Hell's Chronicles: Hallway to Hell

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There was no warning this time. There was only one person in the department who had any idea of what had just occurred. Ramona Gutierrez had been there back in ‘95. She had seen this before. She also had been with the Bureau long enough to know that this would not be your father’s government shutdown. No indeed, this would be the crueler, rougher version born of nigh on a quarter century of partisan bickering. Some of them were about to reap the whirlwind.


There had been no flashing lights, no klaxons or siren’s wail, simply the smooth, almost clinical, switch of the locks on the doors. A soothing, synthesized female voice came up low, simultaneously on every computer, tablet or phone equipped to receive. She announced herself as Nancy, appearing only as a pair of heavily greased lips, smoldering under the mushy cake of the blazing red paste upon the screen. As she whispered the hum of motors rumbled from somewhere beneath the floor and the dull, slow to awaken team present in the department began to take notice that a stainless steel sheathing had suddenly risen about the room to seal them off from the outside world. Only one thought entered Ramona’s head: this shit gonna be bad!


Nancy droned on from every speaker still active in the room. “ Your department has been sequestered and will be held in a state of suspension until further notice. This is part of the consequence for this draconian Trump government shutdown, but know this, my brothers and sisters of FECAL (Federal Employees, Contractors And Layabouts): you will not be forgotten! We will fight on for you here, from the outside, we will carry on the resistance until we are back…..er, I mean, uh...until the government is reopened. This should not take more than 96 hours, during which time we ask that you remain calm and shelter in place.”


The advisory had been set in a perpetual loop. After about ten renditions the audio within the office faded as one device after another was eventually muted. Ramona surveyed the room, noting the shell-shocked expressions on every face present. She could tell the reality of their situation had not yet been fully absorbed. It was vital that she was assertive now, at the outset, to insure order.


“All right people! Let’s look sharp now! I was here back in ‘95 and ‘96. They had over a million of us on furlough. Twenty-seven days. We all made it back then and we’ll make it this time. Now just stay at your desks and try to remain busy. It’s just like any other day.”


Most of them were still just kids. Starry eyed youth with the milk from the teat of their institution of higher learning still wet upon their lips. These were the Obama years additions, the flood of youth which flocked back to celebrate government being “cool” again. Obama said so. And all the networks. Really aaanybody of any importance. They were woefully ill equipped for the hand to hand combat that sometimes erupted in Washington. Whether she wanted it or not Ramona was going to be their den mother/ drill sergeant for the foreseeable future. She observed that she had quieted their discomfiture for the moment, but the inevitable questions hovered on their lips.


“When will it be over?” “Are we still gonna get paid?” “Will we get home for Christmas?” All predictable, of course, and only answerable as I don’t know, yes and maybe. It’s only when you’re on the receiving end of government that it ever says no. Yes we can. This was their creed. What should become of these poor souls if it went on? How long before cannibalism reared it’s ugly head? Ramona had a bottle of Grey Goose and half a scrip of Vicodin in her desk should the unthinkable arise.


Christmas came and went. As did New Years. There were a few tense moments, but mostly just tears. And disbelief. “Doesn’t that madman realize what he is doing?” “If I wanted this I would have joined the army!” “This is so unfair!” Ramona had the sense that these youngsters were drawing perilously close to disillusion, upon the heels of which would soon follow despair and ultimately desperation. They were just there, at the cusp. There was but one glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel. Nancy would take the gavel of the House and the Democrat cavalry would ride into the new congress to deliver them from this plebeian revolt. When would these mouth breathers realize that government is best left in the hands of the professionals? It might take them just a few more days, but then they would be freed. Surely by Friday? Ramona kept telling herself that she only needed to hold this band of untested but erstwhile civil servants together for two more days.


