Common Ground

Friday, May 02, 2008

Being a demon means you have to deal with all sorts of people, but almost every one of my clients had a very good reason for striking a bargain with Satan and selling their soul into eternal torment, so I try not to be too judgmental. Besides, when you’re #1 on Dick Cheney’s speed dial like I am, having to talk with some of the other nutjobs who wander through occasionally almost seems like a vacation.

That’s not to say that the guy I call “Sammy” is a complete nutjob- let’s just say he’s really, really REALLY intense. So when Sammy called me this morning and said he needed to talk I was more than happy to click my hooves together and re-embody myself in- well, to be safe, I’d better not say exactly where. Sammy handed me a letter that appeared to have been typed on an old Smith Corona manual typewriter.

“I’d like you to deliver that to another one of your clients,” he told me, “Sorry about the typos”.

I glanced at the letter, which was addressed to Hillary Clinton. I shrugged.

“OK, I’m going to be seeing her this weekend anyway, she needs some ‘favors’ for next week’s primaries. Can I read it?”

Sammy smiled. “I’d like you to,” he said. “Just make sure it’s ok, as you say.”

I sat down, put on my reading glasses, and read it-

Dear Mrs. Clinton,

I have just red read that you have come out in support of Candidate McCain’s proposal to do away with the 18 cent Federal Gas Tax. As you know (because all American econimists say so) even though suspending this tax will only save the average American driver about ## $25 this summer, it will also cripple much-nded needed repairs on America’s roads and bridges, and it will make Americans drive more and make them even more dependint on Middle Eastern oil. Of course, every dollar that goes to Middle Eastern oil also goes to fund terrorist groups that are killing Americans in Iraq and elsewhere. For all these reasons, I was surpriseed that you would support such a proposal simply in order to win more votes.

I stopped and looked up.

“Are you sure you want to send this?” I asked Sammy.

He nodded. “I just have to add a final sentence and sign it. You will deliver it?”

I assured him I would, so he took the letter and typed out his final sentence and signed-

Although your husband was a cockroach-eating infidel, I think you’re a real hottsie-tottsie, and you have my full support! I’m enclosing an Al Quaeda lapel in, and hope you’ll wear it proudly.

Your friend,

Osama bin Laden

I took the letter, stuffed it in my pocket, and wiped a little tear out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t help it, it’s so sweet when my clients can find common ground.