Case Solved: Mitch McConnell's "Himpathy" Assault Claim
Last edited Mon Oct 22, 2018, 12:34 PM - Edit history (3)
Senator Mitch McConnell's latest goo-goo-eyed crazy talk is a cuckoo-for-coconuts strategy of claiming that he himself is "literally" a victim of "assault." Apparently, someone has told him that the only way to steal someone else's thunder is to…well, literally steal it…otherwise known as "gaslighting."
Now, most sane people recognize gaslighting fairly quickly when they hear it in its typical "Not me, you!" form---for example, "I'm not the colluder, you are!" or "Who's a puppet? You're the puppet!" This type of gaslighting is the stock-in-trade of narcissists.
However, gaslighting's lesser-used, inverted cousin "Not you, me!" (most often employed by passive-aggressive types) usually takes a hot minute to sink in before the ole BS detector starts clanging like there's a five-alarm fire raging in the basement. This is the type of gaslighting Mitch attempted to engage in this past week. So far, this dress is not looking too pretty on him.
To be fair, the geezer's timing couldn't have been worse, as Mitch's own hilarious attempt to insert himself into the #MeToo Movement in quest of the mythical "Him Too" unicorn got upstaged by Twittersphere's Mommy Dearest making herself and her Sailor Son the laughingstock of the moment. But hey, I'm all for equal-opportunity ridicule. Old McTurtleneck says he wants to play, so let the games begin!
But first, the fine print: Because we are staunch supporters of the underlying principle of "We Believe Survivors," which calls for first giving an accuser the benefit of the doubt as a basis from which to launch a proper investigation with due process for all (as opposed to the "I Will Fuck You Again if You Don't Get Out of My Face" old-school method), my crackpot team of investigators and I have burned the midnight oil in a sincere effort to plow right through to the very bottom of this sad and empty barrel.
Having dispensed with the requisite amount of minimalist disclosure, we assert that, in the interest of robust transparency, the following investigative report is a full and unredacted copy of our letter to Mr. McTurtleneck in response to his demand---indeed, his preordained right as Rethuglican leader of Rich Old White Men Everywhere (ROW-ME)---for a long-awaited and well-deserved dollop of "himpathy" comeuppance:
INVESTIGATIVE REPORT: Mitch McTurtleneck Assault Allegation
Dear Sen.(ile) Mitch McTurtleneck,
So sad to hear of your recent "literal assault." Please accept our sincerest and infinitely meaningless "thoughts and prayers" as a token of our concern for the trauma you must be going through.
Although you came forth with shaky voice and a remarkably restrained, single crocodile tear to publicly proclaim the shocking details of the crime committed against you when those nasty women dared to address you and your drinking bros in the halls of Congress, we regret to inform you that your charge does not quite meet the very high bar for what constitutes "assault" in at least 28 of the 50 great states of 'Merica. And while we're sure this incident will forever be seared into the hippocampus of your brain as the worst thing ever to have happened to you, unfortunately your account is lacking in appropriate levels of specificity and sobriety, as outlined in this investigative report.
First of all, silly boy, you did not file a police report. As every right-wingnut will tell you, "That there's proof-positive that I…er, rather…someone else didn't do it!" But your failure to walk yourself down to the local cop shop is not necessarily a deal-breaker with us. As investigators, we are in possession of a mountain of evidence that this is actually quite common for someone in your position.
However, what is absolutely insane is that you chose to take your case to the airwaves. What the heck kind of due process is that, sir? Nevertheless, here we are. And because you chose to go around the very process that is rigged against you ten ways from Sunday, it is now left for us to thoroughly review and present your case to the American people.
Investigation Findings 1: Time and Place
The first issue to address in assessing the veracity of your claim is that you are unable to state the exact day, minute, and second this alleged assault occurred. As you can imagine, this casts serious doubt on the infallibility of your memory, leading many to surmise that this incident never actually happened. Not us…we're not the ones saying that. God no, we would never stick our necks that far out on the chopping block, you understand. But, you need to know for your own good that other people are saying that---just definitely not us…we're not saying that. We believe that you believe what you say you believe even if you don't believe that you can believably establish an exact time of occurrence. Got it?