For the entire week following Christmas the office had descended into a sullen fugue. They had grown listless, no longer obsessively checking their phones for updates. The droning murmur of Nancy’s voice over multiple speakers was muted now, replaced by the happy chirps and gongs of various apps such as Candy Crush and other senseless amusements. These subtle notes were a stark contrast to the somber and crestfallen expressions worn. Their lot surely could have been worse. There was still light and heat, though no truly comfortable place to sleep. Phone calls could neither be made nor received, likewise texts, yet the internet connection remained. They had discovered that they could “see out”, as it were, but could not be seen or heard. The news reports were anything but encouraging. There was one saving grace for them which came from the most unlikely of benefactors. It seems that buried deep within the last spending bill passed by the Republican controlled congress there had been a provision made for the installation of a space station grade, vacuum sealed food delivery system. It was designed for precisely such an occasion, their own work pod serving as the pilot program. All they were able to get was Dominos and Jimmy Johns, but it beat cannibalism.


In the early hours of 3 January details of Democrat congressional strategy began to unfold. Ramona understood that it might still require a few more days for these plans to be realized, but that glimmer of hope suddenly brightened. First, Nancy was allowing the House to approve an increase in the nation's borrowing limit without an actual vote, instead having it deemed approved each time the House approves its annual budget resolution. Well, that made perfect sense to Ramona! Now that is how government is supposed to work, damn it! It was time to show these Trumpsters once for all how things are done in this town! She also reviewed several sources which began to suggest that members of the Trump team were leaking details in order to prepare a capitulation, slow walking the rhetoric back from the precipice. At one in the afternoon Ramona called her team together.


“Alright people...I need everybody to listen up. As of right now it looks like this thing will be over soon. Nancy is resuming her speakership today, as I’m sure you all know. Now the actual details of a final spending bill are far from resolved, but Madame Speaker has found a path out from this evil shutdown. She has announced that the House approves any increase in the debt ceiling without an actual vote. This designates any spending as approved via the authority in the annual budget resolution.”


Ramona paused at this point to allow the news to sink in. She quickly surveyed the faces about the room to gauge their level of comprehension. In most of their faces there was only the dimmest glow of recognition. They were shell-shocked, unable to process the information as they might normally have done. There was Sanders, the ditzy blonde and youngest of their party. She would wrestle with even the most simple dispatch under the best of circumstances. Then there was Goldberg, that snarky prick from Brooklyn. He had his weasel face all screwed up like he had a mouthful of bad meat. She tried to ignore him and continued to scan the room for reactions. Ramona had to start considering that perhaps her team was further gone than she had suspected. There was numb and, in the case of Sanders, confused. And Goldberg. Damn that little prick!


“Mr. Goldberg, did you have a question? Or a comment?”


“I’m working on it Ms. Gutierrez. There is something that you said that troubles me...”


“Well Mr. Goldberg I will be happy to try and explain. You should also remember that this is only a small piece of the puzzle. There is a lot of information we still do not have.”


“Oh I understand that Ms. Gutierrez. It’s just that...well, I don’t want to be that guy, but...”


Ramona bit her tongue and thought “Oh, but you are that guy, Mr. Goldberg!”. “What exactly was it that you’re having difficulty with?”


“Correct me if I’m wrong, but a government shutdown, even just a partial one like this…. Doesn’t that mean that the departments are just not funded?”


“Well, yes, that is essentially true.”


“Okay. So if the debt ceiling is raised automatically, without a vote, based on the existing or last budget resolution then there is no way to run out of money. Ergo, there can be no shutdown. Right? I mean that’s just logic, isn’t it?”


Ramona was momentarily nonplussed; he was correct, of course, but then wasn’t that essentially just what Madame Speaker was saying? Thankfully her training kicked in just in time and she responded with the be all and end all answer to every problem under the sun. “Mr. Goldberg that is exactly what Madame Speaker has said. Of course it is logic, but we are dealing with Trump and his minions. These people do not understand logic and therefore we have had a shutdown.”


“Yes, but if Madame Speaker is right then the shutdown, the one that could not happen, is over. But we’re still here.”


