By Marty Russell
Brains! We need brains!” the Mad Doctor screamed. “Are you mad?” said his female assistant, Eyegear, who looked a lot like Sarah Palin with a hump.
“Of course I’m mad, says so right here on my diploma from the Karl Rove School of Scaring Folks. See, ‘certified mad spin doctor.’ I learned from the best.”
“Well, brains are the last thing we need right now with our greatest experiment on the slab and almost complete. We’ve just spent the last several months and tons of money zombifying the entire population with our diabolical mind control program so they’ll be ready when our experiment is complete.”
“You mean those things that look like campaign advertising but which really suck the will to live as well as all critical thinking abilities from anyone who sees them?”
“Exactly. That programming was extremely expensive. We wouldn’t have been able to afford it without the help of the Chamber of Horrors, I mean Commerce. We can’t afford to waste this opportunity and have the population suddenly come to their senses now that we’re so close to seeing our experiment completed.”
“I don’t think there’s much chance of that, especially with that special brew you concocted to turn a large portion of the population into drooling, angry automatons ready to pounce on anyone we point out as different from us.”
“Yes, my special tea is my specialty. I got the recipe from a witch up north. But I’m still worried, Doctor. What if those do-gooders get their program working and start stimulating people’s brains as well as the economy? What if people wake up one morning and realize they actually have health insurance? What if the wars, gasp, actually end? What if something happens to Rush Limbaugh or, worse, Nancy Pelosi? We’d have nothing left to scare them with.”
“Now, now,” said the MD. “What are the chances of that happening? We unleashed this chaos on the world and yet the peasants are stumbling over each other in their rush to serve us. It’s like taking candy from a trick-or-treater. Besides, I still have a secret weapon up my sleeve.”
“What is it, Doctor?”
“My greatest invention for ensuring that we regain control and put down this insurgency so we can return to a life of power, domination and ruthless negativism, not to mention a lot of great perks.”
The Doctor rips back a curtain to reveal a small, booth-like device with ominous-looking controls.
“What is it, Doctor?” Eyegear asks. “An atomic demolecularizer? A cosmic ray cannon? “A Glenn Beck cloning device?”
“Even better,” the Doctor cackles in his best mad scientist laugh. “It’s a voting booth.”
Marty Russell writes a Wednesday column for the Daily Journal. He can be reached at 222 Farley Hall, University MS 38677 or by e-mail at email@example.com.