Photo by Bill Stokes
By Bill Stokes
Kickass, the doorstop dog, watched from his napping position as the keeper crept out of bed sometime before 6:33 am with the inexplicable uneasy feeling that the sun may not rise as usual.
As he watched the dark eastern horizon there was the gradual emergence of a red glow that grew in size and intensity and was interpreted by the keeper as the sun’s blushing embarrassment at the prospect of being duty-bound to illuminate a global disaster that was not long from developing the stench of planetary decomposition.
The red blush went on so long that the keeper considered waking Phyllis to tell her the sun was not coming up today and she might want to consider heavier clothing.
Given all the Earth’s chaos brought on by the MAGAT ASStronuts, the keeper considered giving the apparent reluctant sun a little pep talk of encouragement. Mabe something like,“Come on, you sun-of-a-bitch. If we can put up with one more day of the Earth’s morality eclipse, so can you!”
Just as the keeper was about to step out onto the balcony to deliver his message, the sun peeked over the red horizon and slowly began to distribute its sunshine over everything and everybody. That includes even the MAGAT Republicans who will of course immediately agree that all the sunshine on Sept. 10, 2026 will be coming to them, as usual, through the exigencies of their dear demented leader.
Kickass will be applying for a job as a “sundog” with provisions to snarl and bite and bark at sunshine-denying clouds wafting out from the White House.
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