Tales of Silly Prince George and the Great Inhaler

Once upon a time in the great land called New Chenia,
there lived a squirrelly young prince named George who through no particular skill of his own expected to inherit as his birthright the throne of this fine land of happy little homes and trees and churches—a homeland that was separated from the rest of the world by its beliefs that the vast oceans surrounding New Chenia afforded them peace, and that all people of Chenia were good and that there was nothing better than apple pie.
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One night, the dull witted young prince was visited by the two most august advisers of the Holy Pocketbook who, looking rather sour, advised that nothing was automatic anymore in New Chenia. He would have to earn his birthright through subterfuge, deceit and yanking the old chain just like his dad.

The young prince looked up and said nothing.

But that was not all of it, they admitted. The real test would be in having an appropriate enemy.

The advisors explained that without an enemy you were just so much chopped liver. You couldn’t deceive, defraud and defrock without an enemy. And without a worthy enemy, the prize would be lost!

This couldn’t be the young squirrelly prince thought.

After all, I have been blessed by both birth and by my father’s
Ability to rake it in when no one was looking; and of course, grandpa was no slouch in taking money from the bad guys either, he thought.

But Prince George, ignorant as he was of the ways of the two visors of the Holy Pocketbook, asked who was his enemy.
And the two said that it was important that they visit the Grand Seer to explain what must be done should he aspire to inherit the holy throne of his birth.

Of course, Prince George went to see the Grand Seer called Gillespie..
And there was much stirring and much noise when the Seer looked upon the Prince.
“You, young man, must face two foes if you are to ascribe to greater things, his voice echoing through the cave. In order to vanquish these foes, you must be capable of telling vast untruths To your followers. You must also take lessons from our great teachers. Do you have that mettle, young prince.”

Without thinking, the young squirrelly prince replied, “Sure, as heck do, sir. I’ve been taught to do all that stuff all my life. Just check my credentials. Solid as a rock; yet I haven’t done a damn except blow up a few frogs and get lucky with some oil.

The Grand Seer went on, “but that is not all of it.
The second foe is one that the Lords of the Assembly have already recognized for his weaknesses and his failings; yet secretly he is a worthy foe who is miscast in this role. He is strong of mind and hard of body. And there is a resiliency to him that will make him virtually unbeatable.

There is only one way that you, wretched incompetent creature that you are, can win and that is by distracting the voter and then getting The Grand Duke Jeb to mess up the election count!

Little Prince George thought about what the Grand Seer had said and decided to discuss this with his principal patron, his father, the Grand Senior Eminence of the Land.

So that sat together and ate old lobsters from the sea and talked about oil that came from the ground and How it made them richer than most men in good times and bad. And joked about they yanked these Arabs around by the beards, gave them guns to shoot each other and stole the oil right out of the ground.

Then they laughed and finally their talk turned to the job at hand. Little Prince George asked his father if he should listen to the Grand Seer. And the father looked at his son sternly.

“Son, if you do only one thing, it must be to listen to the words of the Grand Seer called Gillespie. He knows what is good for you and he will help you win. Just do not do what I did ten years before when the people drove me from my office.”

“But father, you had done everything wrong!…You had increased the country’s indebtedness. You had seen the economy go down hill. And you reigned over some wrong-headed policy.”

The father looked down at the son and said, ‘Son, do not be quick to judge me, son…for I have benefited mightily from my reign. I hope you shall do likewise and that some day I can sit by your ranch and we can both laugh at the foolishness of the people who elected us as we drink nectar and pop pork rinds.”

And the young man was stilled by the father’s wisdom.

“Yes, son, you will be as bad as your father. Because you didn’t inherit my brains. “ Then he leaned over to his son and whispered these three words of wisdom: “Don’t raise taxes.”

“Nevertheless, I will see that you are helped in this endeavor. I will appoint a Guardian to make sure that only goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of your life.”

And the mother of the prince George chimed in, “Amen. You were never my favorite, but You sure as hell have managed to make your brother look like a lead foot.”

“Thanks, mom. I needed that, “ replied the overcome son.

It was soon known throughout the land that there was an evil presence
That the good prince George would have to do battle with in order
To reign on high in the country of Chenia….