Nonetheless, if you were able to submit for DNA testing something like, say, a pocket calendar with drops of your attackers' blood conveniently marking the correct date, we might then be able to believably reopen this investigation. Even better, if you could also produce an antiquated wristwatch whose hands are frozen in time at the exact moment said watch stopped ticking when it was broken during said alleged horseplay, then we could definitely revisit this critically flawed aspect of your testimony. There is, after all, some legal precedent for broken clocks acting as corroborating witnesses.
Even though you were unable to give us a precise date for when this assault supposedly happened, we nevertheless have been able to reconstruct a general timeline based upon your statement that you believe the incident occurred at some point last month during this massive party held in Washington, D.C. Outlined below is a summary of how this party came to occur, its participants, and its eventual shutdown:
Starting in September of 2018, thousands of citizens, men and women alike, began pouring onto Capitol Hill for a party that ended up lasting several weeks and of which future generations will admiringly reflect back on as the impetus for a string of "Impeach Week" traditions, including formation of the infamous "100 Indictments or Bust Club."
To the great consternation of ROW-ME members, admission to this party was free of charge. However, several bouncers were present to screen those attending; partygoers cleared of carrying concealed weapons were marked in black Sharpie with the word "I" or "We" on the palm of one hand and the word "Believe" on the other.
The people attending this party had their cell phone cameras rolling 24/7. All the news outlets were there too, even the fake ones---Faux Fox, RT (RuskieRugRats Today) and BratBart. Everyone was there to record every minute of onstage, offstage, and backstage activity surrounding the premiere of what started out as a very poorly written passion play, of sorts, with the working title "Fundamentalist Wet Dreamz."
The rising action of this stage production featured a cast of power-hungry, geriatric villains rage-screaming at women and their menfolk who, in turn, yelled back that they weren't going to let uber-rich members of this cult known as the Gross Old Perverts (GOP, for short) grab women's pussies anymore. Additionally, in an underdeveloped subplot, the villains were also mad about their priests and deacons having gotten spanked for grabbing little boys' private parts.
Randomly interjected throughout the play was another character dressed in an orangutan suit who was listed in the playbill as "The Emperor with No Clothes." Every now and then, the villains would trot him out onto the stage where he would screech, jump up and down, scratch his crotch, and pretend to be relevant to the plot line.
The stage design of the play was quite impressive. One of its backdrops was a rolling screen showing thousands dying in hurricanes because they couldn't seem to catch one of those damn flying paper towel rolls to mop up all the water around them. Meanwhile, an equally impressive, flame-throwing prop hung overhead throughout the play---a massive death comet hurtling toward Earth. This was noted in the playbill as a metaphorical ticking clock for the timeframe in which the GOP cultists needed to complete their dastardly deeds.
In one scene of the play, a video screen backdrop featured this giant wall built of dog cages holding crying children. At the base of the wall, an angry mob wearing red ballcaps were frantically engorging themselves on scraps of red meat. Their hats were emblazoned with an acronym---MAGA, meaning "Make America Gag Again"---that identified them as minions of the GOP cult. Then this character wearing a yellow wig appeared onstage with a huge dog whistle. As soon as he pretended to blow it, the angry red-hat mob puffed their chests with rage and started chanting about locking up more people and needing more babies to sacrifice. Dark stuff, to be sure…
Anyway, the climax of the play involved a doddering False Prophet hoisting herself on her own petard to enable the anointment of a Grand Poobah who the GOP cult had groomed for years to do their bidding. In the play's falling action, this self-inflated character scurries off to the GOP's underground lair where he is to be initiated into the dark arts by four black-robed Horsemen of the Apocalypse whose day jobs involve sitting on this very high bench where they pass judgments that enslave people to corporate dark money and crushing debt for generations to come.
For reasons outlined below, the play's ending never reached the point of being revealed to the public. Sources tell us the full manuscript of the play is currently locked away in the National Enquirer vault. Rumor has it, however, that the conclusion of the play centers on the Four Horsemen using the Grand Poobah as their linchpin in rewriting the People's Constitution to include a mixture of scenes from "The Handmaid's Tale" and "The Hunger Games."
Now, the producers of this play only intended to put on a "soft opening" so as to hone the script and figure out how far they could push the dialogue without "jumping the shark." However, one of the actors, this drunken frat boy who was supposed to be playing the pretend role of a sober judge, went all rogue on everybody, catching the attention of the media as he veered wildly off-script.
