In a previous post, I mentioned I had never been to Walmart. Sure, I’ve seen the various “People of Walmart” posts, showing some of the more colorful customers to grace the aisles.
But I had never been to one.
So this weekend, God willing, I will lose my Walmart virginity. I am torn between dressing very sedate and boring, or saying “What the hell” and diving in my storage closet for something outrageous to see if I join the ranks of the Walmart cult.
So into the storage closet I go. First, the wig boxes: do I want to be blond, brunette, red head, black flapper bob, or dreadlocks? I rip open boxes, mostly of old Halloween costumes; sexy nun, bloody nurse, French maid, prairie dresses and old evening gowns. What to do – old evening gown with sneakers and dread locks? Or hot pants, fishnet stockings, orthopedic shoes, and a red wig?
(Rest assured that I will be well armed with anti-bacterial wipes, hand sanitizer, and a mask used by Dustin Hoffman in that epidemic movie, not to mention the biggest sunglasses since Jackie O.)
I’ll report back. Wish me luck!
After Lucia and D’arcy finished their comments on NBC, they met Happy by the car parked on the street. As Happy was telling them how she kissed Chuck on the forehead, leaving a deep red lip print, police cars and vans came screeching up to the front of the building. Several dozen officers went racing into the building, guns drawn. D’arcy and Lucia ripped off their wigs and dove into the car. Happy had vanished into thin air. They head to CNN.
Over at CNN, Aurora (Rory) and Dix had Brian “Tater” Stelter tied to a chair, asking him to get them to the studio. But Tater was crying so hard, he had “suck sobs” like a 4 year old. and couldn’t get a word out. At that moment, Dix noticed someone peering into Brian’s office. It was Anderson Cooper. In one swift move, Dix grabbed him and body slammed him onto the couch. (Dix is 6’4″ with an undetermined European accent, muscles for days and bleached hair. Lucia thought he was kind of hot when she first met him.)
Anderson squealed and squeaked “Don’t hurt me!” Dix told him to shut up, and looked over at Rory, who was whispering vague threats in Tater’s ear. She looked at Dix and rolled her eyes. “He’s useless to us,” she said. They both turned at looked at Anderson. His eyes grew wide and he began stammering “No, no. no…I don’t know what you want, but leave me out of it!” Dix leaned in closely and spoke softly. “We’re not going to hurt you, as long as you help us. Do that and we leave you here safely to mop him up,” as he jerked his head to the now hyperventilating Stelter.
As luck would have it, D’arcy and Lu see Chris Cuomo exiting the building. Wigs back on, they swiftly intercept him to gain access. They hustle him upstairs, following Rory’s directions to the floor they’re on. They get to Tater’s office, and his eyes bulge. “YOU!! I saw you…you were on NBC!” “What of it, short stuff? You guys are next.” barked D’arcy.
Lu has Fredo Cuomo backed against the wall.. her middle finger extended; berating him for being the useless, lying shit he is. His eyes open wide; the pupils dilate like a virgin for the very first time, and he collapses into a heap on top of her pointed toed boots. Before he can move again, she rolls him into a corner, pulls off his sweaty left sock and waves it in front of his nose.
“Smell that, you simpering gas bag? Smells like one of your special basement-level broadcasts, doesn’t it?”
Quickly they explained they needed access to a studio and the control room, and how they’d be out within 10 mins. Fredo looks at Anderson, and nods. What the hell, as long as they didn’t actually have to do anything, Fredo thought.
“Dix, you take these two simpering snot bags with you to the control room. Fredo is coming with us,” Rory directed. “Call me when you’re up there and have them secured.” She looked at Lucia and D’arcy. “Who’s doing what?” D’arcy spoke up. “Rory, you and Lucia are doing this one, with your special guest. Lu, stick that sock in his mouth, and don’t forget to throw in how stupid his wife is with her Clorox baths. I’ll stand off to the side”
She looked under the desk and found mic packs, got Chris zip tied to a chair, and waited for Dix’s call. They didn’t have to wait long. Dix was set, the two foo-foo kitties were tied to chairs, and he had the controls up. The question was what part of the country did they want to interrupt. “West Coast again; it’s our best bet.”
