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Act III:
How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love A Bomb

Gateway drugs? Look what happens from Mad Magazine.

Act I
Act II

[Cue Second Interlude]
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Mitt! The Musical

by Quicklund MMXII

([Cue Second Interlude] if you have not already done so.)

Any resemblence between the characters in this parody and any persons or lifelike automotons, living or dead, is a miracle.
The Players

The Kingbee Family
Mitt, a golem.
Ann, a wife.
The Drones (This, That, A, Another, Thefat) sons
John, a former ambassador and distant cousin from out of state. cough.

The Major Key Chorus
Ixnay Brothers (Karl, Grover) political advisors.
Onay Brothers (Senator, Representative) machine politicians.
Amscray Brothers (David, Charles) wealthy machinists.

the minor key chorus
Lenil Twins (Michelle, Richard) presidential candidates?
Rick and the Family Ranch (Rick, Herman, Newt) yes, presidential candidates.
Ron Crack, a galtpot

The Help
Senator Mavis Richard "Mav" McMaverick, a former Presidential candidate
A Tall Caucasian Man Wearing A Blue Suit, a keynote speaker
The Media, an estate, 4th or whatever it is
The Enablers Assosciation, base ranks and rankers
Get Your Bible Thumpin', une troupe des danseuers

Act III:
How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love A Bomb

Scene I

[Curtain reveal to a stretch of sidewalks and storefronts. Sign spellings, a bright red phone booth, a helmeted Bobbie constable tell us this is a London street. The constable and the few pedestrians exit stages left and right.

The Lying LIBOR Barnacle enters from stage left, strolling casually with a bumbershoot at shoulder arms. Mitt and Ann Kingbee enter stage right. The Media enter upon the Kingbees' heels, ears cocked and pencils hovering over notepads.

Mitt Kingbee sights the LLB. They wave greetings to one another and approach. Moments after shaking hands, the LLB starts and takes a step back. He spins on his heel and storms away, head cocked in disgust, exits stage left.

The Media scribble furiously. They link elbows, dance a quick jig, jump as one into the air, click their heels, and rush off to exit stage right.

MK slumps dejectedly onto a bench, Ann beside him. She hold his hand and pats it reasurringly as the Second Interlude plays out.]

[Cue Musical Score - Jerusalem]

Mitt Kingbee [a cappella]:

How did these feet in Testonis mine
Fall into oral peril so keen?
Why is the Kolobian God's
son England's constant villain seen?

Should not this countenance of mine
Bring fog-addled git Limeys thrill?
And will Jerusalem be as bad?
Can Yiddish idioms be as shrill?

[Stands, glances defiantly toward the depated media.]

Sing they of gaffes - Olympic gold!
Sing they of cultures I find higher
Sing they of minions' cheek unfurled!
Sing what they may - I'll get them fired

I will not cease from mental flight;
Upon my tongue I shall still stand
Next stop I'll say in Jerusalem
It all should be in Israeli hands



Scene II

[Curtain reveal to interior of lavishly appointed private jet. A couple Get Your Bible Thumpin' stewards serve cocktails and hors d'ouvres to Mitt and Ann Kingbee and the Major Key Chorus.]

MK: Gee willikers, but that went well. Didn't we have a great time dear?

Ann Kingbee: Why yes we did. Ooh! Look what I found in my purse. It's a photo of our old dog Seamus.

MK: The men are talking dear. Please don't meddle.

Karl Ixnay: Went well? It was a disaster.

MK: Well, I agree I got off to a slow start. But once I got my sea legs under me, as the English liike to say, or someone likes to say, I think I really picked up the pace. Say, did you know England is an island? I wonder if Israel is one too. We should have someone research that. But I don't think so because it seemed awfully dry.

[Charles Amscray's drink falls from his slack grip. A steward hastens to clean it up.]

Senator Onay [uncomfortably]: No Mitt, I'm afraid Mr Ixnay is correct. This overseas charm offensive certainly went to shambles.

David Amscray [nodding]: Even I know that.

Charles Amscray: By George man, you insulted the Prime Minster!

Representative Onay: The people of London

KI: Every British subject on Earth..

SO: Poles

DA [nodding]: Israelis

RO: Palestinains

CA: Semites

SO: Anti-semites

KI: Reverse-anti-semites

Grover Ixnay: MMPH! GRVZRT! [from his Lechter-like restraints]

SO: In short, if an ally of the United States happened between you and the horizon, sir, you found a way to insult them.

MK: Insult our allies? How could I insult our allies? I'm running for President, for Pete's sake. Allies find Presidents charming. Ooh! Truffles! [takes an hors d'oeuvre]

CA [massaging temples]: Strictly speaking, Mr Kingbee, that is not always true.