Ramona had just drawn a breath to respond when the power went out. The room began to vibrate, very subtly at first, and then harder, faster. The exterior sheathing surrounding their office began to glow, the light slowly pulsating through the windows. The vibrations rapidly advanced to a violent rocking, finding an axis upon which the office began to rotate in a counterclockwise spin. All of this occurred within a very short span of time, yet to Ramona it all appeared as in slow motion. The faces which only moments before had been blank and listless now showed utter panic and disbelief. Except for Goldberg, that smug little prick. He was smiling and his eyes gleamed in a mocking “I told you so”.


The office had begun to generate it’s own gravitational plane and Ramona found herself floating several feet off of the floor. She did not feel like she was floating, but she quite unmistakably was. Still experiencing in slow motion her mouth fell agape as she viewed her team, one by one, slowly disintegrate like Star Trek characters on teleporter platforms. The room was rotating around her, faster and faster until the last sight of her staff was that mocking grin of Goldberg, like the Cheshire Cat. Then everything went completely dark. She felt herself very slowly descend back to the floor and all was still. With her feet returned to solid ground Ramona stood trembling in the darkness. She believed she was dead and began to wonder what might happen next. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of light?


As though some unseen theater manager had read her thoughts a spotlight erupted from someplace in the void. The light settled upon a grand piano at which sat the Devil himself. “Hello, Ramona. Come on over here and sit down with me.”


Now she was sure she was dead, momentarily incredulous at the idea of going to hell. She thought “I never voted republican in my life! What the hell am I doing here!?” She gulped and somehow mustered enough courage to ask, “ Are you the….”


“The what? The Devil? Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan….yes, I am any and/or all of the above.”


“So….I’m in… hell?”


“Mmm...” the Devil began to tap out something on the keys and then continued. “Well Ramona, that one is rather hard to explain. Right now, here where we sit Ramona, is not actually physical hell itself. More of a, oh what’s the word I want here…. sort of a long hallway to hell. We’re in an inter-dimensional portal triggered by a paradox.” The Devil paused here to allow this to sink in as he continued to plink away at the ivories, trying to recall a piece by Debussy.


“So am I dead?”




“I’m not dead…..well what the fuck?”


“Paradox, darling. You’re neither dead nor alive.”


“Paradox!? What paradox? What the fuck does that even mean?”


“Goldberg. Don’t you remember Ramona? Ha-ha-ha….oh, isn’t that always the way? Always some fucking Jew to gum up the works.”


Now she wasn’t so sure to trust what she saw and heard. She must be dreaming. Goldberg. What was it about Goldberg? It seemed that it had been only moments before yet she could not recall anything but that fading Cheshire Cat grin.


“Don’t think too hard on it my dear. This is where we are and frankly that’s the only reason I’m here. If you had actually won a lifetime of eternal damnation my chief of staff or my HR person would be handling this, but you are a special case. This isn’t actually hell, but it’s still hell’s jurisdiction. Kind of like the Danes and Greenland: we’re in charge but nobody wants to be there anyway.”


“But what about the rest of them?”


“I shouldn’t worry about that. Goldberg, of course….straight to hell, but the rest of them? They’ve just landed in another hallway. I’ll get to them later. See this happens at least once with every government shutdown, but we always get it sorted out eventually.”


“Okay, so what happens next?”


“Well Ramona I am so glad you asked that question because, you see, that is entirely up to you. I must confess that I have an ulterior motive here. You may have some talents that we can use.”


“In hell?”


“No, at the Rosedale Library! Of course in hell!”


“Now wait…..oh, I don’t know. This is some bad shit right here!”


“Don’t be so hasty Ramona, hear me out.” The Devil ceased his play at the piano and lit a cigarette, then offered one to Ramona.


“How’d you know I smoked?”


“Oh please! I know everything there is to know about you Ramona. Here, go ahead and have one. You know there are no smoking restrictions in hell? Just sayin’…..anyway, why don’t you take a little walk with me down this hallway?”


Ramona grudgingly took the cigarette, but apprehension leaped upon her face at the suggestion of walking with him. “ I don’t know…...I, uh….”


