Burgundy Campaign in St. Louis

  Agent 54 here again.  Well, Ron Burgundy has conceded the race to President Elect Donald Trump.  It was a great race for Ron.  Let's take a look back at the fun we had on the campaign trail. 

  Today we spied on the Ron Burgundy Presidential Campaign as they attended the National Junk Convention at the America’s Center in St. Louis Missouri.  Here’s my report:

  Candidate Ron Burgundy has spoken and the crowd loved his speech and his hair which was a work of art.  The  Campaign bus is parked in front of the Center and volunteers Maureen, John (who looks great in a straw hat and a St. Louis Cardinals jersey) Joe and Tim passing out Burgundy campaign fliers and buttons.  Candidate Ron Burgundy walks out of the America’s Center with Campaign Chairman The Only Wendy Shade and Finance Director/Spiritual Advisor Howard by his side along with a few potential Burgundy voters.  We pick up the conversation as they walk to the bus.

Ron:   ….and that’ why I want no child left behind without milk.

Elder Potential Voter:  What if they’re lactose intolerant?

Ron:  In my vision for America there will be no tolerance for the intolerant.

Elder Potential Voter:  What?  (Campaign Chairman The Only Wendy Shade pulls the elder potential voter aside and tries to quietly explain what Ron meant [whatever that was]).

Ron:  Wow wee, I sure am getting hungry.  Guess it’s time to head to the bus and chow down before we set off for Topeka.

Finance Director/Spiritual Advisor Howard:  Ron, we’re heading for Kansas City next.

Ron:  Right! I can’t wait to be back in Mississippi.

Howard:  Uh, okay.

An older gentleman in a gray pinstripe suit with a neat black bow tie waddles up to Ron and the others as they reach the campaign bus.

Fred Sanford:  (calling out) Mr. Burgundy, Mr. Burgundy I got to talk to you, hold on, Mr. Burgundy.

Ron:  Yes, what is it citizen, wait!  I saw you inside.  You were up front for my speech but, you didn’t clap.

Fred:  I’m sorry Mr. Burgundy but, it’s my Arthor-itis  (Fred shows him his “crippled” hand)

Ron:  I see, call me Ron.  What can I do for you and your Arthor-itis?

Fred:  Well, Ron, My name is Fred G. Sanford, the G. stands for Government. I want to talk to you about junk.

Ron:  Oh, no thanks we have lots of junk on the bus.  In fact you are welcome to come on the bus and take some of our junk.

Fred:  No, no sir what I mean is that when you’re President of the United States of America, you’re going to need someone with a lot of experience to take care of, to organize and sell America’s junk.   I’ve been in junk all my life. I got junk in my head.  I got junk in my heart.  I got junk in my trunk.

Ron:  I see, you’re like a coinsure of junk.

Fred:  Yeah, what?  Yeah okay.  Let me get my son Lamont over here to tell you more about my El Segundo Junk Empire. (at Lamont)  Hey Dummy git over here.  I want you to meet someone.

Lamont walks over and Fred introduces him.

Fred:  Lamont this is the Next President of the USA Ron Burgundy.   Ron, this is my son Lamont.   (they shake hands)

Ron:  Nice to meet you,  Lamond.

Lamont:  It’s Lamont, hey ain’t you the dude who hangs out with smelly Pirate hookers?

Fred shoves Lamont out of the way and clutches his heart.

Fred:  (at Lamont) Get the hell out of here you big dummy.  (looking skyward) Oh Elizabeth honey, I’m comin to join ya,,,, with a campaign bus parked on top of me.

Ron:  Calm down now Fred, take it easy (campaign volunteers come to Fred’s aid)

Ron:  I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said and I’d like to explore the possibilities. (to a volunteer) Maureen, would you get Fred’s contact info so we can discuss the future position of Senior Junk Adviser to the President.

Fred:  Wow! You really mean it Ron, uh I mean Mr. President!

Ron:  We’ll call you.  Holy cow, I’m hungry as hell now.  (Ron goes into the bus).

Fred:  (daydreaming) Imagine, me, Senior Junk Adviser to the President of the United States of America.

Maureen:  Sir can I get your address?

Fred:  Or maybe Secretary of Junk.

Maureen:  Sir?

Fred:  Or Junk Czar.

Maureen:  Sir?

Fred:  Or Junk Master General,  Ahhhh.

 Wow! Ron is already off to a great start recruiting America’s best talent for his cabinet.  I just hope the rest of his choices will be as good as his pick for Junk Master General.

Zombies Can’t Catch a Break

  Agent 54 here again.  I had to do a follow-up spying session on Max, one of our Zombie actor friends who happens to be “reading” for the leading man roll in a Hollywood movie.  You may remember that Max is tired of playing the traditional Zombie rolls that he has been typecast for just because he is a Zombie.  Let’s see how it goes for Max.

Scene:  A sparsely decorated office of the Director.  There’s a folding table serving as a desk with the Director, Writer and an assistant sitting in office chairs behind it and a folding chair in front of it facing the desk.  Various water bottles, papers, folders, clipboards and pictures (head shots) are scattered on the desk.  Another assistant is leaning on the wall, texting furiously on an IPhone.