MK: Well golly, I don't see what the fuss is about. I just did what you said: attack! [shadow boxes]

KI: Attack that Obama. Attack your opponents!


CA: The past is the past. Going forward we have to be focused.

DA [nodding] On that Obama.

KI: You gotta stir up the Tea Party. Charm them, baffle them, shock & awe them, pander to them, just get them fired up and ready to vote.

SO: Everyday from today to the convention and beyond.

RO: Smooooth sailing.



Scene III

[Curtain reveal to airport arrival area. The media wait listly towward stage rear, chins in hand, elbows on an airport bar. Members of The Enablers Assosciation stand here and there around center stage.. Most hold red-white-and-blue "Kingbee 2012" signs. Everyone is looking towards a door at stage left marked "arrivals". Each is as still as a statue.]

[Cue musical score - Cousin John's Plans]

[Enter John Kingbee from stage right, guitar over his shoulder. He passes from TEA member to member, pausing to engage with each. But each one remains motionless, unblinking.]

John Kingbee:

Well the first steps are the hardest steps, be it journey long or short,
I promise no Easy Street, it's true danger I report.
Think this through with me, please engage your mind,
Whoa, oh, what I want to know, is are you kind?

It's fact climate change is real; better take my advice.
Children will bear your load, they'll know fire but not ice
Will you come with me? Won't you come with me?
Whoa, oh, what I want to know, will you come with me?

[Frustrated] Goddamn, well I declare, have you seen the like?
Their walls are built of cannonballs, their motto is don't tread on me.

[Again pleading] Come hear cousin John's plans, strive to turn the tide,
Come with me, join my side, let reason always be your guide

Its the same story Jim Crow redone; its the only way he wins.
He's a cheating son-a-gun, his methods they are sins.
Ain't no time to hate, let me set you straight.
Whoa, oh, Americans know, all of us are kin.

Don't live in an echo chamber and think you've found the truth
How do I convince you all that I come to speak in sooth?
How lead GOP, return to sanity?
Whoa, oh, what I want to know, how does that song go?

Come hear cousin John's plans, strive to turn the tide,
With dire things to talk about, don't abide the lying side.

Come hear cousin John's plans, strive to turn the tide,
Come with me, join my side, let reason always be your guide

Well hell, Mitt won't abate, so I'll leak his tax rate

Come hear cousin John's plans, strive to turn the tide,
With dire things to talk about, don't abide the lying side.

Come hear cousin John's plans, strive to turn the tide,
Come with me, join my side, let reason always be your guide

[JK exits stage right.]

Offstage Voice: He's here! He's here!

[Cue musical score - Red Meat Blues]

[Enter Mitt Romney from the arrivals door. He waves to the crowd. The Media rush up, scribbling. Accordian lenses focus, flash bulbs strobe and pop. The TEA members come to life and cluster by the door. Kingbee 2012 signs bob up and down.]


Red and white, blue tarmac
Businessman, you didn't build that
Gimme five, I'm back alive
Just my luck, all Europe sucks

Climate change? 'No', says me
Stays seventy-two, not F that's C
Wave that flag, fag means fag
Light the sky, no eel pie!

Wave that flag, wave it wide and high
Culture's why, Is-rael won't die oh my

Now Uncle Sam, I'm a big fan
I'm pointin' out, scams the Democrats plan
Take the word that took the word
Of Andrew Breitbart and Sean the Han

Shine my shoes, Right's your Muse
Warch me
...abuse, that ol' U.S. news
...bankrupt your health
...steal your wealth your life
...war your wife

Wave that flag, wave it wide and high
This site's ho-ly, so kiss my thigh oh my

Nertz to gay. Chick-Fil-A
Gun control? Better buy grenades
Got you confused, paid my dues.
You can call this song the Angry Red States Blues

Wave that flag, wave with love and joy
Kenya is, in, Africa, boy oh, boy

Boy, boy boy boy, boy, oh, boy oh boy
Freedom time done, come and gone, boy oh, boy

[Ann joins Mitt and gazes at him with adoration. A young woman wearing bobby sox and a pink poodle skirt screams and faints.The crowd cheers madly and closes in. Amid franticaly bobbing signs, The Kingbees are obscured by clods.]



Scene IV

[Curtain reveal to the interior of Town Hall. Red-white-and-blue bunting hangs from every available surface.  A huge banner proclaims, "2012 Republican Convention". A podium is at stage right. TEA fills the floor in fromt of the podium. Kingbee 2012 signs are everywhere. The Media is here too, at a table set off from the crowd. TEA is in good cheer listening to a speaker wrap up his speech.]

ATCMWABS [with a paper bag what has got eyeholes cut out of it over his head]: ...and it is for these reasons I shall forever treasure the honor of being the 2012 Republican Convention keynote speaker.