“Ready when you are, ladies,” said Dix over the phone. “Let’s roll,” said Lu. She pulled the lace masks out, handing one to Rory, and looked at the camera. The red light came on.
“Good evening. We are members of the Twenty-Three, coming to you from CNN. If you are a viewer of this stinking cess pit of a station, you recognize our special guest. Nod hello, Fredo.” Rory pushes his head to bob up and down.
“We are here to tell you the American people have had enough of the lies, the bias, and the fake news. We are asking all of you to contact your local cable companies to tell them you no longer wish to receive CNN or cable at all. They are an arm of the DNC and the Deep State, and we the people have had enough!!” Lucia bellowed. “You will all be held accountable for your blatant bias against patriotic Americans!” yelled Rory. “Do it for your country! And whatever you do, don’t bathe in Clorox!”
Lucia nodded and the red light went off. “Chrissy, we’re leaving you right here. Someone will find you, sooner or later.” The women raced to the door where Dix met them. He informed them that both Andy and Tater were besides themselves.
They made their way out, and as with NBC, the police were just pulling up. “Scatter!” whispered D’arcy, stuffing her wig down her cleavage.
Epilogue: a total of 6 stations were hijacked by various members of the Twenty-Three that night. The messages that were delivered were basically the same: stop lying to the American people. Those who were strong armed into helping each embroidered their versions of what happened, until it bore no resemblance to the actual events. One would have thought Sandanista rebels pulled this off by the way they were talking. But what does one expect from Fake News?
[Recap: D’arcy and Lucia have abducted Chuck Todd outside 30 Rockefeller Plaza. They made him let them in, so they could broadcast live their frustration with the MSM. To accomplish this, they enlisted the help of Happy, another member of the Twenty-Three rebel organization.]
D’arcy and Lucia sat at the table, staring at each other. It was going to happen. Now what to say so they didn’t sound deranged or like terrorists?
“Lu, I think you should make a brief opening statement on why we’re doing this, then I’ll come in and tell them why the American people don’t trust the media, ANY media, any longer.” Just then D’arcy’s phone buzzed; it was Happy. “Hey, check under the desk to see if there are ear pieces, so I can talk to you from the control room. I don’t want to use the studio mic. And is it okay to let Chuckles go to the men’s room?” D’arcy thought a moment, and told Happy no, he was not to leave her sight. If he had to go, it was in his pants or the trash can; his choice. “Okay, D’arcy; just wanted to check.” Lucia looked under the desk; luckily, there were two ear pieces and mic packs. It was now or never.
“Darc, we only have 3-4 minutes at best, so you better hit the really painful points immediately. You don’t have time to wax poetic about what idiots they are; just hit on the bias and lack of truth.” Lucia reached in her pocket and pulled out two black masks with a lace veil hanging at the bottom. She put one on and handed the other to D’arcy.
“Showtime,” whispered D’arcy.
Lucia begins by calling all of MSM a bunch of disease-carrying chipmunks; that they deserve to be disarmed with the twelve bags of over-ripe avocados she has hidden in her Chanel knapsack. D’arcy laughed to herself. Lu always had a way with words. Now it was her turn.
“We are members of the Twenty-Three. Our mission is to tell the American people that the MSM has been lying to you, lying about everything. Journalists are supposed to be unbiased, and if you’ve been paying attention, you already know the news is decidedly slanted. The Twenty-Three don’t show political favorites. We want the truth, regardless of who it casts a light on. Start demanding your newscasters, pundits, columnists tell the truth without inserting personal feelings into their reporting. That is all we’re asking for tonight. This is your ‘Mad as hell’ moment!!” Make yourselves heard!
“Thank you and good night.”
D’arcy heard Happy’s voice in her ear saying the feed had been cut, and they had to split… and fast. Lu told her to leave Chuck zip-tied to the chair, that the police would find him and his moist nether region soon enough.
Meanwhile, at CNN…