“Ramona? It’s not as if you have a choice. You’ve nothing to fear. We’ll just walk a short way, I’ll explain my proposition and then I have something else to show you.”


Finally Ramona understood that she was not dreaming and that no matter how bizarre all of this seemed, it was in fact happening. And he was right: she really didn’t have any other options. They began to step into the darkness, their footfalls echoing long into the void. There was nothing to be seen beyond a glow of red light which emanated from the Devil, lighting their way just a few feet at a time. As they walked the Devil began to recite what sounded very much like an official, HR department approved job description for a federal senior management position. Like any federal form it went on at some great length without really saying very much of anything. She considered for a moment that perhaps he was trying to bore her to death. She had no perception of what distance they may have traveled and in every direction beyond their immediate orb of light there was nothing but darkness.

The Devil concluded the official “form” job description and then came to a stop.


“Now, Ramona, you have an idea of what sort of work would be entailed in this position. It’s certainly well within your experience. Twenty-seven years employed with the federal government and you have failed to create one tangible thing but mounds of files. Here the expectations are no higher and you get the added benefit of no smoking restrictions and never having to worry about another shutdown.”


“Okay, I’m listening. So what exactly is this department?”


“Alright Ramona, here’s the part where I need to show you something. Hold on, just a minute here...” The Devil reached out with one long, scaly talon to touch the surface of a roughly carved obsidian wall. After a few moments the wall began to glow, first orange, then red until finally reaching a blinding whiteness before dimming into a rosy translucence. It seemed to form some sort of screen or viewing window, though it was still shrouded in some sort of fog. “This will take a few minutes to clear so you can see for yourself, but let me give you a little background on this department. You see way back at the beginning when God and I were sorting out this whole “reality” thing we had to reach certain compromises. Here’s one I’m sure you know: God decides the female of your species has to bleed five to eight days a month for most of their lives and then deal with menopause. I say okay fine, Mr. God, so in return they get the multiple orgasm. There, you see how that works? You’re welcome, by the way.”


The window remained shrouded in swirling mists, but they were beginning to thin in some spots. As the Devil went on speaking Ramona was able to peer into the window and start to make out vague shapes. Wood and wire and occasionally some movement, also vague and unshaped.


“So that’s pretty much how the whole thing was mapped out. Give and take, all the way. So we get down into some of the lower orders of beings and God gets off into this weird tangent, you know. I mean the capybara? Come on! So on a goof I take his original design for the beaver, do a little genetic engineering and? Voila, I give you the duck-billed platypus! Ha-ha-ha….you should have seen the look on his face.”


Ramona continued to peer, more intently now, through the window. The images still came only in glimpses, no whole shapes taking form, but the scurry of movement in shadow. She also began to sense a great cloud of malice, an almost palpable hostility coming from behind that wall. Still gazing into it she responded to the Devil. “What does that have to do with anything?”


“Ha-ha-ha…. Well, you know Ramona! Like I said, give and take. So, in a fit of pique God says okay fine, asshole! You now get to take all of the beavers in hell for all of eternity.”


Now the image cleared and Ramona could see a cavernous hall with row upon row of cages, stacked as tall as a man and for as far as they eye could see. In each and every one of those cages were beaver, fanged and foaming at the mouth, their eyes glowing red. And crews of workmen everywhere, administering repairs to the cages from the unrelenting assault of the beavers. In the distance there were some movements among some of those crews which suggested that they may have been set upon by some of the demonic rodents roaming free. Not anything that one could see in detail, only the suggestion of a massacre. As she took in this surreal landscape the Devil continued.


“As you can see the beavers are still really pissed off over this. Can’t say I blame them, you know, but hey? I’m the Devil, right? I’m afraid that I have only made it worse, though. I kept listening to your environmentalists and I actually believed that you assholes had finally killed them all off, or close to it. So, I lightened up on the department’s labor budget. It’s really starting to get out of hand down there, as you can see. That is why I would like to offer you hell’s Secretary of the Bureau of Angry Beavers. Huh? Whaddya say Ramona? I mean it’s either this or you can go back to work for the Trump administration.”


