October 26, 2005
A Fitzmas Carol
www.billmon.org
At last the the cover up was done, the hard drives cleared, the secure areas swept, and the stories rehearsed. The alibis having been tested, and considered perfect, interrogatories were put upon the table, and a shovel-full of incriminating documents thrown in the shredder. Then all the vice president's staff drew round the hearth, in what Dick Cheney called a circle, meaning half a one; and at the vice president's elbow stood the office display of torture devices. Two thumbscrews and a rack missing one shackle.
These intimidated the co-conspirators, however, as well as waterboarding might have done; and the vice president passed out the grand jury subpoenas with a confident look, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Dick proposed:
"A Merry Fitzmas to us all, my dears. God bless us."
Which all the staff re-echoed.
"God bless us every one.' said Tiny Scooter, the last of all.
He sat very close to his boss's side upon his little stool. Dick held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.
"Spirit," said Bush, with an interest he had never felt before, "tell me if Tiny Scooter will escape justice."
"I see a vacant seat," replied the Ghost of Conspiracies Present, "in a White House chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will be indicted."
(snip)
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