Romney starts over

Romney starting over from the beginning.

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"If I did it once I can do it again" said a somewhat disheveled and pathetic Romney at his new job. His wife Ann was inside behind the counter quietly crying, telling customers to eat cake and slipping 20's into her bra. The floor was littered with torn up home redecorating magazines and pictures of Michelle Obama. She fired up a cigarette beneath the "No smoking" sign and gave the finger to her huckster husband outside.

Mitt's sons, Tab, Biff and Powie pulled in one by one in their Euro-trash sports cars and made dad give them a fill-up while they laughed and brandished money to impress the hookers they had riding shotgun. No one went in to see Ann. They knew better. An old friend watched silently at the pathos. As the son's squealed away, Romney began dousing himself with fuel.

"Uh, Mitt? the friend said carefully, "Don't be so hard on yourself. You never really started like this. Your Dad gave you a million bucks and his friends gave you a leg up. You just were good at destroying perfectly good companies and filling your pockets. It's OK you lost the election and can't even pump gas competently."

Mitt looked up, his face full of sorrow and wet with gasoline and newly diluted grease from the oily pomade that used to slick back his heavily dyed hair. "You think maybe I don't need to immolate myself?"

"That's right, Mitt, you're just a chiseling rich bastard like me, nothing wrong with that," his friend said earnestly.

The front door of the convenience mart opened and Ann walked out, obviously shaken and irritable from drinking a case of 5 hour energy and downing a rack of Krispy Kremes. She had a lit cigarette in her mouth and removed it slowly, eying the two friends who began backing away. ""You got that insurance paid up Mitty?" she said holding the butt in flick position in her trembling hands.

"No" said Mitt shakily. "Liar" she said flatly, "I paid it myself this morning." The cigarette took flight.