Ramona turned directly to the Devil, looked him straight in the eye and replied, “Where do I sign?”


Ward Tipton Added Jan 10, 2019 - 6:02am
If government is so powerful, kind and benevolent, why do employees of the government, paid for by the taxpaying citizenry, require a union to protect them from this kind and benevolent entity? 
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 7:26am
The answer my friend
Is in the acronym
the answer is in the acronym
Ward Tipton Added Jan 10, 2019 - 7:41am
And the devil is in the details?
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 7:50am
One might say that, yes
Doug Plumb Added Jan 10, 2019 - 10:31am
lol, good story but Trump isn't that bad. I first saw the duck billed platypus in a book then at the zoo. I'll never forget the capybara.
The line about the teat and milk was good. Did you come up with that?
It sounds to me like Ramona would rather work for the democrats than republicans.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 10:52am
As, it seems Doug, do most employed in government service. The milk from the teat is not an original idea, but this application is my own. It seems to fit. 
Trump is no savior, but hes not a monster hes portrayed either. Great comedic material though. 
Thanks Doug. Glad you got a laugh. Seems those most up in arms over the shutdown are the same most up in arms over Trump also, all having a common interest in the business as usual.
Leroy Added Jan 10, 2019 - 1:26pm
Funny story.  I half expected RBG to make an appearance.
Dino Manalis Added Jan 10, 2019 - 1:35pm
 The shutdown and reopening the entire government is a national emergency, while illegal immigration has been a chronic problem that a wall would stem, but not eliminate.  We need investigation of all vehicles crossing the border.
Dave Volek Added Jan 10, 2019 - 1:50pm
The piece deserves a bigger audience than Writer Beat. Hope it goes somewhere.
But now you've opened a Pandora's box. Keep all civil servants on a lockdown. 
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 2:02pm
With the exception of Ward, Doug, and sometimes Leroy, you've got the applause of the usual sycophants, TBH. 
The Owl Added Jan 10, 2019 - 2:20pm
A fun read.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 2:49pm
Leroy - RBG may very well return to this page in the near future. There is a great deal of comic material there too!
Dave - thanks. It was suggested some time ago that there would be no harm in continuing to post material here simultaneously. I have done so, though not consistently. Most of what I write is not of a political nature, but seeing as how WB is populated by what seem to be mostly political junkies these pieces fit in.
Nobody's Sweetheart Added Jan 10, 2019 - 2:50pm
Oh fuck, I just remembered I have some eggs frying...I'll catch this later.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 2:50pm
Owl!  Glad you got a hoot out of it! 
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 2:54pm
Rev ,   it must really suck to be you. Were you born without a sense of humor or did your pathetic existence just beat it out of you?
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 3:00pm
Michael, you miscreant! Go take care of those eggs before you burn the place down! What the hell is wrong with you? Normal people dont act that way. Youre on drugs! If youre not..... You should be!
Even A Broken Clock Added Jan 10, 2019 - 3:39pm
Burghal - Bravo!  Author! Author!  Oh, that's right, it's you. I've missed your acerbic wit, although you may also have a future episode where Ramona meets Hemingway. I agree with Dave. You ought to see if there's a market for Hell's Chronicles.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 4:06pm
Maybe a Ramona/Hemingway/RBG menage, eh? Pretty sick. I think that's a good idea. Maybe. After Michael is done frying his eggs (or putting out the fire) we'll get his thoughts. He is our resident Vulgarian :)
Thank you Clock :) There may be a collection at some point. Probably going to have to break down and find an editor I can work with. HA! I pity the poor bastard!
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 4:17pm
Further, TBH, anything written with profanity, is not worth reading.  You have talent as a writer, but if you want a broad audience, keep writing uncouth.  If you want the approval of those who are discerning, you'll remove the profanity. 
