Oh, No! It's Big Newt Is Back, Part Four

Why, why?

Because I can't run the post about how America's leading conservatives just gave the Academic Freedom Award to a former gay porn star and male "escort." (There's teenagers reading this, too, and the story is kind of "gross," once you get into specifics.)

So instead: It's another thrilling chapter of:
BIG NEWT IS BACK!

(The story so far: Cast out of the GOP he helped to put into power, Newt Gingrich has vowed vengeance against mankind. Turning Tom DeLay in for the reward money, Gingrich crashed the national Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in Washington and bought, bullied and brutalized his way on to the floor and then terrorized the convention leaders into submission.
But the maniacal Gingrich is still a long way from his goal—the 2008 nomination for the Presidency. Republican Mitt Romney captured the top spot in the conservative straw poll, leaving Gingrich to finish a distant fourth. The story continues.)

Scene: Romney campaign headquarters. The stately Mormon sits behind his heavy oaken desk in a large leather armchair, stroking a kitten as he listens to John McCain briefing him on the current political situation in the GOP. Sicilian mandolin plays in the background.)

McCain: I believe in America. America has made my fortune. And I raised my children in the American fashion. I even give my staff their freedom, in the American way--but I taught them never to dishonor the family values. I sent one of my people to see this Gingrich, to talk. To see him about the Presidential race. They stayed out late. I didn't protest. They made him drink whiskey. And then this Gingrich tried to take advantage of him. But he resisted. He kept his honor. So they beat him, like an animal. When I went to the hospital, his nose was a'broken. His jaw was a'shattered, held together by wire. He couldn't even weep because of the pain. But I wept. Why did I weep? He was a beautiful kid, he used to work in Mark Foley’s office. Now he will never be beautiful again. So I went to see Gingrich myself, like a good American. I stood in his office like a fool. And that bastard Gingrich, he just smiled at me. Then I said to my wife, for justice, we must go to the conservative Front-Runner.
Romney: (to another aide) Give him a drink.
(McCain takes the shot of whiskey with a shaking hand, and downs it. Romney lays a finger on the side of his face as he listens.)
McCain: I tell him he cannot win. I tell him, the party will not support you, and if they will not support you, you cannot win the nomination. That is the American way. And what did he do? That bastard laughed. He laughed at me.
Romney: What is it you would have me do?
(McCain looks around. Then he rises from his chair, and whispers in Romney’s ear. Romney listens, then McCain returns to his chair, his eyes imploring.)
Romney: That I cannot do. That would not be justice.
McCain: Please, conservative Front-Runner. It will take a cold man with cold balls to stop this Gingrich, to do what needs to be done. You tell your own wife with multiple sclerosis that you will not support embryonic stem-cell research no more, if it will cost you the evangelical vote. That’s-a cold balls! And if we do not stop this man now—
Romney: Why come to see me? Why not go see Don Giuliani, he leads in the national polls—
McCain: The national polls, the national polls, gigatz! (bites his thumb) It takes conservative cold balls to stop conservative cold balls! Please, Front-Runner--
Romney: In all the years I have known you, John, have you ever sought my friendship? Have you ever even invited me to your house for coffee? But now you come to me, and you say, Front-runner, do this thing for me. If you were my friend, your enemies would become my enemies. They would fear you, as they fear me.
McCain: But Front-runner—
Romney: Will you accept my friendship, John McCain?
McCain: (rises, trembling. Then he bows and kisses Romney’s hand.)
(Romney raises him up and embraces him, directs McCain back to his chair. Then:)
Romney: Good. Good. This man Gingrich. He is a, a pezzonovante, a big shot. But he is a man of reason. We will reason together, we will negotiate.
McCain: But how can you negotiate with an animal? This Gingrich is a, a bruto, an animal--
Romney: Already I have begun. I have sent some of my people to see him. They were good men I sent, men of respect. I sent them in a car. A nice car, a Lincoln Continental. They will make him see reason.
McCain: And if he will not see reason?
Romney: Then I will make him an offer he can’t refuse. But I have the conservatives, the Party behind me. Of course, this Gingrich has the right to receive something in return for his services. After all, we are not Communists. (the men in the room chuckle, McCain looks down at the carpet.)
(A Romney aide comes in to the room. He looks pale.)
Aide: Front-Runner.
Romney: (raising his eyebrows) Yes?
Aide: Newt Gingrich sends you a message.
(He goes and comes back in, wheeling a huge metal cube on a hand truck, a Lincoln Continental that has been crushed in a junkyard car compressor into a cube.)
Romney: (stricken) What is this?
Aide: It is an old conservative message. It means “Those guys you sent to see me have been crushed into a metal cube. Look that up in your Book of Nephi, you Mormon fag.”
Romney: (spit-takes all over his little cup of espresso, starts to shake) Jesus Christ! The guy must be nuts!
Music: DANT-DANT-DAH!
Voice Over: Stay tuned for the next thrilling chapter of “Big Newt Is Back!”

