Dem Guns

The crisp winter air whipped past the Senator as she walked up Capitol Hill.  Her hair, sprayed taut with aerosal, is the only thing about her that has never flopped around.  Today, after years of saying she supports the Second Amendment, she is on the Hill promoting her new bill to ban semi-automatic guns.

"Guns kill people!  We must have a mature talk about this.  If we don't, innocent people will continue to die."

To John, a reporter covering the speech, this sounded more like a threat than reasoning.  John has a few guns himself and always wondered how much safer he would be if he had to walk around DC unarmed.

"We need to take guns out of the hands of people who shouldn't have them!"

"How do we judge who shouldn't have guns?"  John asked himself.

He knew the answer would be vauge, as politics always is.  The line in the sand that kept felons from being gun owners changed to three strikes and you're out.  Then the meme became veterans.  Now it appears to be anyone not wearing a badge.

"Great.  Now it will be only cops and robbers who have them.  The rest of us can hide under our sofas and wait for the men in blue."

John closed his notebook and caught a taxi back to his  office.

Against All Odds

Bernanke sat slumped against the cold  brick wall as rain fell on him like buckets were being dumped straight above from a helicopter.  He had a hollow look on his face.  If you didn't know his story you may have viewed him as a beaten man, but that wasn't the case.  He had beaten all odds.

Bernanke stood up and walked strong into the blowing wind.  His chest was bare and his muscles rippled like an iron worker after an 8 hour shift.  Directly in from of him was the Hill and on it stood the capitol building.  He had been waiting until dark to make his move and the sun had just finished setting.

Two guards stood at the entrence.  As Bernanke walked casually passed them one said, "Hey!  You can't go in there!"  Bernanke turned coily and said, "I do what I want."  Then Bernanke took his pinky and chocked both men to death with it, at the same time.

He bent down at the door frame and set some dynomite next to it.  "I could kick these doors open if I wanted, but I like watching things explode." 

After the dust cleared he waltzed in and right up to the Bill of Rights.  He broke the glass with his forehead and took the parchment from the container.  "Look who's the bitch now?"  He asked rhetorically.

He rolled up the papers and put them in his back pocket.  "Hasta la vista, bitchez." 

He stepped outside as a helicopter landed in front of the steps.  Timmah Geithner gave him the thumbs up and Bernanke swung in.  "It's over Timmah.  It's all over."

"Timmah!"  Shrieked Geithner as he flew them away into the pitch dark night.

Bernanke's Gold

"What's this?"

Bernanke had been wandering around the basement of the Federal Reserve.  He was carrying an oil lamp and he was wearing a cloak.

"Could it be?"

He had found a map of the basement in a vault upstairs in his office which showed the building for the labyrinth that it is.  The map should that below the building were thousands of corridors leading to more corridors where many treasures were to be found.

One room had Geronimo's skull, which had been housed in the Tomb on Yale's campus, but apparently was  safely stored below DC.  Another room had one of Lincoln's top hats along with a bullet in a glass jar with "That's for screwing my wife, Jack" written on a piece of tape on the side of the jar.  The latest room Bernanke had crept into was dusty and had what looked like an alchemists cauldron.  In the cauldron was a stack of papers.  Each paper said, "United States Treasury:  Certificate of Gold".

"I found them!  I found the gold certificates!"

Bernanke was excited and scampered up the steps.  He knew just what to do with all of his new found paper gold.

"Now I can lease them and releverage the Fiat Ponzi!  Oh the Masters will be so pleased with all of the liquidity that I will provide!  Yippee!!!"