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 4:29pm
What, are you trying to audition for the editing job? Who says I'm looking for a broad audience? Broad audiences are for pulp fiction. I want a discerning audience. What you are suggesting is something akin to writing for Disney. That's about as likely as you going away and staying away
Doug Plumb Added Jan 10, 2019 - 4:48pm
I have to use your writing as an example of how to re write my Dr Treekenstein. Its a distant project, about 40 regular pages. I could expand it too. You and Tube are the only ones here that write for the joy of writing, of which I can relate. But everyone else has something to say and that is why they are here, and the main reason I am here. I want people to challenge my views.
I agree with Ryan (hate to admit that). It is better not to use bad words.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 5:29pm
I can do that too, but when you are writing about bad people it's best to paint them warts and all
Doug Plumb Added Jan 10, 2019 - 6:00pm
It is difficult to describe a profane situation without using actual profanity. I said that to a group of 200 or more people once.
FacePalm Added Jan 10, 2019 - 7:53pm
Who'd'a thunk you could take a song called "Ramona's Angry Beaver" and turn it into an engrossing short story?  And with yuks, yet!
Bravo, senor, bravo.
However, you may have missed the pornographic possibilities, perhaps in deference to the more strait-laced of the audience.
Have to admit, i was pretty fond of the 70's saying "Save a Tree!  Eat a Beaver!"
Perhaps, one day, a Sequel...
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 8:01pm
You can take a man out of a libertine, but you can't take a libertine out of a man.
Poor Facepalm.  A pathetic slave of his desires.  Now, commence your latest hypocrite sermon on pride.  LOL.
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 8:15pm
If I can be allowed to demonstrate what I mean by good writing, sans profanity, TBH, I will exhibit my own recent handiwork,
There once was a sadist named Mogg,
who disliked comments his post down would bog,
So with abandon that was reckless,
He deleted them, though reasons were quite feckless,
And now is universally disliked on the WB Blog.
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 8:17pm
And since the spirit of poetry is upon me, I may as well ride it out.
There once was a very profane man named Jeff,
He was a very devoted inhabitant of the American left,
His language was vile and crude,
His ideas equally distasteful and lewd,
and of sense and decency he was nearly completely bereft. 
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 8:20pm
And I don't want to dishonor you, so in your honor,
TBH appeared on WB to inhabit the right,
However, when rightist ideas were promoted, against them he did fight,
However, he was a devoted libertine,
and in habits, quite a Philistine,
and had a funny habit of those on the right detesting the sight. 
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 8:59pm
Go back to school.You are tone deaf and have no cadence. I have already demonstrated the superior use of the medium with you as the subject (and, as I recall, without profanity) Would you like we can trot that one out again? You are not welcome on my threads. Get the fuck out and stay the fuck out 
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 9:11pm
Throwing F-bombs around.  You are a lousy conservative.
Too bad you are a slave of your emotions, because you can't even control your responses, they are dictated by your feelings. 
Any polish your writing has is exactly the same as the polish a fly is attracted to on manure.  It attracts the wrong types and unlike manure, your writing has no useful purpose. 
I think I'll go wherever I please on WB, you wretched libertine, and you'd do well to learn not to talk to your betters like that. 
TBH the lecher wrote some pretty prose,
And it was admired by the obsequious though not by his righteous foes,
When it's profane tone was not commended,
His good humor abruptly and immediately ended,
and he made efforts to give another vile dose.
Katharine Otto Added Jan 10, 2019 - 9:24pm
Most federal employees already work for the Devil.  Cute story.  From what I understand, those who are being denied their paychecks work for agencies I would like to see abolished, anyway, like the TSA and SEC.  Secret Service.  Homeland Security.  One can only hope.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 9:41pm