"Big Newt Is Back!" Part Two

(The story so far: Former GOP overlord Newt Gingrich has spent much of the last decade sleeping under a bridge and drinking Sterno as he awaits his political comeback. When fellow exile Tom DeLay tells him that he has placed fourth in a presidential straw poll conducted by the Conservative Political Action Conference, Gingrich flies into an insane rage and vows vengeance against mankind. He smashes an empty bottle of hooch over DeLay’s head and drags him off to the nearest police station, claiming the reward money so he can use it to fund his political comeback.)

(After getting a much needed bath and shave and some eyedrops, Gingrich “obtains” a clean suit and a car and makes his way to the CPAC convention, still in progress. At the door he is stopped by the CPAC bouncer, Richard Viguerie, an old conservative hand.)
Viguerie: Sorry, chum, you can’t get in here without showin’ some real cash—Jesus H. Christ, it’s Newt! They—they told us you was dead!
Gingrich: They told ya wrong, pops. And as for dough, what does this look like? Romaine lettuce? (fans the big bills under Viguerie’s nose. Then, menacing:) Well? Do I get in, or do I get in?
Viguerie: Yeah, yeah, sure, Newt. But you gotta understand, Newt, things is different around here nowadays, it ain’t like the old days—
Gingrich: Izzatso? Well, I’m here to make it like the old days. (He hands his car keys to a black man standing near the door.) Here you go. It’s a blue BMW, don’t scratch it.
Viguerie: Hold on there, Newt. That ain’t no valet, that’s Mike Steele, he use to be the Lieutenant Governor of Maryland--he’s a conservative, like us!Gingrich: Oh. (to Steele) Sorry, “bro.” I been outta circulation for a while, know what I mean? Lotsa new faces here. Colorful new faces, too. I guess.
Viguerie: Mike is MC’ing the convention this year.
Gingrich: Yeah? “M.C. Steele”, huh? Spinnin’ the turntable for the Party, hah? Well that’s fine. But take care of the car for me anyway though, wouldja? Here, here’s ten grand for ya, I’m a big tipper.
(Steele looks offended, then he takes the money and car keys and heads out to the parking lot.)
Gingrich: Didn’t give me any backtalk. Good attitude. So we got our own little “Obama” this year, huh?
Viguerie: Yeah, heh heh heh.
Gingrich: Maybe I’ll put him on the ticket with me, if he’s one of these Clarence Thomas “Afro-Americans.” “Gingrich/Steele”—that’d make a good bumpersticker.
Viguerie:(scared) You—you ain’t thinkin’ off taken over again, is ya, Newt?

Gingrich: And why not? (straightening his tie before going in) Nobody just hands it to ya in this world. Ya gotta take it. So I’m gonna take it.
(Viguerie puts his hand on Gingrich’s arm to stop him; Gingrich gives him a deadly look and Viguerie quickly removes his hand)
Viguerie: I didn’t mean nothin’ Newt, it’s just things is different now. The convention is picked Mitt Romney in the straw poll—
Gingrich: (a weird glint comes into his eyes) And I came in fourth. (advancing on Viguerie, who backs off) Yeah, I heard all about that, Dickie boy. And I heard all about how you gave a big speech--telling how the Congress I put in to power in Washington—MY Congress—was thrown out cause it was CORRUPT—
Viguerie: NO!
Gingrich: (coming closer, murder in his eyes) Yeah! You told ‘em all that MY Congress, had “betrayed conservative principles”—
Viguerie: NO! No, please—(Gingrich grabs Viguerie by the neck, shakes him.)

