Saturday, August 02, 2014

I'm Sorry. I'm Not Political.

"Schicklgruber! Have you finished those plans yet?"

"Almost, mein kampf."

"Well, hurry up. People are waiting. We need zie Judes in zie ovens quicker!"

Schicklgruber was the industrious sort and the methodology for faster loading of Judes into the gas chambers was a high level priority from the top. All he wanted was to be good at his job. What's wrong with that?

Herr Oblahma strolled over to Schicklgruber's desk. "Don't you wonder sometimes if we're doing the right thing?"

"We're doing what we've been told! That is gut."

"Yes, but - "

"Please, do not bother me with politics. I am not political. Ich bin ein engineer!"

"I realize it's important to get the job done over all and that compromise is necessary in every issue and that nothing is black and white and that no one should ever feel alienated that disagrees with you and -"

"Oh, shut up! I'm not voting for you."

"Oh, poo! Some day everyone will love me! You just wait and see!"

A noisy crowd began to assemble outside. Oblahma got flustered. "Oh, my! Who are those people?"

"Stupid protesters."

"Protesters! What could they possibly be protesting?"

"Who knows! Something somewhere isn't just exactly perfect so they have to run around screaming their heads off. Idiots!"

"Those fools! Don't they understand they can't let the perfect be the enemy of the good?"

"They think they are smarter than our glorious leaders who run the government."

"Outrageous! That's the whole reason I joined the government, so I cannot be protested."

Schicklgruber's moral indignation boiled over, opening the window in a furious spite. "Go away! No one cares what you have to say!"

"You're helping to commit mass murder and genocide! It's wrong to kill the Judes!"

"Oh, what do you know? Others say different. Get a life, you losers!"

Oblahma stuck his head out the window, looking for votes as ever. "What if I can be your hero and negotiate a deal where we only kill half as many Judes as now?"

"No killings are acceptable! Since when is murder allowed?"

Schicklgruber slammed the window shut. "See? They are unreasonable! Never satisfied with their pointed pitchforks!"

Oblahma sniffed. "I don't know how they expect to convince anyone that genocide is wrong with manners like that. And how unpragmatic to reject my deal that would have made the situation fifty percent better. Who do those people think they are? I know what I proposed was not perfect but we could vote to reduce the murders further at some point in time later on."

Emilberg, the troublemaker, came waltzing into the office.

"Schicklgruber, you old boot-licker you! Still tongue-ing your way to the top?"

"Get away from me, you anarchist! Somebody has to make this country run. Our leaders are beautiful and wondrous and never should be questioned!"

"You a funny guy, Shick. How about you O-man? You buying that garbage?"

"I have to! I hope someday for those things to be said about me."

"Well, ain't you two a pair!"

"We're winning - and there's nothing you can do to change that! So why don't you shut your mouth and obey and do what's in the best interests of society?"

Emilberg applauded. "Good idea! I think I'll do exactly that!" Then he promptly went outside and joined the protesters.

Brought to you by vocal patriots and a silent majority

"You traitor!" fumed Schicklgruber yelling out the window. "You betray your society and all that it stands for!"

"The real traitor is the one who gets us bombed to smithereens in retaliation and backlash."

"That can never happen! We are the biggest and the baddest in the world!"

At that point Emilberg mooned him, ending all debate.


Later, on his way home, a small Jude girl came up to Emilberg, giving him a hug. "Thank you, sir, for speaking up or us. Sometimes it feels like the whole world wants us dead. You don't know what it means to hear your voice. It makes all the difference in the world."

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