fingers crossed
Ryan Messano Added Jan 10, 2019 - 9:50pm
Totally agree, Katharine.
TSA is our $7 billion Muslim tax.  Homeland Security is a total waste as well.  Under Obama, they did far more damage to America than they protected it. 
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 9:50pm
Rev the principal difference between us is this: I am here because I choose to be. You are here because no other forum would have you....and, look! No profanity. Because that, you see, is also a choice
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 9:53pm
so I choose to conclude our little dialogue with this:
Nobody's Sweetheart Added Jan 10, 2019 - 10:25pm
TSA - Touching Sensitive Areas. Speaking of sensitive areas, WTF is the Rev doing here, besides living vicariously through us? I think he should get a job writing moralizing tales for Chick Publications, the same people who bring us those hilarious little pamphlets like "Bad Bob" and witty dialog like "Bad Bob is rude, crude, and socially unacceptable, but we LOVE him because he sells us drugs!"
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 10:41pm
I thought it was thousands standing around, but I like yours :) As an homage to Burrows you should incorporate the words mugwump jism into one of your many changing monikers. No Jeff Jackson, but that was okay, right?
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 10, 2019 - 10:44pm
mugwump.....many.....mon-i-kers .......nah. Still missing something
Nobody's Sweetheart Added Jan 11, 2019 - 3:32am
"Ramona had a bottle of Grey Goose and half a scrip of Vicodin in her desk should the unthinkable arise."
Funny, at one of my old watering holes, a large contingent of their clientele consisted of female employees of the Gub'mint center. Many, many portions of booze and dope went enthusiastically down their throats, in addition to more-or-less regular loads from myself and others. Ramona sounds like a featherweight; the uncivil servants I "knew" would have guzzled a bottle and a half of Bacardi 151, popped a baker's dozen of extra-strength Vicodins, and smoked an El Cabongo cigar-sized joint before they even left their fuckin' houses, lol.
FacePalm Added Jan 11, 2019 - 4:37am
munkee?  madame?  mademoiselle?  meretricious?  mammaries?  memories?  malaria? 
(i could go on...)
Nobody's Sweetheart Added Jan 11, 2019 - 4:51am
Rosypalm, please go, on and on, preferably until you reach a steep cliff, then...keep going...on and on...until you fall and land on something that impales you from your anus to your eyeballs...just the way you like it, lol. God's will, while Jesus watches!
Stone-Eater Added Jan 11, 2019 - 7:25am
4get to poem. You're out of rhythm. Concentrate on reciting the bible. No fun, but at least no harm to readers who care about style. And don't forget to mention virtue and founders in comments. Without them you have no Wiedererkennungswert. (Sorry, there's no adequate word in English I know. Probably you know one, if not, ask the teacher).
Stone-Eater Added Jan 11, 2019 - 7:32am
Nice story. But compared to the Bushes and the fake negro 0bama who has done nada for the place that half of him came from, Trump hasn't been too bad so far - seeing his foreign policy. What's internal US, I can't judge.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 11, 2019 - 7:55am
That translates roughly as nothing noteworthy....i think. Thats my best rendering of it
Stone-Eater Added Jan 11, 2019 - 7:58am
...recognition value, says Google. I don't think that corresponds really....
Stone-Eater Added Jan 11, 2019 - 8:18am
BTW: You like AC/DC I suppose.
Ward Tipton Added Jan 11, 2019 - 8:22am
AC/DC proved conclusively that even with a limited musical ability ... most of their music is limited to three chords if I remember correctly? You can still make music that rocks! 
FacePalm Added Jan 11, 2019 - 9:09am
Michael B-
i DO entertain great hopes that one day, you will indeed mature past teenage fantasies, playing in your profanity, indulging in cartoonish mockery, and general wallowing in perversity.  You must have been SUCH a disappointment to your parental units.
But on the bright side, you can be a brilliant writer.  Occasionally, you have a good sense of humor, too, but soliciting suicide?  Encouraging it?  WtF's wrong wit choo, boi?  You think that's FUNNY?  You must not know anyone who did themselves in...or seen the mess...or had to clean it up...
