CSI: American Carnage (Saturday, May 23, 2020)
IN THE CYBER — Shhh! says the Professor from behind a rock in a Cyber grotto. There is REvil. They are resting, probably plotting. Down the tunnel, several figures, one with a horse’s head, one witchlike, one with a clapper for a hand, one with pearls for eyes, are hunched over large cloth bags. The tunnel is redolent with the smell of cured presidential shit. Boris, congenial triple agent, says, I know that stench anywhere. Sarah, Timmy’s friend from the resistance potluck, says, The Autocrat is a curator of his own waste. It’s well known. He saves it and lets it slowly ripen. He then feeds it to his entourage to ensure their loyalty, ˜Little Timmy, pup reporter, says, That’s disgusting. Sarah says, It is the Autocrat. He is obsessive in his efforts to demean. Mohammed, Timmy’s friend, says, So why is this hacker gang hanging out with sacks of Trump’s poop? Timmy says, Let’s find out. The strike force heads quietly up the tunnel, creeping closer and closer. At the last moment, the horse’s head says, Why don’t you just come out from behind the rock? The Professor steps forward and says, You are the infamous hacker gang, REvil. And you have bags of Trump’s shit. Why? The horse’s head laughs. He says, It was genius’ idea, this one. He points to the pirate with pearls for his eyes. The Pirate jumps up. Shiver me timbers! he cries. You didn’t have to go along with it! You coulda objected! The horse’s head says, No matter. He turns to the Professor and says, We hacked into the Grubman data base and yanked Madonna and Gaga, just pulled em right out, squealing like hogs let loose in a rose garden. The Professor says, Yes, we heard about that. The witchy figure says, Grubman laughs at us. He says, Who cares about them? Everybody knows and everybody’s seen. No value. The horse’s head says, So we seen that was right. In this goddamn country nobody cares about the important stuff that you have to think about. They figure there’s nothing to know about Madonna that you don’t already know in your hands, ya know. So we said we got Trump’s dirty laundry. We figure, that must be worth something. Sarah laughs. Trump’s poo-poo undies! Ha ha ha. The horse’s head looks sadly toward her and says, I guess the joke’s on us. – Saturday, May 23, 2020