There is a politician who is universally disliked except by the people who keep sending her back to the House of Representatives. Please don’t do that anymore. If you feel that strongly about the woman keep her at home.
She is the only person who ever made me truly regret having given up on the notion of purgatory. I now wish there was cause and effect between her earthly conduct and the fate of her miserable soul. She has never revealed her actual age but I am usually a good guesser and would put her at about 95 or 100. Her husband is a criminal. Well, so is she but somehow no one has gotten around to plopping the pair of them in the hoosegow. But, they are far too wealthy to ever find a bunk there. I can’t reveal her name because the state she represents has a special set of liable laws making it an expensive felony to say anything truthful about her.
Her biography is a tricky thing, changing without consequence to fit any notion that will bring her the most sympathy and votes. Once she was descended from Native American tribes. Then from slave stock, then from harried immigrant blood. Whatever cause is at the forefront she is in the thick of it always claiming to be the most oppressed victim of all.
Finding her real beginnings proved difficult. I wanted to find out whose privates had been sorely used by Beelzebub and forced into the despicable do-si-do that spawned her. Any reliable documents have been long purged. A study of her face brings to mind Sauron and his possible use of it as the prototype for his orcs. But even that necromancer could never conjure up such a face of evil. She has to have a past beyond the deception and thievery that plagues us now. She had to come from somewhere.
It took months of hard work to track down one bitter old man who years before claimed to know the identity of this woman’s real mother. Foul things had come to him after his disclosure. His temerity had nearly cost him his life. But he never backed away from his claim and when I went to visit him he produced a yellowed news clipping. One he keep safe in a small plastic sandwich bag. It was an article from Starlet Magazine, a Hollywood publication that dealt with the scandals and hijinks of silent screen sirens. This one featured Normani O’Rourke. He swore she was her real mother.
I left and began researching Normani O’Rourke. To find out all I could about her. She had been a silent film star cast as a sultry wench who seduced the best known actors of her time. Both on and off the set. She’d been in a well-publicized fight with Mae Busch. A starlet from Australia. They had argued over who was going to play Cleopatra in an upcoming blockbuster directed by D.W. Griffith. A titan of his time. They both wanted the role but Mae took ol’ D.W. behind the backdrop and won the job. Normani fumed.
Turning her back on legitimate films, Normani started to do illegitimate ones. She changed her name to Ma Bush to get back at her old rival. She had her hair dyed and styled to match Mae Busch and even had a birthmark tattooed on her cheek to match the distinctive feature her nemesis used as her trademark. In the graininess of the medium of the day they looked nearly identical.
Her first film was entitled, Ma Bush Goes to the Meat Market. Thin on plot, except for Ma Bush taking on all the meat cutters for a free lamb chop, it was action packed. And thoroughly embarrassing for Mae Busch who repeatedly denied it was her.
Her second film was Ma Bush Comes Home, a film about the prodigal daughter returning home for the holidays. No one was safe. Uncles, cousins and even a few aunts were part of the shenanigans. For the final scene the table was cleared and Ma Bush lay naked upon it, taking on all comers while her father pounded out a lively ragtime piece on the family piano I used after I learned from Piano Lessons at home.
Mae Busch was ruined and turned to drink. She named Normani O’Rourke as the real Ma Bush but no one believed her. She could no longer find work on the big screen and all of her friends deserted her in disgust. Excoriating sermons were composed and delivered expounding the evils of her debauchery, promiscuity and incest. Mae Busch died an ignominious and lonely death.
As an aside, Mae Busch wasn’t the only victim. I too lost a person close to me because of this. In Ma Bush’s old black and white films everyone always went really fast. I was intrigued by this style of lovemaking. I didn’t find out until later that old film makes just makes it look that way. They really didn’t go that fast. I tried it on my girlfriend. She packed up and left even after I promised never to go that fast again.
In celebration of her enemy’s demise, Ma Bush starred in the extravaganza Ma Bush Joins the Logging Camp. Posing as the camp’s shy and virtuous laundry maid, Ma Bush went through every lumberjack, cook and log splitter. Moving from one five man tent to the next she took them all on.
In the daylight hours Ma Bush would take picnic lunches out to the men laboring in the woods. She flitted around like a forest sprite taking on one clump of long bearded wood choppers after another. She was an avalanche of shamefulness, fun and abandon. Portraying on film what only the worst of reprobates would attempt behind a closed door.
But Mae Busch was dead and it didn’t take long for everyone to catch on to the ruse. They all said, “That’s not Mae Busch, it’s really Normani O’Rourke!” That was what the old man’s article had said. It said that somewhere in those sinful acts biology won out and Ma Bush, now outed as Normani O’Rourke left the bacchanalian orgies with not only splinters but also pregnant with the politician who would end up doing so much damage to all of us.
In the end we all paid the price for Normani’s revenge on Mae Busch by being forced to fill the greedy, cold hearted pockets of Normani’s dark issue. And when we can pay no more all that’s left for us rabble is the pillory and paddle.