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View Diary: Abbreviated Pundit Round-up: the Mystery of the Stranger on the Stage (131 comments)

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  •  The Adventure of the Republican League (4+ / 0-)

    (I really loved this pundit round-up :)

    I had called upon my friend, President Barack Obama, one day in the autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a very stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery republican views.

    “You could not possibly have come at a better time,” said the President cordially.

    The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob of greeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small, fat-encircled eyes.

    “I know, my dear Biden, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routine of everyday politics. You have shown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish so many of my own little adventures.

    "Mr. Lush Rimjob here has been good enough to call upon me this morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the most singular which I have listened to for some time.

    "As far as I have heard it is impossible for me to say whether the present case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events is certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps, Mr. Rimjob, you would have the great kindness to recommence your narrative. I ask you not merely because my friend Joe Biden has not heard the opening part but also because the peculiar nature of the story makes me anxious to have every possible detail from your lips.

    "As a rule, when I have heard some slight indication of the course of events, I am able to guide myself by the thousands of other similar cases which occur to my memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that the facts are, to the best of my belief, unique.”

    The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the inside pocket of his great-coat. As he glanced down the advertisement column, with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon his knee, I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the fashion of my companion, to read the indications which might be presented by his dress or appearance.

    I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore every mark of being an average commonplace right-wing bloviator, obese, pompous, and slow.

    I took the paper from him and read as follows:

    TO THE REPUBLICAN LEAGUE:
    On account of the bequest of the late Willardous Mittington Romdroid III, of Detroit, Michigan, U. S. A., there is now another vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a salary of £4 a week for purely nominal services. All republican men who are sound in body and mind, above the age of twenty-one years, and willing to let the auto industry die, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o’clock, to Duncan Ross, at the offices of the League, 7 Pope’s Court, Fleet Street.

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