My Kingdom for a Twinkie

Bob knew he was late, but he hoped his connection had waited. The dealer had warned him many times to not show up after dark he believed the neighborhood was extremely dangerous after the sun went down. Bob didn’t find the neighborhood to be all that safe in daylight either. He didn’t have a choice, he was addicted and like most addicts he couldn’t see no way out. Lucky for him the dealer was still there when he got off the bus.
“Where you been man, I’ve been waiting?”
“Sorry, the buses don’t run like they used to. I had to wait two hours to get one. Maybe if you didn’t charge so much for your junk I could afford a car.”
“Hey man, I got expenses. I need to get someone to buy the stuff and bring it across the border. You think that’s cheap? I have to pay off the cops and they ain’t cheap. This shit is hard man. Since they passed that last law there are more cops out here with their hands out.”
“Ok… Ok just let me see the stuff, maybe give me a little taste.”
“No way man, I give you a taste and you’ll want it all. I got other customers to take care of. How much do you want?”
“Give me ten packs.”
“No can do, how about five? A hundred a pack.”
“Alright.” He counted out five one hundred bills and passed them to the dealer.
The dealer took a brown paper bag out from behind his back and passed it to Bob. “Here are your Twinkies dude. See you next week.”
Instead of waiting for the bus home he decided to walk. On his hurried walk, he passed at least a dozen Green Goop restaurants. The foul odor of the kale, broccoli, beans, and secret sauce all pureed into a terrible tasting glob almost turned his stomach. Since Green Goop was the only food allowed by the Federal Government the lines in front of the restaurants were long. If any of those poor undernourished creatures knew what he had in his bag he would surely be killed. He also passed at least twenty of what had been come to be known as fart stations. Fortunately, Green Goop produced a great deal of gas in anyone who ate it. All citizens were required to fart in the fart stations. The methane gas from these stations was then converted to electricity that powered the grid. Since President Gore had outlawed any use of oil, coal, or nuclear power to stop the end of the world due to global warming the methane was a godsend. Bob could never understand why the United States was the only country making any kind of sacrifice to stop climate change. He realized he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the bag, maybe the elites knew something he didn’t.
He finally made it to his building, only one more obstacle remained and he’d be home. Each building had a breathalyzer that would detect if a resident had eaten anything but Green Goop. An alarm would sound and the front door would remain locked. Word on the street was that the only food stuffs that could not be detected were Twinkies and Clark Bars. Who the hell would eat a Clark Bar? He had managed to stuff a Twinkie in his mouth on his long walk, so he approached the breathalyzer cautiously. No problem, the door unlocked and he was in his building. He unlocked the door to his single room apartment and entered.
The power was down again, not enough Methane. He’d heard that the Methane shortages were caused by more and more Americans fleeing to Mexico. The estimates were that 80% of working class Americans had entered Mexico illegally. Who could blame them, they were only seeking a better life. The Mexican President was ranting and raving about building a wall to stem the flow of gringos. Racist Mexican officials were heard complaining about the new arrivals. They considered them lazy and unwilling to take part in their glorious Mexican culture. Most couldn’t even speak Spanish. There was a movement afoot to send the gringos back to where they belonged.
Bob sat in the dark savoring a Twinkie until the power was restored. He thanked God for the gas produced by the Green Goop and turned on his 6 “ TV. The screen was immediately filled by the overstuffed face of President Al Gore. Bob didn’t believe anyone could get that fat by eating only Green Goop. Gore and Vice President Michael Moore had been elected after defeating Hilary Clinton in the general election. It was Ms. Clintons fifth defeat running for the country’s highest office. Her supporters were outraged. She had won the popular vote 107 to Gore’s measly 104. Gore had won the electoral vote 25 to 24.
Gore had switched his allegiance to the Republican Party after he realized anyone could beat Clinton. She had been giving the same campaign speech for twenty years now, it still wasn’t working. Even dragging a clearly mummified Bill behind her, like Linus with his blanket, couldn’t help her. Gore had won the Republican nomination unopposed. No one else wanted the job. Mainly because the last five Republican Presidents had been shot and killed by the anti gun/anti violence group MAGV (Mothers Against Gun Violence).
No member of MAGV had ever gone to jail for the assassinations. Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, Kim Kardashian, whose fat ass now dragged along the floor behind her like some humongous snail, announced that the mothers had every right to kill the Republicans because they were on the right side of history. Whatever the hell that meant. Most court observers were surprised with the decision. That was until they remembered that the Supreme Court was now made up entirely of long legged vapid fashion models and gigantic assed actresses.
Bob sat there stuffing Twinkies into his face staring at the TV waiting to be entertained. Instead he turned the sound off as President Gore droned on. He had Twinkies to eat he couldn’t allow Gore to put him asleep again. At least Vice President Moore had been somewhat entertaining but he was gone now. Rumor had it that during a recent cabinet meeting he mistook Secretary of State Madonna for a donut and tried to swallow her whole. He died from either choking or from venereal disease.
He might as well turn the TV off, only minor celebrities were still around. All the big stars had left the country by now. They had special charter flights leaving from LA and New York for anywhere but Mexico. Only “A” stars were allowed on these flights. One heartbreaking scene showed ex-movie star Alec Baldwin attempting to board one of the flights only to be turned away. He could be heard yelling at those on the plane, “hey fellas wait for me. I’m one of you.” An aggravated Clint Eastwood was forced to push Baldwin aside and tell him, “no game show hosts allowed… well maybe Alex Trebek, and you sir are no Alex Trebek. “
As he stared blankly at the darkened idiot box Bob had a sudden desire for a big fat juicy hamburger. The urge was so strong he almost spit out his Twinkie. Hamburgers, and all meat and meat by-products had been gone for a long time. PETA had been able to pass legislation outlawing the consumption or use of any animal products. The only animals still around were a few stray cats stashed away in old lady’s apartments. Without the interference from heartless humans the gentle creatures had all managed to kill and eat each other.
It finally occurred to Bob that he’d had enough. He couldn’t see himself in Mexico, too many Americans. He’d saved enough money to satisfy his Twinkie addiction or to get the hell out. There were still a few flights out. Where would he go? Without too much thought the answer was obvious. France was the place to go, it was the new home of “The Whopper” and they didn’t give a shit about climate change. Maybe he could get a few Twinkies for the long flight.