I remember when Richard Nixon resigned, and the National Lampoon's cover the following month said, "Oh no!" After the rich vein of satirical gold that Tricky Dick had provided, their panic was palpable. I think I'm going to have the same reaction soon. Now that Tom "Giant Flying Cockroach" DeLay is being deserted by the administration, denounced by fellow Republican Chris Shays, turned on by his former good pal Jack Abramoff, and even denied three times by Rick Man-on-Dog Santorum, I'm betting that by summer DeLay will just be a dessicated stain on the kitchen linoleum of America...until he's rehabilitated, of course. Even if you're a convicted felon, the Republicans always manage to find a place for their vilest creatures.
Apparently, Karl Rove is finished with DeLay and ready to flush him with extreme prejudice, perhaps even leaving a revolver on the Bugman's coffee table after a late night visit. "I'll leave it to you, Tom. You have two ways out of this. Make the right choice."
So there the Cockroach sits, thinking about all that he has accomplished, and how close he has come to becoming the Heinrich Himmler of America, only to be slapped down by these weak sisters surrounding Bush. By his lights, the theofascist coup he hoped to inspire was ripe for the plucking--all that was needed was the will. How he has been betrayed! The true believers remain, of course, but...well, even the Cockroach has to admit they're nuts.
He regards the pistol in front of him. He stands up, picks up the gun.
"Fuckin' Rove," he says out loud. "Goddamn drama queen."
He aims the pistol at a photo on the wall, a picture of the Cockroach in happier days, shaking hands with El Presidente.
"Backstabber," he mutters bitterly. He flips open the cylinder of the revolver. It's empty. Karl's last little joke before he turns on the gas for the Giant Flying Cockroach.
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