What a long strange trip its been
– The Grateful Dead –

Families is where wings take dream!
– George W. Bush –
(This quote isn’t particularly germane to my story, I just get a kick out of it)

There are few things as frightening as the legislative process (a Celine Dion concert comes to mind). Recently, we debated for 14 hours, and passed a gambling bill, which everyone knew was never going to become law. This may be less of a waste of time than entering a Yahtze tournament, but only slightly.

One of the reasons the debate lasted for 14 hours is that some legislators just went on and on. One example was Representative Fluke. He started out cogently enough:

Representative Fluke
Gambling is a stain on our society. It is immoral
and leads to addiction…

But some people don’t know to finish once they’ve made their point:

Representative Fluke
…this is just like when the Charlamagne hoisted his flag
over all of the Peloponesian…

“No it’s not!” I thought. It’s nothing like that. “Charlamagne has precious little to do with nailing 3 lemons in a row.” So I temporarily tuned Fluke out and observed my colleagues. Some were sleeping, some were reading. Some were turning to coal. At one point, a Rep from Adams County snuck a case of whiskey into the members lounge just off the floor. Legislating while drunk; this seemed like an excellent idea! First, I stuck my head back in to make sure I wasn’t missing anything important:

Representative Fluke
…and so, of the 47% of the people who read 12% of the polls at least 66% of the time, I am one of the 52% who think that the other 48% of the people are 75% wrong 90% of the time.

Nope, nothing doing there. So it was back to the lounge for policy discussions over double-shooters of Ol’ Granddad. After two rounds, the discussion grew very philosophical. There was much talk about the true meaning of Kierkegaard, and the Raison d’etre of the body politic. After 4 rounds, we were all on chairs, chanting, “Let’s Screw Jersey!! Let’s Screw Jersey!!” It was about this time that I again began to feel guilty about missing the debate, and popped back to the floor:

Representative Fluke
…and that reminds me of a recipe for Rice Pudding I know…

I arrived back in the lounge in time for rounds 6 and 7. At this point Republicans and Democrats were openly hugging, weeping, and telling their adversaries they loved them. They were also profusely apologizing in advance for all of the negative attack mail they were going to send into each other’s districts next election.

By Round 9, we had drawn up a new manifesto of laws we wanted to pass. We wrote them down and were prepared to move them by acclimation if Fluke ever shut up. Oh…and we were nude. Here is the list, or what we were determined to call “The Round 9 Act of…Whatever the Hell Year it is!”

= The new state bird would hereforth be Whiskey

= Last call would be changed from 2:00 AM to 2:30 WM, which isn’t actually a time.

= The age of consent would officially be lowered to “When Poppa ain’t around.”

= Only sober people would be subject to the income tax.

= All “Health Care” funds would be diverted to “Hangover Care.”

At this point, we didn’t give a hoot about gambling. We were too busy preparing to pour round 12 and begin singing “Neil Diamond’s Greatest Hits” in its entirety. I stumbled back out to the floor just to see if Fluke was done yet.

Representative Fluke … and in conclusion


Representative Fluke
…I know some of you don’t think I can count
very high.

Oh No, he wouldn’t

Representative Fluke
Well, I aim to prove you all wrong tonight. One, two, three, four, five…

Fortunately, one of the members snuck Fluke a few rounds of Ol Granddad, and he lost track at 12,385. So we eventually did pass a slots bill and went home. Hey, I told you it wasn’t pretty.

Dutch Larooo