Once upon a time, in a land of once endless opportunities, there stood a big white house on a hill that was the envy of all the land.
It certainly was to the bears who inhabited the tiny town of Republicana. For while they had all the wealth of the country to make them very, very happy, they couldn’t find a way to buy the pretty white house on the hill.
They tried of course. They even found a way to get even more money without working at all. Through an aggressive acquisition plan developed by the Brothers Koch, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, they had purchased Rumpelstiltskin Industries, which had discovered a way to spin straw into gold. For a time, this made the townspeople very happy, until the edict came down from the big white house on the hill that all the fields growing wheat and oats would be taxed.
This made the bears very unhappy, for they enjoyed their life of luxury and felt it was petty to punish them by taxing their fields, which provided an endless source of straw that could be made into gold.
Three of the bears were particularly unhappy. They enjoyed the gold that the straw made. And they even found a way to get out of paying the tax, for they moved all their growing fields over to China and let the Chinamen harvest their straw for pennies on the dollar and turn it into gold. At night, they gathered together to toast their brilliant business sense and the magic loophole they had found.
But still, they could not buy the big white house. This made them very mad. So they began to beat their chests as bears do and roar to the gathered villagers about the injustices of their world, that those in the big white house were ruining their quality of life.
“Their insatiable greed is giving us greedy bears a bad name,” said the one.
“They are using our money to serve the earth,” said the other, theologically.
“They are an obamanation,” said the last, conservatively.
“We must take that big white house from them at all costs,” said the first. “It we can’t buy it, perhaps we can convince everyone to give it to us instead.”
“How can we do that?” said RomneyBear.
“We can tell them a PAC of lies,” said NewtBear.
“Yes,” said SantorumBear. “That’s it. We can make Obamalocks look like an evil man who is bent on class warfare, who has socialist underpinnings, is Godless and tans too much.”
“Uhm, SantorumBear, he’s African American.”
“So he’s not even a real American?” said NewtBear. “TrumpBear was right!”
Lying would not be so easy though. For while the people were still mad that their straw spinning plant had been closed putting them all out of work, they were still pretty smart.
But the three Scare Bears knew that if you told the people the same thing long enough and wore a snappy suit, they would eventually believe everything they were told. After all, they knew that it had worked for AdolfBear, who created a whole bear empire in Steiff, Germany.
They also made a plan, a devious plan. Once, when Obamalocks was away from the big white house, they stole their way into it and made themselves at home.
First they tried the chairs in the big oval room. SantorumBear sat in a Louis XV chair laden in gold.
“This one’s too soft,” he said.
RomneyBear sat on the settee by the fireplace. “This one’s too hard.”
“This one’s just right,” said NewtBear, making himself at home in the chair behind the big desk with a seal on it.
Suddenly, there was a noise from the hallway. The three bears thought they had been discovered, much as their friend Nixonocchio had been not many years ago when he was innocently trying out the beds at the Watergate Hotel. Poor Nixonocchio, his nose never did return to normal after all those horrible, horrible lies.
“That was a close one,” said SantorumBear. “We’d better move on.”
They peeked down the hallway. It was empty. Quietly, they made their way upstairs in the big white house. They began to feel very sleepy, for they had not done this much real work in a long time.
They were so tired in fact that they didn’t hear the bulletproof coach approaching the front of the big white house. Obamalocks had returned after a long day in CampaignVille.
As Obamalocks entered the big white house, he knew something was wrong for as he sat down in his chair behind the big desk with a seal on it. He said, “Someone’s been sitting in my chair.”
“Someone’s been sitting in my chair, too!” said Joepunzel, Obamalocks’ evil and once streaming blond maned henchman, who had somehow managed to climb down from the tower he had been banished to.
Obamalocks was incensed. “We must find these intruders, Joepunzel. For the thought of outsiders enjoying the big white house is simply unbearable to me.”
They looked high and low for the unwelcomed visitors. But they could not be found. At last, they made their way up the stairs.
They burst into the first bedroom, but there was no one. Then the next and the next. Finally, they happened upon the last bedroom. They opened the door, turned on the light, and lo and behold, there were the three bears.
“Aha,” Obamalocks said. “I had a feeling it was you Scary Bears. I was right.”
SantorumBear spoke up first. “You’re certainly not right Obamalocks. I would know for I’m about as far right as you can get.”
“No,” said NewtBear. “I’m way more right. In fact I am right of right.”
“That is enough!” said Obamalocks. “Get out of my big white house right now.”
“It’s not your house,” said RomneyBear. “At least not for long.”
Obamalocks burst out in laughter. “And who’s going to take it from me? One of you three Scary Bears? I had no idea the Republicains had such a great sense of humor.”
The three bears scurried from the bed and put their clothes back on.
It was then that Joepunzel rolled onto the floor laughing.
“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “I’ve seen a lot bare asses in my time, but never three asses that were bears.”
THE END
Out on the Treasure Coast, wishing I could make something like this up,
– Robb