Mick and Goofy have a backup plan

Mick and Goofy have a backup plan
By David Benjamin

“If judges were just secret legislatures declaring not what the law is but what they would like it to be, the very idea of a government by the people and for the people would be at risk.”
—Justice Neil Gorsuch

GOOFY: Jeez, Mick, I’m worried.

MICK: What now?

GOOFY: Well, gosh, there are, like 25 or 30 Democrats running against me now, and they’re all spreading fake news — about me. Golly, there’s even a Republican in the race! William what’s-his-name.

MICK: Weld.

GOOFY: Whaddya mean: “Weld!” Is that like “Pound sand!” or “Piss up a rope!” Are you insulting me?

MICK: No, boss. That’s the guy’s name.

GOOFY: What guy?

MICK: William.

GOOFY: William who?

MICK: Oh my God.

GOOFY: And then there’s my Base! I’m worried. It’s not getting any bigger. I’ve seen polls. It’s not enough, Mick!

MICK: That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about. Your Base right now is bigger than Hitler’s base was, when he took over.

GOOFY: Hitler? Aren’t we supposed to never, ever talk about Hitler?

MICK: Not in public. But we’ve been using the Schicklgruber playbook for four years now — and winning! Insult, enrage, dissemble, deceive, divide and conquer. And hope for Jill Stein to run again in 2020!

GOOFY: Jill who?

MICK: Never mind. But you should worry. Right now, you have to assume that everyone — not just Nancy, Chuck and Mueller. Everyone’s your enemy.

GOOFY: Yeah, but some people love me. No! A lot of them. The blacks love me. The Jews, too. And women! The broads just love me to death.

MICK: Dream on, Goofy.

GOOFY: And my Base! Don’t they love me?

MICK: How’s the song go? “You don’t know what love is.”

GOOFY: What song?

MICK: Love or not, boss, our ace-in-the-hole is that your Base never changes. Doesn’t grow, doesn’t shrink. They just sit there, holding the remote in one hand and their nuts in the other, sucking up Hannity on Trump TV.

GOOFY: That’s loyalty. Isn’t that good?

MICK: Yes, but…

GOOFY: But? But what?

MICK: Don’t get me wrong, boss. You’ve got your core believers. You’ve turned the GOP into an Aryan Nation support group. You’ve got an opposition divided twenty different ways. You have a national press corps so addicted to your idiotic tweets that they couldn’t find a serious issue with both hands and a divining rod. Plus, you’ve got your beer-putsch rallies and an arsenal of playground nicknames to throw around. But there’s still a chance you could blow this thing.

GOOFY: Blow it? Oh God, please don’t say that. I’d have to go back to the Southern District of New York. They don’t like me there. I could be…

MICK: Arrested, yes. Cellmates with Michael Cohen. That’s why we have a backup plan.

GOOFY: We do?

MICK: Of course, boss. The idea of seeing you in an orange jumpsuit? Gives me the giggles. It would clash with most of your six-foot neckties.

GOOFY: So what’s the plan?

MICK: Well, you remember a while ago. You declared a National Emergency?

GOOFY: Yeah, so I could build my Beautiful Wall.

MICK: Yes, beautiful, boss. And everybody said there was no emergency. You were accused of doing it just to stir up your Base?

GOOFY: Well, sure. Wasn’t that the point?

MICK: True. But the beauty part was that nothing came of it. It all just blew over. Technically, we still have a National Emergency but who notices? Who cares? You got away with it, boss. And you can get away with it again.

GOOFY: I don’t get it.

MICK: Really, you don’t get it? What a shock.

GOOFY: Okay, now you’re insulting me.

MICK: I’m just kidding, boss.

GOOFY: You shouldn’t kid me. I have no grasp of irony.

MICK: No kidding… Anyway, you remember how the Russians interfered with the 2016 election and helped you beat Hillary?

GOOFY: Wait. Haven’t I been saying for years that the Russians had nothing to do with the election? No collusion? Fake news? Eighteen angry Democrats?

MICK: Look, boss. Nobody’s gonna be even slightly surprised if you pull a complete switcheroo after three years of bellowing the exact opposite thing. That’s your style, boss. We all enjoy you for being wild-ass, crazy-Ivan unpredictable.

GOOFY: Yeah, I do got style, don’t I?

MICK: It leaks out of every orifice, boss. Anyway, you go on TV. You announce that Russian hackers have infiltrated every polling place in America. They’ve taken over Twitter and flooded Facebook with hypnotic micro-targeting.

GOOFY: Huh? Hypnotic what?

MICK: Boss, remember. What does big Sarah keep telling you?

GOOFY: Um, that I don’t have to understand it. Just say it — over and over.

MICK: Right, boss. So, you’re on TV, just like “The Apprentice.” You tell 350 million Americans that the Russian election plot, in collusion with Hillary Clinton and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, was more vast and horrible than anyone has ever seen before. You have no choice but to declare a National Emergency and cancel the election until we can find out what the hell is going on.

GOOFY: Gosh all fish-hooks, Mick! That’s a dynamite idea. I love it. But, gee. I gotta ask: Ya think we can really sell this lemon?

MICK: Boss, this one’s a walk in the park. Whatever you do, it’s all gonna go to court. And then, right on time — October, 2020 — it reaches the Supreme Court.

GOOFY: You mean… the Supreme Court can actually cancel an election?

MICK: Oh, sure. They already did. Don’t you remember Bush v. Gore?

GOOFY: Bush v. who?

MICK: Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Mitch has turned the Supreme Court into a Punch-and-Judy puppet theater, with you as grand guignol. Right now, you’ve got a lockstep lifetime majority on the Court that consists of two of your fellow sexual predators (one of whom is a self-hating Negro), a hand-picked, housebroken lapdog, a closet racist who doesn’t think most people should be allowed to vote, and a reactionary zealot with less imagination than God gave avocados. Boss, you can do anything, say anything, trample on anything that strikes your fancy and these five moral dwarfs will throw down their robes and keep your shoes dry.

GOOFY: Gee, ya think?

MICK: I don’t think. I know. Boss, there are three branches of government, and as of Brett Kavanaugh, you own two of ’em — lock, stock and sock puppets.

GOOFY. Shazam! I’ll be, like, the king of America.

MICK: That’s right, your majesty. As long as you don’t call another election.

GOOFY: But if I’m the king, then what are you?

MICK: Same as always, boss. Court jester.