TEA [applauding, mechanically] Clap clap CLAP. Clap clap CLAP. Clap clap CLAP.

ATCMWABS [wapbwhgecooiohh]: And now - here to introduce to you the next President of the United States -  it is my very great honor to give to you, that strategic master of Vice-Presidential selection, the man who couldn't even beat one of those ones, the man making lawns everywhere safe from meddling kids, that great American hero, Senator Mavis Richard "Mav" McMaverick!

TEA: Clap clap CLAP. Clap clap CLAP. Clap clap CLAP.

[Senator McMaverick enters and walks towards the podium. ATCMWABS meets him halfway, they pause to shake hands. ATCMWABS moves to The Media table, takes a seat, and begins signing autographs

Ron Crack enters, clucking and chicken-walking. No one seems to notice.

McM puts on a pair of glasses then with a thump sets down a thick sheaf of papers. He reaches over and replaces the speaker's timer with a calendar. The Media simultaneously and make a great production of winding their watches.]

[Cue musical score - Our Man Mittens]

Mav McMaverick:

When your country is in danger,
From a Presidential stranger,
When it looks like we will take a lickin',

Ron Crack: Buk, buk, buk, buk

McM: There is someone waiting, who
will hurry up and rescue you,
Just settle for our man Mittens

RC: Buk, ack!

McM: Freind, if you're dismayed you'll have to overlook it,
Besides you knew the slate was thin last June when we booked it

RC: Buk, ack!

McM: He will drink his business sauce
And turn recovery into loss
And that will bring us good jobs and cute kittens

RC: Buk, buk, buk, buk

McM: There is one thing you should learn
When there is no one else to turn
To settle for our man Mittens

RC: Buk, buk, buk, buk

McM: Settle for our man Mittens!

RC: Buk, ack!

TEA: Clap clap CLAP. Clap clap CLAP. Clap clap CLAP.

[Senator McMaverick turns to his right and extends a hand. Mitt Kingbee marches out to the opening bars of the Act I Overture.]

[Cue musixal score - Fanfare for the Common Man]

[He greets Senator McMaverick and they clasp their hands over their heads. They drink in the applause for a moment. Then McM steps aside and, shoo-ing Ron Crack ahead of him, exits. TEA quiets. Stage light fades and spots light MK at the podium.]

[Cut musical score - Fanfare for the Common Man]

[Cue musical score - Mitt!]


So you ask why, I'm such a bullish guy
I'm bullish Wall and Main, not high speed train
I'm bullish quid pro quo, that means sell high, buy low
Now I don't lack for bread. So, like Rushmored Ted,


Get me ahead with bull, bald blusterful bull
Spinning, jiving, shamming, flimming-flamming
Out of thin air pull, bull, Coulter foul or crasser
Fib baby, lie momma, everywhere, daddy daddy throw bull

TEA: Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt Mitt

MK: Flow it, snow it
Out of our asses blow it, bull


Let fly lies in your tweets and tell tales on the streets
And at home sell repeats, push my bull
Mendacity, a hive of duplicity.
Fables absurd, there ain't no words
For the folly, the squalor, the blunder of bull

TEA: Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt Mitt

MK: Flow it, blow it
Among trusting minds sow it, bull



Make it long, strong, loopey, steaming, hissing, misting, scary, shammy
Oily, greasy, juicy, goopy, curried, filthy, fluffy, flimy-flamy
Rotten, misbegotten, twisted, crooked, colored
Blown-up, groaned-up and melodic
Clumpy, frumpy, grumpy, and synthetic.

Oh say,
want to see,
my ten four
tee you can't or the jig is up.
Up to here, up to there
Up to where, shit audits itself

They'll be ga-ga down in SoHo, when I'm in my oval dojo
My dojo bought with bold, bloviated, beligerent bull
Like Bush in oh-four stole it, Hallelujah I adore it
Brother Brigham Young loved his all sons, why didn't father love his

TEA: Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt Mitt

MK: Flow it,  blow it
At liberals throw it, bull

TEA: Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt Mitt

MK: Flow it,  blow it
Serve with a bordeaux it, bull

TEA: Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt, Mitt,
Mitt, Mitt Mitt

MK: Pour it,  soar it
I am a historic ass

All: TRIX!

[Great big confetti-y, balloon-y, jazz-handy finish.]

[Scenery backdrop of the Town Hall exterior descends, hiding the convention area. A few TEA latecomers, signs over their shoulders, enter to stage front. Seeing the door closed they stop and gaze at Town Hall, backs to the audience. As the chants from inside fade out, one turns to another and offers a handshake. We recognize Mitt's cousin John. His sign reads "Kingbee 2016".]


[Cue Musical Encore]

The End

Originally posted to Quicklund on Sun Aug 12, 2012 at 09:45 AM PDT.

Also republished by National Parody Administration.


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