by Chief New Leaf, ©2021
(Dec. 9, 2021) — “Min Kära I Det Fria” (1:56)
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to ‘The Pulse of the Nation,’ the place to hear it here first. Today’s guest wants to share a story with us, a story with no axe to grind, no point to make, just a true story of a man who got himself a part-time Christmas season job at one of our leading package delivery companies. Do you want to tell us your name or do you wish to remain anonymous?”
“Name is Jeff and I’ll just share my story with nothing added, no embellishments and no comments. Would that be okay?”
“It’s how we like it on ‘Pulse,” the most-watched information show in its time slot.”
“Okay, I got this job to unload packages from trailers. The job was from 11 at night to 7 in the morning, but as soon as the trailers were unloaded, us part-timers were sent home, usually around 4:00.
“And the trailers were big; even had a space that we called ‘the basement,’ where the big heavy stuff was. I’m talking about the electric scooters with heavy batteries, and cases of wine from California, and floor-standing computers.
“In the middle of the trailer, from front to back, was a conveyor — well, it was a bunch of rollers that lined up with the conveyor in the building where the packages were sorted to the delivery trucks. Now, about those wine boxes — nice boxes with pictures of ivy-covered buildings – had easy-to-read addresses, and if the address was to a certain area, well, that box of wine wasn’t placed on the conveyor. No, it was deliberately dropped from the tailor to the concrete floor of the warehouse.
“Of course, when a carton of wine is dropped six feet onto a concrete floor it makes a distinctive sound of broken glass, the louder the better, and if it was really loud everyone, everyone but me, that is, would applaud.
“You see, even Christmas packages can be (are) judged to be, well, I’ll say ‘racist’ and let you figure it out. Boxes that have anything to do with cheese were also treated with disdain: dropped; kicked; smashed.
“And speaking of ‘smashed,’ those poor boxes that had ‘HANDLE WITH CARE’ and ‘FRAGILE’ suffered the same fate as all the other boxes that went to the, eh, exclusive section of town, is how I’ll put it.
“Now make of what I said any way you want; all I did was to tell you how it is, what went down, okay?”
“How long did you work there?”
“About three weeks, but let me tell you about my last day. As usual, a trailer is already backed-in with its doors open; all I have to do is open the roll-up garage door and hook up the warehouse conveyor to the one in the trailer, off-load it and when I’m all done, sweep it out. So I finish and notice that the crew next to me is still working, so I walk on over to lend a hand and, guess what? They have three unloaders and they’re not done. Just then the foreman shows up and inspects my empty swept-out trailer, and then walks over to the still un-emptied one and tells me I’m ‘not needed anymore.’ It seems I was in a contest and either way, I lose. And that was the story of my Christmas job.”
“Well, that is an eye-opener. Remind me not to order wine. So how come you finished so far ahead of the other crew?”
“It’s like this: once in a while the conveyor in the warehouse would stop, some kind of logjam that they have to sort out, so in the down time I’d bring up everything heavy from the basement and have it already on the conveyor, so while they’re taking a break, I kept on working.”
“So you were asked to leave? That must have hurt.”
“True, but at least I went out on top.”
“Let’s take a commercial break; be right back.”
“The Ecstasy of Gold” (3:18)
“And we’re back with the last quest of the day, a Miss Jennifer Clause, some kind of, I can’t read this, a zoo-something.”
“A ‘zoo-linguist’: someone who deciphers animal talk.”
“You’re kidding. You mean you can understand what animals say?”
“Not all.”
“Then how about naming them for us; how many?”
“One.”
“One? Which one? Wait, let me guess: dogs?”
“Cows, but only from Utah and they have to be three years old and pregnant.”
“Well, I must say we’ve had some real nuts on the show before but, lady, you take the cake. Why Utah?”
“Accent.”
“Well, what do you expect? Ask a dumb question… Now tell our audience what cows are talking about.”
“Besides our inept and worthless military that maybe can shoot the side of a barn, but which barn?”
“Now you have our attention. So, you’re saying that the pregnant cows from Utah don’t trust our military, specifically the Joint Chiefs of Staff — does that about cover it?”
“Yes, and there’s more.”
“I bet there is.”
“The cows say that the mask weave count per-inch for the Chinese Communist biological weapon, COVID-19, developed with United States taxpayer money, thanks to Dr. Death (aka Anthony Fauci), allows viruses to flow through UNIMPEDED (capitalized and underlined letters ‘cow talk’).
“No way. So, I’m afraid to ask, but how do the cows know all of this when half of America or, for that matter, the world, especially Australia, doesn’t have a clue?”
“Ever pick up radio waves from a filling? Well, the boy cows, the mature boy cows, you know, the ones with horns?”
“No way. You mean the horns act as antennas?”
“Yep, and they change stations by just turning their heads. Pretty amazing, don’t you think?”
“I’d say that’s one of the understatements of the week, month, year, decade…”
“I get it; and, furthermore, I don’t believe you’re taking me seriously. I say it’s pretty amazing that we can now communicate with a different specie; at least I think so.”
“And me, too; I really do. So, let me ask you this: what’s the cow’s take on our open borders?”
“The cows like it because they don’t like fences, but they don’t like the illegals because the rustling rate has increased dramatically, something you city folks don’t seem to care about.”
“We do care, but we never hear about it.”
“Well, you’re hearing it now. Any more questions?”
“I’m afraid we’ve run out of time but we’d love to have you back, maybe when you learn the language of another animal.”
“I’m working on the language of ants, if you really want to know.”
“That’ll do it and I can’t thank you enough for being on the show. Well, that’s it and so, on behalf of Jennifer and myself, we’ll be wishing you all a goodnight: Goodnight.
“Good show; strange, but good. Burger time: my treat.”
[Little People report: on standby.]
[Turns out that Jan. 6 is the Deep State’s sorry excuse to weaponize the DOJ/FBI to target law-abiding citizens who actually believe in the Constitution and hold dear the Second Amendment and all the others, equally, to a ‘T’; no exceptions.]
“Santa Baby” (3:27)