The next thing you know, one of the audience members, who recognized the frat boy as a criminal from her own real-life past, jumped onto the stage and began delivering her own lines, greatly improving the play's trajectory, which had to that point lacked a hero character. However, this unplanned upstaging enraged the villain actors who started lashing out at audience members because they were cheering her on and throwing her roses.
Yet, the more the villains hissed and thrashed about, now themselves completely off-script, the more the audience began to identify with the cast members who were playing the parts of enraged citizens pushing back against the evil GOP cult. From there, as you know senator, all hell broke loose as word spread like wildfire that "Rocky Horror Picture Show 2" was playing a one-time, live engagement in the nation's capital.
Thousands flooded into D.C., with overflow from the Capitol Building spilling out into the streets for miles around and days on end as a full-blown interactive theater event was born. Just as occurred with its 1975 predecessor, the musical science-fiction, horror-comedy show being presented within the Congressional Playhouse inspired fans to re-enact scenes in the streets, with most choosing to play the role of protesters. Many brought their own props mimicking those used in the play, including signs, beer hats, yearbooks, and old calendars that participants placed over their heads whenever it started to rain.
On the whole, a good time was had by all as this cultural phenomenon played out. The media marveled at how, for such a large, ongoing event, the crowd was remarkably well-behaved. Police records reveal there were no accidents or incidents of violence resulting from the mega-drama. The only arrests occurring happened on Capitol grounds when some participants were cited for trespassing on private property. They were, of course, immediately released when it was discovered that the Capitol Building is public property owned by the People.
Meanwhile, a rift had developed amongst the play's executive producers. The white-haired money men of the group were finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with the daily rewrites of the play as the public took over the narrative and inserted more and more characters. The younger, more energetic co-producers wanted to go for a longer engagement because they felt the organic story being written was truer to life than the original scripted version.
Finally, though, two events brought the play and its surrounding festivities to an abrupt, premature ending. First, the thespians playing the GOP villain roles had become terrified of the mirrors that audience members were holding up to them as they performed. They were also dispirited by the scathing reviews they were getting in the press for their amateur overacting while the good-guy cast was receiving raves. Thus, the anti-hero actors threatened to take their marbles and go home if the producers didn't return the play to its originally written script and wrap the whole thing up post-haste.
The next thing to occur was arguably even more threatening to the producers. A scrappy, bald-headed talent agent showed up with another cast of characters to add to the play. Because this very same guy had previously been involved in taking down the career of the actor who could now only get roles dressed up as an orangutan, everyone got really scared about where this might be heading.
At that point, the play's producers reunited and rushed through to the climax, which they then falsely proclaimed to be the ending of the play as the Grand Poobah character scurried off to the GOP lair in its closing scene. With no other scenes being played out in public, the D.C. party was shut down and everyone was encouraged to go home and forget about the spectacle they had just witnessed.
This concludes our assessment of time and place for when you claim the alleged assault against you occurred, senator. We regret to inform you that of the thousands of attendees at this mega-party, not a single person has come forth to corroborate your claim of assault. Furthermore, we have scoured the social media landscape and of the thousands of clips documenting this party over several weeks, none appear to have captured any such incident of assault.
Investigation Findings 2: Inconclusive Testimony
One highly troubling aspect of your case, sir, is your own testimony in this regard. We are particularly concerned about your inability to state the exact number of women allegedly assaulting you, which we consider to be highly suspect. When we interviewed you as part of this investigation, you first attempted to circumvent this question by saying, "Well, I said 'literally.' That's a synonym for 'numerically,' you know. So, there's your number, literally. Good enough?" Umm, no, not exactly.
As we continued to press you on this critical detail, you consistently dodged the question with answers such as, "Who's to say how many women there are in America?" and "Numbers, schnumbers, let's just make shit up and call it a 'mob,' okay? That covers every number above one, right?" Your statements on this issue have been duly noted for the record, sir, and we can say with confidence that they do not help your case.
Another element of your assault charge that concerns us is your description of the alleged assailants as "vaginas shooting laser beams from blood-red eyes." We're afraid this is just a bit too vague to sufficiently identify the perps. Not only were you unable to provide basic descriptions of your supposed assaulters, you couldn't even remember their hair styles, for goodness sake. Most tellingly, you couldn't say for sure whether they were wearing Gucci heels or Nike running shoes. You claim the weapons your assaulters attacked the air with were handheld signs, yet you are unable to identify the shades of nail polish on the fingers that clutched those signs. Clearly, your failure to distinguish between such obscure, inane details substantially bolsters the alternate reality that you are "confused" about what you thought you saw and heard.
