CSI: American Carnage (Wednesday, March 20, 2019)
SENECA, S.C. – The Ghost of John McCain finds the back door to Lindsey’s house unlocked. He enters, leaving a trail of mud and decayed flesh on the kitchen floor. He calls out, Lindsey! Lindsey! Are you here? Where is my beautiful Lindsey? There is no response but silence. The Ghost slogs into the living room and finally into the den. He waits. He has plenty of time. Ghosts have time, if not much else. The day turns into night, still no Lindsey. The ghost sits in front of a large teevee, but does not watch. He waits. As the clock nears midnight, car lights play across the window. The Ghost thinks, It is Lindsey! After a few moments the back door opens. Lindsey can be heard. Lindsey says, Look at this mess! I’ll have Hector clean it up in the morning. Now is time for some music. He switches on the sound system and Master of Puppets pounds through the house, knocking over a vase. Lindsey sings, Da, da, da … chop your breakfast on a mirror… Taste me, you will see, more is all you need … da, da, da, master, master, master…. He grabs a beer and dances into the den. There he sees the Ghost of McCain. The beer falls to the floor. Lindsey says, What the hell! He backs away as the Ghost rises and says, Lindsey, Lindsey. Lindsey says, No! You’re dead. You are definitely dead. There is no doubt whatever about that. Your death is in the books. You were laid out under the dome. You’re as dead as a door-nail. I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironwork. But it’s an old saying and we honor history in Seneca. So no question, you’re as dead as a door-nail. And I’m as white as a sheet, though not a Ralph Lauren sheet, not one of those! The Ghost looks up at Lindsey. He says, And here I am, returned from a long journey, goddamit, and all I get from my beautiful Lindsey is fear and Metallica blaring through the sound system. This is what I get? Lindsey, recovered, looks closely at the Ghost. He says, You look poorly, John, even for a dead man. Piss poor, I’d say. The Ghost says, It’s not a picnic in Rock Creek, you little twerp. Ha ha ha! Lindsey smiles. He says, That’s my John, always ready to take a kick at somebody. The Ghost says, Lindsey, I need to talk with you. Lindsey says, I figured you had a reason to go full Z Nation on me. Oh John! I miss you so! The Ghost says, Keep it up. Keep it up the way you’re going and you’ll join me soon. I thought we had an understanding. I thought we agreed that there were some principles. Lindsey says, There are. There are. He cocks his head. Lindsey says, What are you talking about, old man? The Ghost says, You’ve turned your back on me and everything I stood for, stand for. Lindsey says, I’ve been captured John. Captured! They’re torturing me. I can’t get away. The Ghost says, Come with me, I want to show you some things. Lindsey says, Can I grab another beer? The Ghost says, You may need it. He rises from the sofa, his forearm dropping to the powder blue carpet with a splat.
— Wednesday, March 20, 2019