Gingrich: Oh, yeah, Dickie, “old pal,” I heard all about it. So you know what’s gonna happen now, little Dickie?
Viguerie: I—I n-n-never said nothin’ about YOU, Newt, I never mentioned your name—
Gingrich: (bitch slaps him) SHADDAP! Let me tell ya how you’re gonna make it up to me, Dickie boy. You’re (bitch slap) gonna (bitch slap) call (bitch slap) the (bitch slap) Washington (bitch slap) Times (bitch slap) and tell ‘em that after all the numbers were crunched and re-totaled again—ME, Newt Gingrich, was the convention favorite for President! Not that Mormon fag Romney! Ya get me? (head butts Viguerie, breaking his nose.) You’re gonna tell ‘em that Romney fixed that straw poll! Comprendo?
(Gingrich releases Viguerie, who collapses to the floor.)
Viguerie: (sobbing) No more, please, Newt... I’ll do it... I’ll do it... I’ll tell ‘em... I’ll tell ‘em that when we added together all the votes for the runners-up, you out-total’d Romney. But please, just let me go...I’m an old man...I got grandkids...
Gingrich: That’s right. And you remember that, cause I will—you gotta family. (He shoots his cuffs and straightens his tie again, and faces the hall.) And now—I gotta convention to take over.
(He strides off into the hall. Cheers greet him as he opens the doors.)
(Steele returns, holding up a little paper stub.)
Steele: (to Viguerie) Where did Mr. Gingrich go? I got his valet ticket, right here.
Viguerie: (laying on the floor, covering his bleeding nose) Never mind where he went. Just stay right where you are, don’t say nothing. And if you value your life, you have that ticket ready for him when he comes back...
(Steele stares at Viguerie in horror. Music sting: DANT-DANT-DAH!)
Voice Over: DON’T MISS THE NEXT THRILLING INSTALLMENT OF: "BIG NEWT IS TAKIN' OVER, SEE?")

The news story: CPAC Embraces Steele; Gingrich (Washington Times)

Under A Bridge: Gingrich, Not the Chili Peppers

HEADLINE: Romney Tops Straw Poll of GOP Activists

(Scene: Under a bridge somewhere on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. The shared office of former GOP superstars Newt Gingrich and Tom DeLay. The office is an old cardboard shipping crate for “Contract With America” buttons, with “GINGRICH AND DELAY POLITICAL CONSULTING” spray painted on the side. Gingrich sits just inside the box with an old Hefty bag wrapped around him for warmth, shivering and shaking. He’s toasting a weenie on a stick over a small fire built out of old Clinton impeachment documents.)