Assault is a very "up close" kind of crime, senator. If your alleged assault occurred in broad daylight, as you say it did, and your assailants weren't wearing ski masks, which you say they weren't, then why did every sketch artist's attempt to help you identify your attackers result in the same drawing depicting a line-up of oddly shaped pink hats? Are you obsessed with hats, sir? Is this perhaps a fetish that clouds your vision, making it impossible for you to discern the details of women's faces?
Returning to the idea that assault is a crime of close proximity, we would also like to know why you are incapable of describing the smell of your attackers' breath as either minty fresh or reeking of Kentucky bourbon? As there is ample video footage in public archives of you turning up your nose and flaring your nostrils at the smell of bi-partisan colleagues all the way across the room from you, we find it curious that your olfactory senses were inexplicably out to lunch when an arguably much more menacing nemesis was supposedly mere inches from you.
Also, you say your assaulters were shouting at you as they committed this crime. Yet, you are unable to recall anything they said to you other than, "mitu-mitu," which you say you feared to be a form of sadistic torture they were attempting to subject you to. We have done exhaustive research on this term, senator, and the closest thing we have found is a similarly named small village in Columbia that is run by very tall Amazon women. Are you sure you're not simply projecting an irrational fear of powerful, foreign women, sir? Perhaps…and this is merely speculation on our part…but, perhaps you have reached the point where you now see all American women as strong Amazonians and that scares the bejeezus out of you. We're just sayin'…something to think about here.
Additionally, when we asked what haunts you most about this unfortunate incident, the thing you can't ever shake, you described the knuckles of these women as they tightly gripped their signs. As we are unable to find the appropriate words to summarize your answer, we've elected to simply enter into the record your full response, which is as follows:
"Well, if you're asking me what keeps me awake at night, what snaps me out of the few sweat-soaked moments of sleep that I've had since this occurred, I would have to say it is the image of those women's knuckles. They were holding onto these homemade signs so tightly that their knuckles were white…white I say! I am not a young man, and I have to say that in all my years no one ever told me, and I never observed it myself until now, that people other than Caucasians can actually have white knuckles. It shook me to my core, I tell you! It's upended everything I've always believed about my own racial superiority. It makes me feel like the man upstairs is laughing uproariously at me…just another cruel joke at my expense! Those knuckles haunt my dreams."
Okay, then…duly noted, senator.
Investigation Findings 3: Alleged Injuries
Our investigation also addresses the alleged injuries you claim to have sustained. After failing to come to your press conference with pictures of your wounds, which would have helped establish your case, your press office followed up by releasing a picture of your neck with this accompanying statement:
"Senator Mitch McTurtleneck sustained neck injuries after several women repeatedly pounded him over the head with professionally printed signs advertising the television series 'Survivor.' Doctors examining the leader of the Senate described his condition as a rare but irreversible condition commonly known as 'accordion neck.' As a result of this assault, the senator must now forever feel the pain of his chin jabbing into his chest as his eyes appear to be popping out of his head because he has to roll them upward to make eye contact with those he chooses to excoriate (as is his right as the leader of ROW-ME)."
While we commend your staff for their creative effort in trying to cover for you, senator, we regret to inform you that thousands of other pictures have surfaced, some dating 50 years back, that show you have apparently suffered from "accordion neck" for many decades. This latest evidence leads us to believe that you have indeed experienced the type of assault you have described---just not when and by whom you claim.
[Also, we would be remiss to not point out that your own testimony described the signs wielded by your alleged assaulters as "homemade," while the statement from your office describes these signs as "professionally printed." Although this is not actually germane to the investigation, it is our duty to note even the slightest discrepancies.]
In a further development, after being soundly trounced online by the grassroots hashtag campaign #ShowUsYourBruisesMitch, you came forth in a second press conference with an explanation for why you have no apparent bruises, scratches, or gaping wounds indicative of the type of "literal assault" you described as being inflicted upon you. For the record, your on-camera statement at that time was as follows:
"I know my surname has caused many people to joke over the years that I am a descendant of amphibians. The truth of the matter, however, is that my mother was spawned from a long succession of lizard-people. That means I have just enough reptilian---not amphibian---DNA for my body to spontaneously heal. How else do you think I've survived as a member of the Senate for these many decades with no apparent signs of leaving anytime soon? I can personally attest to you that I've had my own tail chewed off many times, and it just keeps growing back. But let's be clear about one thing here, just because my wounds heal overnight does not mean I don't feel the pain. And that is what needs to be focused on here---my pain."
