Washed Up Reality
Television Star Expresses Ambitions While Being Oblivious To Reality
New York (AP) With the Democratic National Convention
getting started this week, and Hillary Clinton often going on and on about what
she calls “her precious”, all eyes are on Philadelphia, where the party will be
giving the former Secretary of State what she has always wanted- the nomination
for the presidency and her ticket to power. There has been much speculation as
to who Clinton would be designating as her Vice President. Some more cynical
observers have noted that the Vice President would be far more important than
usual given the inevitable impeachment of President Clinton (the Second).
Numerous Democrats have been jockeying for the position,
while party operatives have been trying to push other names. Elizabeth Warren
has been set aside, given concerns by the candidate that she would be
constantly upstaged by “someone more likable than me.” Bernie Sanders, who gave
Hillary a run for her money throughout the campaign before finally throwing in
the towel, has been set aside as a possible contender, given the fact that the
two dislike each other. Ultimately the task- and perhaps the future presidency- was given to Senator Tim Kaine of Virginia.
It wasn’t just Democrats trying to get the job. Last week,
in the midst of the Republican convention, members of the press were summoned
to a press conference in New York by an enigmatic invitation alluding to the Democratic
Vice Presidency. Gathered together in a hall at the Javits Center, reporters
speculated as to who might be trying to make their own bid at the proverbial
second chair. Might Joe Biden be making a second go at the job? Or even odder,
did Bill Clinton himself want the job?
Finally a spokesperson came out on
stage, calling for the attention of the assembled media. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,”
the woman said as she stepped up to the podium. “Without further ado, well,
here she is. She really needs no introduction, because everyone knows her and
loves her.”
The spokesperson stepped aside. Music started to blare- some
sort of house music or hip hop; this reporter really can’t tell the difference.
And out onto the stage walked a short woman with big hair and orange tanned
skin. Reporters gasped, rolled their eyes, and found themselves wondering how a
washed up reality show star from Jersey
Shore could have managed to assemble them all together under false
pretenses.
She was Nicole Polizzi, otherwise known to the world as
Snooki.
Waving to the crowd, totally oblivious to the eye rolling,
sighs of dismay, and shaking of heads, Snooki strode up to the podium, only to
find that she couldn’t see over the top. “Damn it!” she blurted out, reaching
up and managing to grab the mike. “Who the **** didn’t put a step stool here
like I asked?”
Snooki came out from behind the podium, glared at her
spokesperson, who stood at least a foot taller than her, and then faced the
media, pasting on her vacant grin with the dimwitted expression in her eyes.
“Hey there!” she called out, waving again. “Thanks for coming!”
“Are you just wasting our time?” one reporter inquired of
her.
Snooki looked confused. “Why do people keep asking me that?”
“Because it’s a pretty reasonable assumption,” this reporter
said.
“Look, no, no ****ing way,” she assured the reporters. “Am I
the sort of person who’d waste your time? No, of course not. I mean, what am I,
a Kardashian?” This reporter rolled his eyes, wondering what would be more tedious
and annoying, sitting through this or sitting through a drunken ramble by one
of the Kardashians. “By the way, are we broadcasting live?”
“No, we’re not,” one of the television reporters replied for
all of her colleagues, looking at her watch, no doubt wondering, as this
reporter was, how long she might have to put up with this sort of nonsense from
a washed up MTV star.
“Well you’ll wish you were,” Snooki promised. “Because I’m
here to announce my candidacy for the Vice President of the United States, on
the Democratic ticket with my BFF Hillary.”
Reporters stifled laughter. One asked, “BFF? Have you ever
actually met her?”
Snooki shrugged. “No, but what the **** difference does that
make anyway?”
This reporter spoke up. “First of all, under the rules, a
Presidential candidate and their team select
a Vice Presidential candidate. A person doesn’t just come out of nowhere and
say they’re going to name drop themselves as a Vice Presidential candidate.
Second, you’re not known for politics. You’re known for a multitude of bad
reality shows on a network that used to run music videos, for getting drunk and
in trouble, and, to put it mildly, for being an idiot.”
“Hey, guido, don’t you call me names,” Snooki replied.
“Guido?” this reporter challenged the idiot.
“That’s what I call everybody. Guido, wop, douchebag,
whatever slang term comes to mind,” Snooki explained. “That doesn’t matter.
What matters is that I can bring the young beach going Jersey vote to Hillary
for the big win in November. All she has to do is say pretty please, Snooki,
and promise to let me be president one day out of every week. ‘Cause I’d like
to send the Navy SEALS to bust up the Situation’s ass.” She was grinning with
maniacal glee, in a way that suggested she wasn’t quite playing with a full
deck.
“You can’t be serious,” another reporter objected.
“Of course I am,” Snooki declared. “And you know what else I
can do as Vice President. Say Hillary needs Bill outta her hair? I can keep the
First Dude distracted. Pretty much the same way Monica kept him distracted. I
really am the perfect choice for the
job. I’ve got attitude, street smarts, a great rep with all the hip people, and
I’ve got orange skin. I can be the anti-Trump. Anyway, that’s my announcement.
Hillary, have your people call my people, and we’ll do lunch!”
She left the stage, and reporters found themselves
snickering, sighing, shaking their heads, and wondering if they’d woken up in
some pocket universe where reality had gone haywire. Of course, with the other
party fielding a candidate who’d spent his own years in reality television, the
world had already gone haywire long before now.
The last word goes to an unnamed member of the Clinton
campaign, a distinguished older fellow using the codename El Cigaro. He laughed
off the offer by Snooki. “You know, as much as I’d enjoy being distracted... I
mean, as much as Bill would enjoy being distracted by Snooki in that fashion,
her bein’ the Vice Presidential candidate? It just isn’t gonna happen. Hillary,
or the ol’ ball and chain as I like to call her, shook her head, said something
like, Hell no, and then started
muttering, my precious, my precious, it’s
mine, they stoles it froms us. You know, between you and me and Monica, she
might be gettin’ a little bit obsessive about the whole thing. Don’t tell her I
said that, okay? She’s got me by the short hairs.”
