Speak Easy Joint – EVENING
A room full of
outlaw day traders are conducting felony free market stock transition crimes
which have been deemed illegal and immoral by the new Socialist Order. They are
totally unaware of the mortal threat approaching.
CUT TO:
EXT. – Elevated
Monorail Station. – MOMENTS LATER
A monorail stops at
an elevated station. Three people exit. They are professional Killer
Snowflakes; former Special Forces officer, CAPT. MALTESE STALLION, 50, Chicano
P.I., LARGO KEYES, 30, and ex-Vegas Chorus Line Dancer, LEGS AKIMBO, 45.
They walk down from
the elevated monorail station and walk two blocks to an alley behind a
building.
Maltese: “This is
the place. Good work tracking down the joint, Largo.”
Largo takes out a
sawed-off, pump action, shotgun from his trench coat. Maltese locks and loads
his .60 caliber mini gun. Legs ties her long blond hair in a ponytail and slips
on a pair of nine-inch, titanium spiked heels.
Largo: “No problem,
Maltese. It was easy tracking these capitalist assholes. Whenever you see a
bunch of young, white dues with pocket protectors, wearing Dockers and Hush
Puppies gathering in a building, you know there’s trouble.”
Legs: “I don’t get
it. We have a wonderful socialist utopia. Free college, universal base income,
Medicare for All, an yet these goddam capitalist survivalists keep trying
to make money the old-fashioned way…”
Maltese: “Insider
trading and stock manipulations.”
Largo: “Let’s get
‘em!”
They bust down the
door. The day traders all turn around in horror at the three Killer Snowflakes.
Day Trader: “KILLER
SNOWFLAKES! Everybody, duck and cover!”
But before they can
duck and cover, Maltese, and Largo blast the room with buckshot and lead.
Legs: “Take no
prisoners!”
Legs goes around
and applies the coup de grace to the back of the heads of still live, groaning
day traders with her nine-inch, titanium spiked heels.
Later, the Killer
Snowflakes go to a nearby Tofu Parlor for a cup of miso soup.
Legs: “So, who’s
next on the list?”
Maltese takes out a
map and sealed envelope marked: “Who’s Next.” He spreads out the map on the
table and opens the sealed envelope.
Maltese: “According
to these orders, our next objective is here.”
He points to an
area in rural Arkansas.
Maltese: “Here,
It’s here. Largo, you know anything about this?”
Largo: “Yeah,
there’s a band of feral hedge fund managers running wild out there. They call
themselves the Hedge Hogs. Tough bunch.”
Maltese: “What can
we expect from them?”
Legs leans back in
her chair and props up her shapely legs on the table, still wearing her
blood-stained, nine-inch titanium spiked heels.
Legs: “well, you
know what they say. Never expect more than a grunt from a pig.”
Maltese: “Or a
hog?”
Largo: “Yeah, or
from a hedgehog.”
We hear the
monorail station PA system.
PA System:
“Monorail bound for Rural Arkansas, now loading on elevated Station #9,”
Maltese: “That’s
us. Let’s go.”
Largo: “Station # 9 is a mile away. We’ll never make it in time.”
Legs: “Don’t be
silly. We’ll just catch the All-Purpose Express Monorail outside the door. It
goes directly to Station #9.”
Maltese locks and
loads his .60 caliber mini gun.
Maltese: God, don’t you just love living in fucking Socialist Utopia?”
FADE OUT
Episode 2: Assignment Arkansas: The Razorback’s Edge
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