Well, if you say so, senator…that certainly puts the injuries portion of this investigation to bed, doesn't it?
Investigation Findings 4: Lack of Corroborating Witnesses
Even though we find your own testimony in this matter has more holes than a swarm of bacteria farting its way through a vat of Swiss cheese, we nonetheless wanted to leave no stone unturned in our pursuit of himpathy for you, Mr. Turtleneck. Therefore, we have also given an obligatory, cursory glance at your list of potential corroborating witnesses.
Regarding the 50 Rethuglican senators you requested us to speak to as witnesses on your behalf, we would refer you to new Department of Justice guidelines, which state that only witnesses for the accused are required to be interviewed in assault allegation cases. As a reminder, sir, you are the accuser in this case. Under the new rules of due process, the accuser's witnesses can only be interviewed if deemed "credible," which is a term whose definition is classified and, therefore, not open to debate by the American people. But, we think most can figure out on their own the particular criteria disqualifying the senators on your list from meeting the "credibility" designation. Therefore, we did not take their testimony.
However, on the off-chance that a small number of Americans might think these new rules are unfair, we have initiated "CYA Hotline" whereby any potential witnesses who did not receive interviews can phone in their testimony at the following number: 867-5309. After listening to a pre-recorded message delivered by a pleasant-sounding young woman named Jenny, witnesses can record their statements up to a maximum allowable time of two minutes. All messages will be screened by Mimi Tootunes, LLC and any testimony deemed worthy of being heard will be converted into lyrics and sung as a medley on the steps of the Supreme Court at a date to be announced after the Midterm Elections.
Regarding the other three non-senatorial witnesses you've named as potentially having been in the vicinity of the alleged assault when it occurred, we discovered that one of them, former statesman Mr. Frederick Douglass, has long been deceased and therefore could not have been present to witness your allegation. We have, however, deemed your remaining two witnesses to be credible and, as such, have completed interviews "under penalty of felony" with each of them.
Your first witness, activist Ms. Statue de la Liberté, maintains she is not aware of having ever met you, although she doesn't rule it out entirely as she has entertained a large number of guests through the years in her penthouse suite overlooking New York Harbor. However, Ms. Liberté asserts she has never been to Washington, D.C., the site of your alleged assault. In fact, she says she has not stepped foot out of the state of New York since her arrival from France many years ago.
Furthermore, Ms. Liberté claims you only put her name on your list of witnesses so as to bring her immigration status to the attention of ICE agents who are now constructing a cage around her Ellis Island hi-rise. She told our investigators that she suspected foul play was afoot when men dressed in riot gear busted down her golden door last month waving a warrant to search for "tired, poor, and huddled masses." When she protested, they told her to "shut up and sit down" because they had it on good authority that her home was being used to shelter "wretched refuse from teeming shores."
Nevertheless, she persisted. Ms. Liberté told the agents that she not only would not sit down, but that she could not sit down as she was afflicted with "greyscale disease" which made her legs hard as stone and her knees unbendable. After consulting their cellphones and discovering, much to their chagrin, that greyscale was indeed a thing (per countless "Game of Thrones" experts), the jackbooted thugs flew into a rage and proceeded to torture Ms. Liberté by waterboarding her previously brightly burning torch.
OMG…seriously, senator?
Moving on to your other named witness, judge-and-jury advocate Lady Scalae Justitiae has testified that she does not recollect being present during the incident you describe. She further said that even if she was present, she did not see a thing because she has been wearing a blindfold for the last several years while playing a perpetual courtroom game of "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" using a very large sword.
When asked whether she could at least attest to your integrity, Lady Justitiae sighed and said, "No, not anymore." When asked what had changed in her relationship with you, she told a story of a private party in the basement of the White House during which everyone had been drinking a lot of beer:
Lady Justitiae testified that as she started down a hallway to leave the party, she found it difficult to walk straight. Then she heard a voice she knew to be that of a guy they call Teeny Weenie Grahamcracker. He was laughing hysterically as he ran down the hall screaming at the top of his lungs in an exaggerated Southern drawl, "Mitch McTurtleneck just ralphed in one of Lady Justitiae's scales and pissed in the other!" She then fled the premises, slipping and sliding as vile liquids sloshed all around her…never to return to that house of horrors again.
