On a dark humid Florida night a black sedan meanders toward a mansion where a meeting is to take place about an investment opportunity. A Racial Justice Patrol Car, with a SCB (Successful Conservative Bulletin) taped to its dash, sirens screaming, lights flashing, headlights beaming on high blinding anyone looking back, compels a pullover.
The two officers, guns drawn, loudspeakers in the other hand shout, “Get out of the car — NOW!” A slimmed-down radio talk show host exits, EIB microphone in hand. The racial cops scream, “Put your hands on the car and keep your big mouth away from the mike!”
Host: “Are you arresting me?”
Weapons cocked and aimed, the two race cops yell, “We told you to SHUT UP! You have the need to remain silent while we convict you of racial hatred without a single shred of evidence! You will own no professional sports team or any other business in the USA. You have the right to leave the country as long as you leave your EIB microphone here. Is that clear?!”
As Jesse and Al lower their loudspeakers, secular progressives, far lefties, all news organizations except Fox, an NFL owner, a smattering of football players and an assortment of Obama sycophants are orgasmic in their response. It’s reminiscent of millions of Germans in the ’30s screaming for that little nut with the mustache as he blasted the reasons for German “living space” and scapegoating of the Jews.
Al: “We approved Keith Olbermann telecasting Sunday Night Football. We Race Cops are proud of his non-divisive comments such as you saying your success paved the way for Glenn Beck ‘… is like congratulating yourself for spreading syphilis.’ We also didn’t bat an eye when Michael ‘Canine Killer’ Vick returned. We look the other way at the plethora of criminal activity that takes place almost every day by players and coaches in the NFL.”
Host: “But officer this is America…”
Racial cops: “We warned you!” Suddenly, a Taser whizzes by, followed by screams plunging through the thick humid South Florida air. The victim, quivering while squealing, collapses to the asphalt ending up as a sobbing twitching mass.
Jesse: “What did you do to me, Al?!”
Sharpton: “Sorry bro.”
Jesse: “Do you think you can aim the squad car at a hospital? Dinkens and Hannity were right about you! Just avoid the Hymie part of town!”
Al: “At least we don’t have to pass through Crown Heights with all the black-hatted, bearded diamond merchants!”
