You swung down off your horse Paul in front of the Town Hall, hitched up your shiny new silk britches, slapped the dust off your Hempseed vest, and headed for the Town Hall's front door.
Back in Libertariantown, you had heard the many stories about the townspeople of Conservativeville "clinging to their guns and their bibles". Clearly they were stuck in the past, unable to grasp the inevitable change that must come to their town.
Many "Messengers of Progress" had been sent to Conservativeville before you, but every single one of them had returned, badly burned and unable to articulate exactly what had happened to them.
That's when the leaders of Libertariantown sent for you. They were sure that you, RedForemanRules would be the one to bring the message to Conservativeville's citizens -- the message that they must obey -- they must "evolve, adapt or die".
Stepping through the doors, you stamped your well-worn Hempweave boots, to knock the trail dust off of them.
Then, showing everyone in the Hall why you were known as the "fastest lip in the land", you began your full bore diatribe, barely pausing to take a breath between verbal barrages.
All seemed to go well as you spewed your words to the left and to the right -- you were determined to make sure nobody escaped "The Message".
A few tried to raise their voices to aim some retorts at you, but you were fully confident that your verbal tsunami would wash them away like driftwood -- all would fall before your onslaught.
And then -- BOOM, a deafening blast and a flash of bright light overwhelmed you. All you could remember seeing as darkness overcame you was a room full of people, laughing and pointing at you.
Later, when you awoke back in Libertariantown, you found yourself laying on your stomach, being treated for massive burns on your backside. The rear-end of your new silk britches was burnt completely off, so treatment was not difficult for the new Obamacare Doctor, Dr. Ima Moderatemuslim, that Libertariantown had just hired from Iran, via Tijuana.
The Nurse treating you explained that you had been found laying unconscious, just outside the city limits of Conservativevile, with a handwritten note pinned to your back.
The note said: "You were warned upon entering town -- No abortionism, homosexualism, atheism, isolationism, socialism; defeatism, open borders, free condoms, free drugs, etc. allowed!" "P.S. Your broke-back horse Paul has been retired to pasture -- his glory days are over."
The note was signed: "J.R."
You’re getting better and better, my friend.
Colonel, your descriptions of newly dispatched, still smoking zottees is more entertaining than anything Rand Paul could ever say.
Thanks!
So much for Rand Paul being “the great conservative hope,” eh?