Twitocracy

Oh, did you come to enjoy my new comedy post after you finished voting for Christy Clark so I can suffer more while I try to save my own money to play my music after your broadcasters made millions from stealing my posts and refuse to pay me? Yeah, enjoy. This is called real love, the kind of love that hurts to give. Host: It's time to discuss the important issues of the day on Twitocracy. With us in the studio are the two major contenders for the presidency. They have sharply opposing differences on how to deal with the problems of street crime, media corruption, and anti-war protests. Let's start with Elmer Finch, who represents the Christian Fascists. Mister Finch, you have the floor. Finch: Thank you. I try not to use too much gas when I'm barbecuing hot dogs. The flames rise too high and end up overcooking them. When I eat a hot dog, I want it to taste like meat, not like a piece of charcoal. Also, I think it's a good idea to wear an apron for this chore. The juices can fly up and stain your shirt if you're not careful. Host: I see. Is that all you have to say? You still have several minutes of airtime. Finch: Only that I think we need to take life one day at a time. Host: Fine. That takes us over to Felix Shicklegruber of the Liberal Communists. Mister Shicklegruber, I have a feeling you disagree with Mister Finch's position. Shicklegruber: You're darn tootin'! I've been over and over this again with my opponent in the house: barbecues need gas. The coals don't get hot enough unless you pour on the gas. I used to be like my opponent, skimping on the gas when everyone around me was counting on a well cooked dog. I thought I was being efficient when I was only being cheap. Then my neighbor's toddler got worms. The doctor said it was from chewing a wad of gum that he found on the lawn, but I knew better. And if we all follow Mister Finch's policy now, we're all going to get worms! Finch: How dare you! Shicklegruber: I'm only speaking from experience. Finch: You couldn't barbecue your way out of a famine with those chicken wieners you buy! Or are they plastic? Shicklegruber: You want to insult my wieners? Well, I heard that your wurst is the worst. Finch: (breaking in) Your barbecue looks like it hasn't been cleaned since the bronze age! Shicklegruber: Gentlemen, gentlemen, please restrain yourselves. I know you feel passionate about the issues but we accomplish nothing here when you both speak at the same time. (to be continued?)
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© 2017. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.