Holding back her tears, Lady Justitiae told investigators, "I can't begin to comprehend what goes through the minds of 76-year-old boys who do such things, but it was horrible and hurtful. I have to carry those scales around with me everywhere I go to maintain my balance because of inner ear problems. I pray no other person with a pre-existing condition is ever treated that way again."
Wow…just…wow. Needless to say, sir, the corroborating-witness aspect of your case has been a total bust.
Investigation Findings 5: Lack of Corroborating Evidence
As has already been noted in previous sections of this report, there appears to be a severe lack of corroboration supporting your claim---no DNA evidence, inadequate suspect descriptions, gaping memory gaps on your part, inability to prove injury, and no credible supporting witnesses (as opposed to very credible witnesses impugning your motives for making such a charge).
As also previously noted, we were unable to locate from social media any video and/or audio of your alleged assault. Despite all of this, we surmised that, surely, video evidence must exist somewhere if an actual assault upon you had indeed occurred. Unlike most assaults, which are committed behind closed doors, you have said on-the-record that your alleged "literal assault" occurred in a very public, governmental setting that just so happens to have hundreds of taxpayer-funded cameras trained on it inside and out.
Therefore, in the interest of thoroughly investigating your claim, we engaged A/V analysts to review all Capitol Building footage from the past several weeks. After hours upon hours spent scanning every pixel of said footage (manpower of which was also taxpayer-funded), authorities have confirmed that no electronic evidence exists to support your claim. Experts submitting testimony for this report have certified that, although the footage reveals an unusually high volume of tourists in the Capitol for this time of year, nothing out of the ordinary for a thriving democracy appears to have occurred.
Moving on, the final corroborating evidence we have chosen to address in this report is that of polygraph testing. Although you offered to take a lie detector test to support the veracity of your allegation, we didn't take you up on that offer because, in the first place, it just wouldn't be fair to the other side (should they ever be identified) who might find themselves in a real pickle to either do the same or risk looking guilty.
Secondly, and this is the greater problem, say your polygraph said you were telling the truth; hell, that would mean there's a pretty good shot that theirs would call them out as dirty, stinking liars. Or vice versa…could go either way! Do you have any idea of the havoc that would rain down on our economy with such information? Why, that would upset the delicate balance of both the gambling world and the news industry, both of which rely on prolonged anticipation and fantasy to survive, not facts and near-certain outcomes! No sir, we just couldn't go down that slippery slope.
Additionally, while polygraphs are not permissible in court, there is case law handed down a few years ago by this D.C. federal judge named Bart Kava-Naughty who wrote out a whole laundry list of exceptions for when it is perfectly legal to compel someone to be polygraphed, including for investigations such as this one. Arguably, the elements of your particular case stick out like a sore thumb on that list; hell, it practically leaps off the page! However, we decided it was in the "best interest of the country" to keep that little nugget of information on the down low.
We're sure you would agree that national security is much more important than your own little, individual concern in overcoming the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) you say you have, which may or may not have been caused by this so-called assault. We're not even saying anything remotely close to national security is involved here either, but still, surely you can't argue with "patriotism," right? Go 'Merica.
Investigation Findings 6: Female Assistant / Sex Crimes Fundamentalist / Sometime Prosecutor
Now, since PTSD has been brought up as a component of your case, we want to make clear that no one is saying you don't have some level of anxiety going on. We think you do. Truth be told, we wish we could just shout as loud and as angrily as possible that you're batshit crazy and your whole story is nothing more than a deep-state conspiracy that you got rope-a-doped into when you were still in diapers! But, no, that's not who we are anymore. No, no…we resolved not to go there this time because you, like all survivors, deserve to be heard.
Instead, as responsible members of an enlightened society, we took the extraordinary step in our investigation to consult with Ms. Pritchel "Aunt Lydia" Bitchwell, a fundamentalist sex crimes prosecutor who lives in the desert, eats fried eggs right off the 200-degree sidewalk in front of her house, and has a penchant for punishing women while downplaying any role that men might have in perpetuating "rape culture" (which, according to Ms. Bitchwell, is just another deep-state conspiracy theory).
