Girl Power, page 9
Why?"
"Well, Crowe, sometimes you have to watch the enemy so you know what
they're up to. You don't think the Dembos and a cadre of gotchas watch Wolf
News and listen to our army of radio hosts to find out what we're up to and
check for inconsistencies so they can rat us out to the lazy mainstream media?"
"I never thought about it."
"No offense, but that’s the difference between us. I'm always thinking and
scheming and you, well, you're still learning. Son, you're in an important
position. You can't let your guard down and you have to become as devious as I
am." "Yes, sir, I'm trying. You are the most devious man I know. You are my…"
fucking "…role model."
"Well, thank you, Crowe."
"You're welcome sir. What is it you called about?"
"This crackpot new women's party! Women, they're always whining about
something and getting in our way."
Crowe chuckled. "That might be, Boss, but it's nice to have one around
when you, you know, feel like having one around."
"No, I don't know. What do you think I am, some sex crazed pervert?"
"Sorry, sir. You were going to tell me what you want."
"Yes, these two women who appeared on The Winfred Opry Show. Sally
Cummings and Lindy Rollins. I want you to put some people up to investigate
them. I want to know all their dirty little secrets."
"That could get expensive, sir."
"Crowe, you have to realize our backers have more money than the U.S.
Government."
"Yes, sir. And now they want to buy it."
"That may be, but it's none of our business. Is it?"
"No, sir. Anything else?"
"Yes. I need you to guest on a show, like they did, but not Wolf News. We
don't need to be preaching to our choir. We need to reach the viewers to whom
this new party might appeal. We need somebody out there to counter the poison
they spew out."
"Did they lie?"
"Not overtly, but there were plenty of innuendos and of course they harped
on about our alleged, war on women."
"Yes, sir. What did they say?"
"Crowe, you're the party chairman. I'm sure you could dig up a video of the show somewhere."
"Yes, Boss, I'll get right on it."
When Crowe finished with Rogue, he rang Willie Joe Flounder. "Yes, Boss?"
"Can you come up here? I need you to do some things."
Five minutes later, Willie Joe slipped in. "Yes, Boss. What do you need?"
"I just had a talk with our strategist, and he wants us to do certain things."
Willie Joe sat in a chair, but didn't put his feet on the desk. "Rogue? What does he want?"
Crowe smiled, self-satisfied that his underling kept his feet off his desk. "He wants us to put a team together for the purpose of getting the lowdown on the
founders of that new women's party—Cummings and Rollins."
"What if there is no lowdown."
Crowe smirked and frowned. "There's always a lowdown."
Willie Joe nodded. "Probably, but what if there isn't.
Crowe took a big, impatient breath. "We do what we always do."
Willie Joe smiled. "I love dirty tricks. Is that all?"
"No. I need a video of today's Winfred Opry show. Then I need you to pull
some strings and get me on as a guest on a talk show, a.s.a.p."
"Not a problem. I can get you on Willie O'Blarney or Shawn Hinsanity
tonight."
"No, the Boss, I mean our strategist, said no Wolf News."
~ * * ~
Half a dozen members of the staff barged into Sally's office, smiling and
giggling. Millie held a magnum of champagne, while Carla carried a stack of
plastic glasses. "Celebration time!" Brenda smiled, "Time for some bubbly."
Sally smiled back, but remained seated. "I knew it was going to be a great
day. What're we celebrating?"
Millie began opening the champagne. "Two things—"
Brenda said, "Three things if we count you and Lindy's spectacular guest
appearance on Winfred's show." Brenda gazed at Millie. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."
"That's all right." Millie turned to Sally. "Beside your wonderful interview with Winfred Opry, and her generous donation, we hit a hundred candidates,
and an hour later we hit a million members."
Sally's jaw dropped. "A million members? I had no idea we had that many.
The last time I checked, we had just under five hundred thousand."
Carla laughed. "It's the show you were on. Women are signing up in
droves."
Sally glanced at everyone. "Really?" When they all nodded, Sally rose. "I propose a toast then."
Millie popped the plastic cork and poured champagne into the nine plastic
glasses.
The ladies lifted their newly filled glasses in preparation of the toast.
"A toast to the best damn entertainer on TV, our new friend and benefactor, Winfred Opry."
They clinked their glasses as a group and said in unison, "To Winfred
Opry," and sipped their bubbly.
~ * * ~
Crowe Magnon's office - Monday morning
Crowe glanced up as Willie Joe walked into his office holding a plastic case
and a memo pad. He handed the plastic case to Crowe. "Here's the video from Friday's show"
Crowe favored Willie Joe with a rare smile. "Thank you."
Willie Joe took a seat. "You're welcome. I also got our 'A' team, the 'Merry Mischief Makers', on the lowdown thing."
"Good. Anything yet?"
Willie Joe crinkled up his lips and frowned. "Really Boss, it's only been…"
He glanced at his watch. "…sixty hours, forty-eight of which were the weekend."
"Sorry, I guess I'm a little anxious. What about the shows?"