Gingrich: G-g-goddam sons-of-b-b-b-bitches… I’ll sh-sh-show ‘em yet… I b-b-b-built the gggoddamn G. O. P-P… I’ll b-b-b-be b-ba-back on t-t-t-top…j-j-just wait and s-s-see…
(Drinks some Sterno out of a discarded tin can, then throws it away.)
(Gingrich’s partner, Tom DeLay, bursts on to the scene, waving a big manila envelope. DeLay is dressed like Gingrich, a thing of rags and patches, sole coming off one of his stolen shoes, clutching his own Hefty bag for warmth, needs a shave and a bath.)
DeLay: NEWT! NEWT! I got it! I got it! I got the results of the presidential contender’s straw poll at this year’s Conservative Political Action Conference.
Gingrich: It’s about time, what the hell took you so long?
DeLay: The cops spotted me, I had to dive into a dumpster behind a Chick-Fil-Lay restaurant and lay low til they was gone.
Gingrich: Goddamn flatfoots. Gimme that! (snatches envelope away from DeLay) And keep away from me, ya smell like a bucket of wings and old mayonnaise. (shaking envelope) Didja read it yet?
DeLay: Nah, I couldn’t, it was too dark in the dumpster.
Gingrich: How’d ya manage to get in the Conservative Political Action Conference, dressed like that?
DeLay: (proudly) I told ‘em I was from the Associated Press.
Gingrich: Quick thinkin’. But didn’t anybody recognize ya, once ya got inside?
DeLay: Yeah, but they pretended not to. Go on, open it, Newt, let’s see how you did!
Gingrich: Wait a minute…not so fast… I wanna savor this… I waited a loooong time for this, Tommy boy, I wanna make it last. This is gonna be sweet. The wheel of fortune turns, Tommy boy, and this year, the number’s come up “Gingrich!” Gimme some of that wine, it’s in the paper bag there…
DeLay: You think you got the conservative nod for the Republican nomination, Newt?
Gingrich: WHO ELSE? Who are they gonna go to, America’s conservatives? This is my year, Tommy, there ain’t another conservative in the whole field! McCain? He was the office joke when we were runnin’ Congress, the conservatives laughed at him and threw pennies at his head when he walked by in the halls. Liberal Republican candyass-- (mimics) “I was in a war, I fought for America”—
(DeLay giggles.)
Gingrich: The conservatives wouldn’t never give McCain the time of day.
DeLay: But Giuliani—
Gingrich: (does a spit take with the wine) Gah! Giuliani my ass! From NEW YORK? He’s a Republican Clinton, pro-abortion, doin’ photo ops with gays in a gold lame dress, showin’ up in public with his mistress! The conservatives got nowhere to go—they need a real conservative--and I’m the only one left! Me! Newt Gingrich! The Moses who led the GOP conservatives out of the wilderness and into the promised land in ’94, the vicious son of a bitch who takes no prisoners and demonizes liberals! (hands DeLay the envelope) Read me the results—I can’t focus me eyes after drinkin’ this stuff, I been cutting it with the Sterno…
DeLay: Okay, Newt—(takes envelope, opens it, then freezes, listening) Was that a police siren?
Gingrich: No, it wasn’t a police siren, ya yellow chicken shit! It was an alley cat goin after a rat. (shaking DeLay) Get a grip on yourself, ya little worm! This our moment! By this time next week we’ll be back on top, givin’ the orders again. They’ll be throwin dough at us, kissin’ our hairy asses again, now that the results of this poll are in!
DeLay: Okay…okay. (calming himself, reads) “Results of the Conservative Political Action Conference Straw Poll for Presidential Candidates—“
Gingrich: Skip that shit and get to the good part! (takes a long pull from bottle. Then he notices that DeLay has gone white with horror.)
Gingrich: What is it? What’s wrong with ya, can’t ya read no more?(snatches memo away, tries to focus his eyes)
Gingrich: The winner is… The winner is… Mitt Romney… MITT ROMNEY! Mitt Romney? That liberal Mormon fag from MASSACHUSETTS? That liberal pro-choice numbnuts from the gay marriage state? The national Conservative Political Conference wants HIM, over ME?
DeLay: He ain’t pro-choice no more, Newt, he switched over to pro-life—
Gingrich: --ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES AGO! The most powerful conservatives in America want that liberal polygamous fag, instead of ME?
DeLay:(pointing to report) It says he finished first with 21 per cent of the votes, Newt…
Gingrich:(reading) That liberal trannie Giuliani—in second place? Brownback? That Catholic bible-thumping no name snake-handler from Kansas—he beat me, too?(Gingrich’s eyes start to bug out like tennis balls, the veins in his temples swell to the size of jumper cables--)
DeLay: We did better than McCain, though—
Gingrich: “BETTER THAN MCCAIN?"IN THE CONSERVATIVE STRAW POLL? (has a minor stroke; recovers)
DeLay: Yeah, by two points, you came in fourth—
(Gingrich smashes the empty wine bottle over DeLay’s head; DeLay collapses unconscious.)
Gingrich: Fourth…fourth in the CONSERVATIVE straw poll…(staggers around) Gotta think…gotta think…it can’t be over… it can’t be over…gotta get some money…money…(looks at DeLay’s prone body, gets an idea. He grabs DeLay’s feet, and starts to drag him along) Sorry, Tommy…it’s you or me, so it’s got to be you…I’m turnin’ you in for the reward…that’s politics, Tom, you’d do the same to me if I gave you the chance…(already out of breath) I’m turnin’ you in—gettin’ that reward money…that’ll be my campaign war chest…and then I’m gonna get something decent to drink…and then…I’m gonna be BACK ON TOP!...I’ll show ‘em… I’ll show ‘em ALL, those sons of bitches…