SCENE: It’s an ordinary morning in the home of Edwin DUCHEY, Proprietor at the (possibly fictional) progressive blog “MinnesotaLiberalAlliance.Blogspot.com”. DuChey was badly scarred by a childhood in which he was routinely bullied – by much younger children.
He’s sitting in the living room, sorting through emails on his phone, as his partner, Stacey Hinton, Executive Director of “Keep All Racists Eternally Nonplussed”, a white progressive support group and, like DuChey, a commited but unremarkable DFL activist, does much the same.
Their daughter, NIGELLA DUCHEY-HINTON, age 6, crawls into the room on all fours.
NIGELLA: Look, meowther and ffffffffather. I’m a kitty cat!
DUCHEY: (Looks at HINTON). What do you think, honey?
HINTON: Nigella? That’s an important decision, but you know I support and love you no matter what.
DUCHEY: (Looks at his phone). Honey? There’s a clinic in Honduras that specializes in species transition…oh, look, it says “for American progressives!”.
NIGELLA: You mean puurrrrrr-fect! (NIGELLA crawls from the room)
DUCHEY: Yes, Nigella!! I’ll book a ticket to…uh, what’s the capital of Honduras, hon?
DUCHEY: I’ll get on it.
(As DUCHEY scrolls around looking for tickets to Austin, Honduras, their oldest son, Bjorn O’BRIEN – Hinton’s 14 year old son from a previous relationship, walks into the room.
O’BRIEN: I am Napoleon Buonaparte!
HINTON: Do tell, Bjorn.
O’BRIEN: It’s not Bjorn. I am Napoleon. My destiny is to conquer the world.
DUCHEY: So you identify as…Napoleon, the president of France in World War 2w?
HINTON: (Sotto Voce). The Civil War, honey.
O’BRIEN: Identifying has nothing to do with it. I am Napoleon. Could you lend me $500 until Jefferson buys Louisiana from me?
HINTON: Give him my MAPE Credit Union card, Ed.
(DUCHEY fishes card out of his fanny pack and gives it to young Bjorn, who doffs his “admiral” hat in a grand imperial salute before leaving the room)
HINTON: He needs a shower.
HINTON: They didn’t take as many of them in 1895, during the Civil War.
HINTON: Oh, right. Of course.
(Sean KASSEBAUM-HINTON, age 10 and Hinton’s son from a “break” in her and DUCHEY’s relationship, enters the room,
SEAN: Mom? Dad? Can I get some running shoes?
DUCHEY: Sure, son.
HINTON: Not your son. Sure, Sean. What’s up?
SEAN: I want to get in shape so that when I’m old enough I can join the Army or the Marines or something.
(HINTON and DUCHEY sit, blanching in poorly-muted horror).
HINTON: The military?
SEAN: Yes, mom. I want to serve this country. And tanks are cool!
(DUCHEY and HINTON exchange glances).
DUCHEY: Your mother and I will need to talk about it, son.
HINTON: Not your son.
SEAN: OK, Mom and Ed. (SEAN leaves the room)
HINTON: What have we done wrong?
DUCHEY: Well, according to Lt. Governor Peggy…:
DUCHEY: …nothing at all.
HINTON: But this is just so wrong. How have we failed him so?
DUCHEY: Maybe I can get him in to see a therapist…
(COLIN MANDELA DuChey, age 17, Edwin’s son from an earlier relationship, walks into the room)
COLIN MANDELA: Hey, I need the keys to the car and some money for liquor; Terry’s older brother is buying. We’re going to LaCrosse to hit on biker chicks.
DUCHEY: I hear you and believe you. (Digs keys and a couple of hundreds from the fanny pack).
COLIN MANDELA: (Grabs the money). No, stupid. Not the Prius. That’s gay. I want the Jeep.
(HINTON digs keys from purse).
COLIN MANDELA: Later, b*t*hes.
HINTON: It’s part of being a good parent.
DUCHEY: The Lieutenant Governor says so.
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This woman, like most DemoCommie womyn, is just an idiot. She’s rightfully being slammed and trolled for it.
At six, I wanted to be a cowboy, By the time, I could become one on my own, it was too late. I blame my parents.
When I told them what I wanted, they just smiled. Then I got so mad, I kicked and screamed. Their reaction was a spanking and no supper.
And some people call them, The Greatest Generation.
Highly implausible. All four were aborted.