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Posts Tagged ‘parody’

Bruce Gray was in the perfect position at the perfect time. With the secrets he learned by pointing his Truth Ray at people behind the scenes, he never had a problem working his way into virtually any event, and newsrooms were no different. This time he was off to the right, in the dark, with a clipboard in his left hand hiding the ray guy underneath it in the right.

The last couple of seconds were counted down silently, with gestures from a man with a headset on.

“I am MT Heded and this is Erin B. Tweenthyiers,” the tall dark man said as the blond beside him smiled broadly on demand. “You’re watching Pox News. This hour we’re looking into the Trans-Pacific Partnership agreement, which marries the business interests of 11 nations – Japan, Australia, Peru, Malaysia, Vietnam, New Zealand, Chile, Singapore, Canada, Mexico, and Brunei – with those of the United States.”

“I smell jobs, plenty of jobs,” said Erin buoyantly. “Isn’t it exciting when the world comes together for everyone’s benefit?”

Then she took a quick in-breath. Ray had fired up a medium dose, good for 90 seconds of truth with absolutely no recollection. The instantaneous effect was immediately evident.

“I know that they don’t usually want us to read up on things we talk about, but on this I did. The TPP should be called the Trans-Pacific Plundering agreement. Because that’s what partner countries are allowing corporations to do, calling out regulatory forces as barriers to maximum profits. Then the TPP itself holds member nations to the verdicts of their corporate tribunals and demands that governments make up the lost profits that ‘excessive’ regulation cuts into.”

“That’s very interesting, Erin. Now here’s a word from Pampers, the Golden Years Edition,” MT said looking straight ahead until they were clear. “What the hell was that?”

“Golden Years? Seriously? Can’t they see what’s ‘golden’ here?” Erin said, oblivious.

“Erin, that was damn close to tipping our hand,” MT said sternly. “Luckily the eyeballs of our principle viewers gloss over when they hear ‘regulatory.’ And confessing that we’re not supposed to learn about what we’re talking about?”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is. And it’s a secret.”

“Erin. A moment please,” said a voice in Erin’s hidden earpiece.

“Oh hi Bill,” she said, examining some of her hair. “What’s up?”

“You imbecile! You can’t discredit the TPP because the billionaires behind our sponsors will make tens of billions more if this goes through.”

“So. How many billions does anybody need? Even half of one would be fine with me.”

“Well, you’re not going to get there doing stunts like this. We hired you because you’re cute, articulate, and good at reading a teleprompter. That’s all we need from you. No thinking necessary, got it? Now stick with the script.”

“Okay.”

The fingers went down in front of her.

“And we’re back. With the TPP, all the barriers to free trade will be a thing of the past. America will finally experience the free market at its finest,” Erin read. But then she turned her head. “Doesn’t Obama want this? I thought we were supposed to detest anything Obama supports. How do we get around that? Nobody’s given me the proper phrases yet.”

Then something popped in her head again, and she swiveled around to the teleprompter. “Today at the US Capitol, Senate minority leader Mitch McConnell spoke on behalf of Fast Track, the mechanism where, in the interest in expediency, the TPP agreement could be confirmed in the Senate on a simple up or down vote with no filibusters or amendments.”

Then they cut to the McConnell, as droll as ever. While Erin waited for her next cue, Bruce adjusted his Truth Ray to the lightest setting, good for 30 seconds of truth. But in this instance, the “victim” does have recall over what he or she has just said.

“Senate majority leader Harry Reid has promised to fight Fast Track, but we fully expect him to cave,” Erin said ending with a slight cock of her head from the incoming jolt. “I see what you mean, MT, McConnell really does look like a turtle. But he sure lies real well, I’ll give him that. He’s a stud when it comes to hogwash. Does anybody really buy-” and she snapped back and finished her sentence as best she could, putting her years of damage control to the test. Usually it was in reaction to a guest or live report, not from her own mouth. “Buy that Mitch McConnell is soft on free trade? I think he’s leading the pack.”

“Up next, was Michelle Obama’s hashtag sign really a pre-plug for Steve Spielberg, whom some say already has the rights to the life stories of the abducted girls in Nigeria?” MT teased as they went to a hard break.

When the little red light went off and the lights dimmed slightly, Bill was right there in front of Erin. She didn’t have a clue why she said what she did, but still needed an explanation fast.

“Worst PMS ever,” she said with her best nauseous face, walking to her off-camera chair for a quick makeup brush-up.

“Bring some Midol to the set, STAT!” someone shouted.

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