Ms. Bitchwell's credentials speak for themselves: Her most famous case involves her office knowingly sending a woman to prison on false charges and keeping the gal locked up for 10 whole years while withholding exculpatory evidence. Meanwhile, after falling in cahoots with an apeshit sheriff that an orange baboon would eventually pardon, she helped to squirrel away in the back room over 4,300 untested, dust-covered rape kits. When a new sheriff did eventually come to town, this super-duper prosecutor was forced to begrudgingly start investigating those kits, from which she got one whole conviction! So many sperm…so little time.
So, you see, Mr. Turtleneck, it's not like you can say the expert we brought in to look at your case held any kind of bias against you, for goodness sake---you're a man! Yet, even this man-loving, woman-bashing "female assistant" advised us that you haven't really given us a whole lot to work with here. She said that if only you had a few names of some women suspects she could interrogate, she would have been more than happy to write up a report claiming they were guilty based on no evidence whatsoever. Easy peasy.
When we asked Ms. Bitchwell if she could at least provide us a written report summarizing the salient points of your side of the case, she exclaimed most emphatically, "Hell no! It's against my religion to disparage the male species! You realize with this guy's testimony, that's what you'd be asking me to do, don't you? DON'T YOU?!! I can't…no, I won't do it. No, I say! You can't make me!"
After sitting Ms. Bitchwell down at the toddler's desk that we keep in our office for the sole purpose of putting uppity and/or fanatical people in their place, she finally calmed down and thought long and hard about what would be the best course of action for you to come out of this with the least amount of egg on your face.
Finally, she advised us that the most humane way to handle a seemingly unfounded assault charge like yours is to first gently acknowledge that, yes, you probably do have PTSD. Then, she said we should suggest to you, again gently, that this doesn't necessarily mean all of the panic attacks you clearly suffer from have been precipitated by the alleged assault bouncing around in your brain that you just can't seem to shake.
After letting that sink in for a moment, Mr. McTurtleneck, we are supposed to then encourage you to rethink your allegation because there really are so many other things that could be contributing to your disorder and, thus, clouding your judgment about what actually has happened to you---like, for example, your anxiety over the $800,000 you took from that Russian oligarch whose properties are being confiscated by this tall Special Counsel guy even as we speak…or, the worry you must be feeling about whether mainstream media is ever going to look deeper into that drug bust on your father-in-law's tanker while your wife holds the position of Secretary of Transportation…you know, little things like that.
Conclusion: Empty Barrel Lacks Juice
We think you will agree, Mr. McTurtleneck, that your allegation of "literal assault" has been given much more serious consideration and intensive investigation than any similar accusation would have received if you were instead of the female species.
As such, having done the deep-dive to the very bottom of this empty barrel, we conclude that the findings of our investigation, painstakingly outlined herein, reveal your allegation to be wholly without merit. Furthermore, any continuing outbursts on your part regarding this matter deserve to be roundly criticized, mocked, and ridiculed as the bullshit it clearly is.
Recommendations: GOTV
For those persons capable of making it to the end of this lengthy investigative report, we congratulate you and heartily commend your public-school teachers for not only educating you to read something longer than a meme, but also for instilling in you the good sense of what it takes to be a true citizen in support of democracy.
We would further suggest that if you are offended by the unfounded "himpathy" claims of Mr. McTurtleneck and his ROW-ME partners-in-crime, the best way to put an end to their baseless charges and general skullduggery is to do the following by Tuesday, November 6, 2018:
Log off your computers, get off your couches, lift your heads up from your phones for one hot second, and GO VOTE THEM OUT. Then do the same in 2020. Easy peasy.
Yours truly,
Investigative Committee for the American M.O.B. (Majority Opinion Blowback)
"My American M.O.B. over your GOP-Russian Mob any day, any time…Let's roll!" 
And now for the fine, fine print: Should anyone reading this report be idiotic enough to think they can sue our committee for engaging in the brilliant art of satirical expression as protected by the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, we hear there's a scrappy, bald-headed lawyer out there who's likely to kick you right back in the nuts and make you pay bigly for the pleasure. 
Just sayin'…
= new reply since forum marked as read
Welcome to DU.
Thank you! K&R!! 
What I love most about satire pieces is that it's like 200 memes in one place. The downside is that there are no pictures, so obviously it only appeals to readers. #MARA---Make America Read Again! 