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 11, 2019 - 10:52am
AC DC......meh. Couple of their songs, but not a huge fan
Neil Lock Added Jan 11, 2019 - 11:28am
TBH: I knew there was a flaw somewhere in your story! I finally found it. The music the Devil was trying to play on the piano was not by Debussy. No, the piece was by a later French composer ...Messiaen.
But the Darn-Poor Rhymer saw the awful attempts at limericks made by a certain individual on this thread, and felt impelled to respond. Preserving the purity of the genre, and all that.
There was once a young man called Messano,
Who made love to a fortepiano.
But the hammers did hit
Him so hard, he said "Quit!
From now on, I'll do it a mano."
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 11, 2019 - 11:54am
LOL!  Thats priceless Neil!
Dave Volek Added Jan 11, 2019 - 12:35pm
Now that's cadence in a limerick.
Dave Volek Added Jan 11, 2019 - 12:37pm
I thought I was over being a political junkie. No real preference for one party over another these days. No staying totally glued to the TV news, watching power ebb and flow. But remnants of my former addiction may still linger. I just might not be fully cured.
Ward Tipton Added Jan 11, 2019 - 12:44pm
I moved half way around the world in large part to become politically apathetic ... I seriously doubt it will ever work for any of us who are actually trying to make the world a better place. 
Ryan Messano Added Jan 11, 2019 - 1:34pm
TBH, you and the rest of the pusillanimous, cowardly, corrupt pansies on here CANNOT STAND ON ANY ISSUE BY YOURSELF.  Got that, you wimpy and pathetic excuse for a man?
You fit in with the corrupt crowd, and are PROUD OF IT.  You've no standards, and are a wretched disgrace to America, along with Michael B., Neil, Dave, and the hypocritical Facepalm.  Facepalm is the worst of you, because he will quote Bible, while at least the rest of you are honest about not practicing it.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 11, 2019 - 2:35pm
High praise coming from a FUCKNUT like you:         
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 11, 2019 - 2:39pm
I'm sure as residents of the UK and Canada respectively Neil and Dave will be chagrined to learn that they are a disgrace to this country. You are so talented where it comes to being a disgrace we had to import contenders from elsewhere just to keep up with you
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 11, 2019 - 2:41pm
Looking around the board here rev I see you've been a busy little faggot. Business slow in your hand job parlor today?
Dave Volek Added Jan 11, 2019 - 2:52pm
I won't even try to write a limerick. What a disgrace!
Ryan Messano Added Jan 11, 2019 - 4:22pm
Ah, that explains it.  Dave, Neil, and Stone are foreign busybodies who can't understand the Munroe Doctrine.  That means, for the 3 of you, that we stay out of your business, and you stay out of ours.  All 3 of you have far worse problems in your own nations than we have here. Further, no one wants to go to your nations from America, but many people from your nations want to come here. 
Ryan Messano Added Jan 11, 2019 - 4:23pm
Nah, just made $200 this morning, TBH, which puts me on pace for $6,000 for the month. Capitalism.  Unlike you, people trust me. 
I'd never do business with people like you or the liberals on here.  Totally untrustworthy. 
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 11, 2019 - 6:35pm
$6000! Gracious! Thats 24, 000 hand jobs in a month! Thats like a hand job every two minutes! Now I know youre a liar beause your arms are too fucking skinny for that kind of traffic
Stone-Eater Added Jan 12, 2019 - 5:33am
The once was a guy called Messano
who took what's called god for his hero
He didn't find out
that life's all about
believing kid's tales shows the psycho.
Stone-Eater Added Jan 12, 2019 - 5:35am
All 3 of you have far worse problems in your own nations than we have here. 
Sure. We're in all-out war in Switzerland since the 1900's . And in Senegal the natives kill, cook and eat non-Muslims and Whites anyway LOL
Tamara Wilhite Added Jan 15, 2019 - 11:30am
Cool story.
The Burghal Hidage Added Jan 16, 2019 - 2:26pm
A latecomer!  Thank you Tamara. That means a great deal coming from one with such talents :)