The bad in the world had begun with the evil called Clinton the Inhaler, He who has Whitened the Waters…He who has mangled the Monicas…
And lied to the Supreme Liars…

George thought that this guy must be good.

The Inhaler was the worst of the worst, the most evil of all of the evil ever heaped upon mankind. And George was starting to feel in his element. Now, he could swagger on the stage. Now, they were talking about stuff he could understand. Good and Evil. His favorite War.
Of course, everyone would recognize him as the White Knight even though he had never done anything good for anyone and he could build a damn good case against the Inhaler through his friends and family.
This was going to be the ultimate push-over.
But first, he needed to get his story right. And for that he turned to his
Confidantes, Card, Hughes, and Cheney—the Black Knights of the
Black Arts…

Clinton, it was learned, was the personification of all that was bad both BC (Before Clinton) and AD (after Dick Nixon)…

They thought and plotted…they concocted their plans…they hashed around their ideas…they yelled and shouted…they laughed and cried and finally out of all of lthat, the plot was hatched.

The first inkling of it appeared in the New York Slime…the Grey Lady –the Arbiter of All the Propaganda that’s Fit to Print….

The lies came out in dribs and drabs. The reporter at the New York Slime reported that this ultimate evil had been discovered to have actually caused the Great Flood. Not by himself, of course, but his great, great, great, great grandparents great, great great…and on and on, great grandparents who instigated the whole thing in the first place. In short, the DNA was in place for all future evil. And by the way, it was only through quick thinking and a heads up that Noah was able to get his act together admitted the reporter covering the incident..

Then of course, much later, the descendents of the evil-doers above had caused the great plagues to descend upon Egypt driving Moses out of town just in time with all of his tribes. And that had been the start of the exodus out of the city every summer after that.

Then, of course, there was Krakatowa whose eruption led to the downfall of Rome and enduring blackness. You got it right, another Clinton antecedent..

And naturally, this disaster was followed later by the Black Plague, which swept through Europe killing half the population. Yup, it was learned, the same folks were behind that, too.

And then somehow, after Columbus, the family’s heirs migrated to this wonderful land of BushGate only to discover that this penultimate evil had mutated into something worse.

The corruption of the Clinton Evil had caused the winds to increase,
Storms to sweep across the land; it caused temperatures to rise, and the La Nina effect to Attack our shores. Whatever went wrong it could only be laid at this Evil.

But now Prince George would deal with it. He would go to his Guardian, Lord Cheney, The Blackest of the Black Knights and gather the lords of the land, Lords Armey, Lord Newt the lapsed, and the other lords of the land to attack this ultimate evil through word and deed.

And the scribes of the Land understanding that if they did not pleasure the lords, they would not receive new licenses fell into line quickly and retold the charges against the Lord who they claimed had befouled and besieged the land in so many ways.

And the people listened and they wailed as these great outrages…

Yet, many eventually began to believe the lies.

The Great Inhaler was charged with being against the people.

He and his lady were besieged and besmirched.

He was charged for causing the bad crops, acid rain, high winds,
Strong tides, skin cancer and twenty five other heinous deeds.
And he was blackballed from the land and told they might never practice against the High Court of the Land, better known as the Court of the Five Imposters…

Eventually the people forgot all the good that the Great Clinton had accomplished and the prince was oblivious of. They had forgotten how the Clinton, the Real White Knight, had saved the land; how he had made the country whole again; how he made people proud of their land; how he managed to get work for everyone. Yet, memories being what they are, the distracted people of New Chenia voted in the Young Prince, who presumed to the penultimate healer of the land.
But the Prince quickly reverted to character, and the economy fell fallow, the crops failed; the people lost hope and the world was quickly becoming the enemy of the inhabitants of New Chenia.

But then as fortune would have it, another enemy came to the fore.
And the prince was saved once again through no fault of his own.
And his ratings soared through the roof. And the Great Exhaler, he who had made the land whole, was forgotten for now St. George had another villain who could occupy his energy and make the people forget
The Prince’s failings and his conceits.

And he was whole again as he drew his sword out of his scabbard, muttering “Take that, you Bearded Bugger.”