"That's a bit of a problem. The Sunday shows are all booked up for two
weeks, as are the morning shows."
Crowe began to worry. Rogue is a fat turd, but I don't want to ruffle his feathers by letting him down. "What about the late night shows?"
"Except for that late, late, late show, One for the Road, they're either booked a month ahead or they're not interested."
Crowe rolled his eyes. "Geeze, I've never even heard of that show. What
time is it on?"
"Two to three a.m."
"Christ, what kind of viewership do they have?"
Willie Joe shrugged. "A few thousand, I imagine."
"Forget it." Crowe dug his large hands into his sandy mane. "I'd probably reach more liberals and indies slumming on the Wolf News O'Blarney Show,
than that."
The corners of Willie Joe's lips curved up into a smile. "There's another
show I can get you on anytime—starting tonight, but you're not going to like it."
~ * * ~
Crowe Magnon waited off-set as Rose Maddock went through her five-
minute monologue about her next guest—him.
Maybe I made a mistake.
Rose Maddock was, after all, a ball-buster—correction—a Republican ball-
buster. If social security is the third rail of politics, Rose Maddock was the
Republican third rail of talk TV. No one gets anything past the notorious Rose
Maddock.
But, what choice do I have? I had to get on a show and counter what those SAFE
bitches said on Winfred Opry's show.
Shivers ran down his spine as Rose introduced him, "Mr. Crowe Magnon,
welcome."
He froze for a moment. Her voice sounded somewhat cheerful. Is she
mocking me? It doesn't matter. I can't do anything about it now.
He forced his right foot forward and then his left. Remember to smile.
Wearing his most gracious smile, he soon shook Rose's warm, welcoming
hand with his cool, sweaty one. As he sat down, she inspected her hand and
wiped it on her pants.
"Well, I'm really glad you could join us. It's not every day we get favored with a Republican guest, let alone one of your background and stature."
Answer her you fool. "Ah yes, Rose, I'm looking forward to it. After a while, you get tired of all the scripted questions and answers at Wolf News."
Rose seemed to think about what he said for a few seconds then gazed at
him and smiled. "Well, we're glad to have you with us. Let me ask you, was there anything I just said that you would like to correct or comment on?"
Damn, I didn't pay attention to the liberal pabulum she just spouted. She did say war on women. "Only that this so-called war on women is a fabrication." Crowe paused to scratch his suddenly itchy nose."
Rose posed a gotcha grin. "Really, there's no war on women?"
He sighed and continued, "Let me state categorically, there is no Republican war on women."
"Ow!"He reached for his nose and squeezed it—hard.
Rose looked on, confused, but sympathetic. "Are you all right?" he told me that regardless of ability, the odds were with the male candidate and they'd not only back him, they'd do everything to thwart my effort if I ran against their
wishes.
Holding his nose, he replied in a chipmunk voice, "I think so. I just had a pain shoot through my nose. I'm sorry."
"That's okay. As long as you're okay."
All of a sudden, he recalled what Karol Rogue had said to him the day
before. Just deny 'the war on women' until your nose begins to grow. "Does my nose look the same?"
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Is it red, did it, maybe get any bigger, any
longer?"
"Longer? No. Not that I can tell. Do you feel like continuing?"
Crowe nodded. "Certainly."
"Okay, let's move on. You claim there is not a war on women."
"That's right." Crowe's nose tingled.
Rose rolled her eyes as she smiled. "Okay since there's no war on women,
how do you explain the continuing hostility toward equal pay for equal work
laws by republican legislators?"
He shrugged again. "Beats me. Must be coincidence."
Crowe could tell Rose wasn't buying it, the way she pursed her lips and
glanced off to the side. "Do you know what many law enforcement officials say?"
"Not really."
"They say there is no such thing as coincidence."
"I can't help it. That's the only explanation."
"Fair enough. Is it a coincidence that most Republican legislators want to
defund Planned Parenthood?"
Crowe scratched the bald top of his head then ran his fingers through his shaggy mane. "Probably."
"Okay. What about the fact that the House passed a bill aimed at Women's
contraception, which would make everyone's healthcare subject to the whim of
their employers."
Crowe gritted his teeth when he reflexively shrugged a third time. "It's the only explanation."
Rose leaned forward. "And is it a coincidence when these legislators write
these bills? Something, maybe a republican male imp who hates women, takes
over their mind and makes them write and write? And, when they finish, voila, they have a bill requiring a trans-vaginal ultrasound for any woman who needs
an abortion. And, this miraculously not only happens in Texas, but Virginia,
North Carolina and even Pennsylvania.
"Or maybe they have an epiphany and write a 'Personhood' bill, which
states that a woman's egg becomes a person at the moment of conception, or
when they create a seventy-two hour waiting period for an abortion to proceed
or a twenty week cutoff for abortions, which in Arizona, starts from the
beginning of a woman's last period. Mr. Magnon, the list goes on and on. Did
you know there have been hundreds of anti-abortion bills proposed or passed in
various states since the Republican landslide of 2010?"
Crowe ran his hands through his hair, giving him time to think.
