Satire by Allan McNew
The Clinton roadies were amped about setting up the latest rally in southern California, because Hillary thought if she changed the format of her rallies to something with more audience participation she might be able to edge Sanders to the side of the road and pound Trump from the southland, and they wanted to help her make it work.
So, they set up the giant backdrop of Guadalupe, carefully placed giant portraits of Emiliano Zapata, holding a 30-30 repeating rifle in one hand and a sword in the other, on one side of Guadalupe and another of Pancho Villa, posing with a group of children on his hacienda, on the other side (estate confiscated from the Terazzos and given to Villa as a
bribe to not cause the new Mexican government trouble, picture taken shortly before Villa was assassinated by President Obregon's henchmen), calibrating picture placements for the best visual effect.
Going back to the truck, which they had neglected to close the cargo door while they were inside obsessing on perfection of placement, they were startled to find Hillary's beloved “This is going to the White House” talking pudendum prop missing, as was her solar powered
microphone. The boss wasn't going to like that.
So. it was with a personal sense of doom they placed the Clinton “I'm the only one” campaign podium, hung the Trump pinata and the giant banner proclaiming “Mi tierra, Mi orgullo!” over the stage. A Mexican flag was stretched on the bottom lip of the stage, the American flag was
conspicuously absent from the scene.
It was clear from event promotion literature that only the Latino vote was welcome, and Hillary and her crew were the only whites in the building for the event.
That afternoon, after Hillary fired the roadies, the room filled to capacity, the lights dimmed a little, and of all songs, “Jususita en Chihuahua” blasted at about 9000 decibels.
Toward the end of the song, Hillary come on stage carrying a molcajete in one hand and a small comal in the other and stood next to a metate with nixtamal heaped on it, wearing a huipil and a black wig with trenzas. As the applause died down, she went to a table having a four place setting of the #1 combination plate with an enchilada, taco, chile relleno, rice and beans. A warmer basket for tortillas was perched on top next to a couple of forty ounce bottles of beer, labels turned to the back of the stage. She reverently placed the molcajete and comal on the table.
Taking her place behind the podium, she said, “I will not only be the nation's first female President, I am also your mother and you have a place at the table too.” A faint voice from the back said “Y tu madre tambien, pinche guera!”. Clinton continued, “I have decided that the nation needs to hear your voice as well as mine, would someone like to say something?” She selected a man from the crowd and said “please identify yourself” and the man replied “I am Hector Gonsalves, a reporter from the 'El Hablador de la Raza' daily newspaper. I notice
that your event flier says that your favorite breakfast is 'Huevos de Ranchero'. Don't you mean 'Huevos Rancheros'? There were sniggers from the audience. Clinton replied “I order Huevos de Ranchero” every time I go to my favorite restaurant, 'Mojados Traviesos', and they bring me eggs over easy on a corn tortilla with either green or red sauce on top,
and the people there are all from Oaxaca.” Hector said “What you're ordering is 'Rancher's testicles', don't you hear any laughing coming out of the kitchen when you order that?” Clinton said “They're from Oaxaca and it's a different dialect. I'm not going to listen to your male privilege bullying anymore.”
Hillary selected an elderly man from the front center row, who was wearing a battered, old Che Guevara beret, bottle bottom glasses, had a cane leaning against his knee, and obviously had two female caretakers on each side of him. The man stood, cane clattering to the floor, and thundered “ I was a part of Partido La Raza Unida when it was formed in Ciudad de Cristal in Condido de Zavala in Tejas, and I went to...” He was momentarily frozen in mid sentence with a puzzled look, then turned to the woman on the right and said, “Mijita, where did I go?... Yo se! Yo se!” He turned back to Clinton and resumed his thunder with “I went with Jose Angel Gutierrez when we petitioned el Presidente de los Estados Unidos Mexicanos Luis Echeverria Alvarez for his assistance in returning the borders to what they were in 1834!” Smacking the back of his right hand twice into the palm of his left, he shouted “!Ya Basta!
What are YOU doing for LA CAUSA?” Clinton stood in stunned silence while the two women coaxed the old man to sit down. The one on the right retrieved his cane.
Another person was selected from second row left. The man stood and declared “ I am Cauahtemoc Huitzilopochtli, I am...” whereupon he was interrupted with a voice from the crowd, “Your name is Ray Varrios, I went to high school with you and you didn't roll your Rs until you got on that radio show.” Varrios turned and shouted “That was my slave name!” Varrios turned back to Clinton and continued, “I am an ethnics studies professor, radio show host and publisher of 'La Vida Pocho' magazine.” The professor then became hysterical and loudly ranted “The racist whites and pinches N!@##$s are pushing our barrios into the
ocean, and hunting us down like animals in our own bronze continent!!”
An old man towards the left back wearing a ball cap emblazoned with “Korean War Veteran” stood up and yelled “I'm from San Diego and You Don't Speak For Me!”. The old school Chicano in front stood up, turned to the professor and commenced shaking his cane at Varrios and yelling, “Vendido! Why do you deny your heritage? Pinche coconut!” Flummoxed by being scolded out of the blue by an old veterano of the old time Chicano movement, the professor shut up and sat down while the women got the old man distracted and sitting down again.
Hillary next selected a very fit, younger man with a high and tight, whitewall haircut, who stood and said “I'm a gunnery sergeant who served two tours each in Iraq and Afghanistan. I was born in Zacatecas, Mexico. One day my daughters came home from school talking about being Mexican, and I corrected them that they are Americans, that the people waving Mexican flags on TV are claiming allegiance to a nation which doesn't want them, that the only use the corrupt Mexican government has for them is to meddle in our American politics.”
A thrown water bottle smacked him hard behind the ear, nearly knocking him over. The old Chicano stood and yelled “!Vendido! !Vendido! !Vendido!” and flailed his cane around. The crowd erupted, some quick stepping for the door, others yelling “Racist!” or “We are indigenous!”, scattered fights were breaking out, water bottles were flying through the room and several among the crowd brought a large cooler full of water bottles to the front and began pelting the Trump pinata with bottles.
The stage was overrun. The professor was yelling about the KKK and white privilege over the microphone while others were burning the American flag on stage. Hillery and her crew fled out the back and escaped in the delivery truck. Others from the crowd ran out the back also, carrying with them the #1 combo plates and the forty ounce bottles of beer as well as the portraits of Zapata and Villa. The two caretakers were anxiously guiding the old Chicano out while he continually yelled “!Vendido!” and flailed his cane at everyone within striking distance as he was propelled onward to the door.
The flag burning activity caught the drapes on fire, which quickly spread to the building, which was soon a total loss.
With breaking news, the media blamed Trump for the riot, who was eating a Jumbo Jack on his airplane somewhere over New York on his way to Ohio when it all went down.
-- Political Pistachio Conservative News and Commentary