This is what I was afraid of. This is why they say Rose Maddock is the Big No, No!
A few seconds passed as he contemplated his response.
"Mr. Magnon?"
"Yes, I heard you."
"There is a Republican war on women, isn't there? Be truthful."
"No!" His nose tickled and he scratched it.
"You remember how we talked about law enforcement official doubting the
existence of coincidence in relation to crime?"
"Yes!"
"Well, when it comes to politics, I believe there are no coincidences. I don't know why you're doing it—especially in an election year, it makes no sense—but
the overwhelming evidence points to a coordinated and concerted, large-scale,
unwarranted, war on women."
"No, no. Please, don't say that. Trust me. We are not waging a war on
women. Arrrghhh." All at once, a second, more intense tearing pain shot through Crowe's nose. He reached up to his nose with both hands, and squeezed tightly
in an unsuccessful attempt to keep it from growing.
"Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"My nose, my nose!"
"What?"
Crowe glanced at Rose who was wide-eyed. "Ahhhheeeeaaa! My nose, it's
killing me. Can't you see it?" He couldn't believe it. His nose felt longer than his erect penis. "A mirror. Do you have a mirror?"
"Why?"
"To see my nose. I can't stand it, the ripping and tearing, the bones moving around."
"Behind you."
Crowe turned and saw a floor to ceiling mirrored wall. He jumped off his
stool and ran up to it. Oh my God, it must be a foot long and I'm on national television.
~ * * ~
Crowe turned to Rose. "I gotta go."
"Where?" Rose asked, puzzled at her guest's bizarre behavior.
"To the emergency room."
Rose shook her head in disbelief as he ran out.
"Folks, I have had at least a thousand guests since I've been host of this
show and this, without a doubt, is the strangest interview I've ever given.
"I have the distinct impression that he thought his nose was growing." Rose smiled. "You don't think the Republican National Committee Chairman would
lie to us, would he?"
~ * * ~
As soon as Crowe left Rose's studio, the pain and the tearing sensation
subsided. He ran into a men's room and gazed into the mirror. There was
nothing there! His straight Roman nose, except for being a little red from his
manhandling, was as it had always been.
Crowe was flummoxed. He flashed back through the unmanly scene he
caused and became mortified. At least he didn't run to the nearest hospital
emergency room and make a complete ass of himself. Correction. He already
made a total ass out of himself in front of a National TV audience. Now, he
needed some damage control. A big bandage on his nose and a clever cover story
ought to take care of it.
~ * * ~
Nobody said anything the next day, but the way people glanced away or
smirked as he approached, Crowe had the ominous feeling he was the butt of
numerous water cooler jokes. Admittedly, the interview with Rose Maddock was
a disaster. Somehow, he had to redeem himself—but how?
Crowe picked up his phone and punched in a number. "Yes, Boss."
"Good morning, Willie Joe. Would you come in here?"
"Be there in a sec."
Fifteen minutes later Willie Joe sauntered into Crowe's office, a smug look
planted on his face. He pushed his favorite chair a couple feet from Crowe's
desk, plunked down in it, plopped his feet on the desk and flashed a, 'what you
gonna do about it', smile. Staring at Crowe's nose, Willie Joe asked, "What's that thing that looks like a sock on your nose, Boss?"
"It's not a sock. Are you blind? It's a bandage."
Willie scrutinized Crowe's office as if figuring out how he'd rearrange the
furniture. "What'cha wearing a sock-like bandage for, Boss?"
The derogatory way he said boss and the way he sized up his office, gave Crowe the impression Willie Joe believed he was a short-timer. "Right in the middle of my interview with that Maddock bitch, a blood vessel broke. God it
was painful."
A lopsided smirk formed on Willie Joe's face. "Oh. And how did the show
go, Boss?"
"Not so good. Didn't you watch it?"
"Nahhh. I swore I'd never watch that communist propagandizing network.
Besides, Mondays are my bowling nights. We won three games. In second place
now." He watched it. His whole manner screams he watched and his whole
insides are giggling.
"Congrats." You ungrateful piece of Mississippi mud.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." If his dumb ass wasn't my sister's deadbeat husband…
Willie Joe stuck a finger up a nostril and reamed his nose.
Eeewwww! Crowe cringed and handed him a Kleenex. "Thanks."
Crowe leaned back in his seat and cupped his hands. "You're welcome. Tell
me, Willie Joe, do you believe in our lord, Jesus Christ?"
He dipped an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Of course I do."
"That's nice. You do know many of the things Jesus is known for are
communal?"
"What do you mean?"
"Healing the sick, feeding the hungry, taking from the rich and giving to the poor."
Willie Joe winced and scratched his neck just below the ear. "Wasn't that
Robin Hood, who stole from the rich?"
Overlooking the fact that he'd recently called Winfred Opry a communist
bitch, Crowe nodded and went on, "Ah-huh, Jesus, Robin Hood, and Zorro, they were all communists."
Willie Joe's brow furrowed deep. "What are you saying? That Jesus would