Director:  Next!

Max shuffles into the room .  He’s obviously a Zombie though he’s in his best suit and has his hair neatly slicked back.  The mixed smell of Old Spice and rotting flesh follow him into the room.  Max puts his hand out to shake the Director’s hand.

Director:  (ignoring Max’s outstretched hand) Have a seat.  (looking at Max’s resume and Head shot) Max, it says here you have worked on 26 pictures.  What kind of rolls have you played?

Max:  (slowly sitting uncomfortably) Well, Uh, you know, Zombies.

Director:  I see.  You know this picture is about a man running for president.  So, you want to be the first Zombie Presidential Candidate?

Max:  Well, technically, Al Gore ran for President in 2000.

Al Gore

Director:  Oh yes, I had forgotten.  Why do you think you are leading man material? 

Max:  Well, I’m a very professional actor with a lot of experience. I’m tall and good looking, you know, for a Zombie.  I’m well-spoken and,,,

Director:  (interrupting Max and scrunching his nose) Wait! What the hell is that smell?

Writer:  Ooww, it stinks like fromunda cheese!

Assistant:  It’s the Zombie, sir!

Director:  Max is that you?

Max:  Uh, well, I tried to mask the smell with Old Spice.  Um, I’m sure it won’t affect the movie.  You can’t smell motion pictures.

Director:  Thank you Max, that will be all, NEXT!

Scene:  A dark and dirty bar in a nasty section of LA.  Max is at the bar in his suit with his Zombie buddies Allan and Brad.

Allan:  Hey, I told you so.

Brad:  Oh com’on Allan.  Give the man a break!  At least he tried to better himself.  What have you done to better yourself lately?

Allan:  I didn’t go make a fool of myself trying to get a job I had no business trying for.

Brad:  Nice! Kick your friend when he’s down.  Well, I’m proud of Max.

Max:  (starring into his Bloody Mary)  Allan’s right.  It was foolish for me to expect anything to change for us.  We’ll never be accepted.

Zombie Tommy bursts into the bar. 

Tommy:  Hey guys!  They’re casting for “Zombienado”!

Brad:  Zombienado?  What the hell is that?

Tommy:  Didn’t ya hear?  They’re making a movie that’s a blend between Zombies and Sharknado.   You get it don’t ya?  You know, we’re all doing our Zombie thing and then the Sharknado comes and the Sharks eat us.  I know, the Sharks are the heroes but, what the hell?  It’s work and they’re hiring  a hundred of us.

Max:  (sarcastically) Great.

Allan:  I’m gonna do it.  I got bills to pay.

Brad to Max:  Com’on buddy.  Let’s do it.  The work will take your mind off your troubles.

Max:  Yeah, ain’t got nothing better to do and besides, I always wanted to be fish food.

Brad:  Pull your head out of your ass and let’s get going.  I gotta get a new head shot.

The three Zombies rise and start to shuffle out of the bar.

Allan:  Yeah, here we go, payin dues again.

Max and Brad look at each other.

Max and Brad together:  Brains, brains, moan, groan.

Allan:  Damn comedians.   

What does this story tell us about the bias of the Hollywood Liberal Elite? 

Probably, not much.

Zombies are People Too.

Zombie Lunch

Burgundy Campaign in the Great North West

  Agent 54 here again.  Well, Ron Burgundy has conceded the race to President Elect Donald Trump.  It was a great race for Ron.  Let's take a look back at the fun we had on the campaign trail. 

  Today we found Ron Burgundy in Bend Oregon holding an outdoor town hall type meeting in a Home Depot parking lot near Riverbend Park.   There are a few dozen people around including the campaign volunteers who are distributing campaign materials to the voters in the crowd.   Ron is standing on a couple of wood pallets for a stage and the Campaign bus is parked behind him. We pick up Ron at the end of his opening remarks that Tim helped write.

Presidential Candidate Ron Burgundy

Ron: ….so we must secure our National borders.  Now I want to open it up to hear what you folks from Blend Oregon have to say.

The crowd:  It’s Bend!

Ron:  What’s bent?  The borders?  Yeah, some say they’re broken.

Volunteer Joe B.: whispers into Ron’s ear.

Ron:  Ah yes, I mean the beautiful town of Bend Oregon.  Let’s hear from you. Oh, I see someone has bought some fencing.  Going to secure your home’s borders, are you?

Woman with fencing in the crowd:  Yes we are and your hair is a work of art, Ron!

Ron:  Oh, well thank you darling   Anyone else got a question or statement?

A man wearing a camouflaged fishing hat, dirty wife-beater undershirt, dirty shorts and clam digger boots, pushing a brand new wheelbarrow with a new flat shovel, a bag of manganese, a bottle of Chinch bug poison and some other various lawn care products pops up in the crowd out of nowhere.

Carl Spackler:  Yeah, over heeeree!  I got something I wanna ask.

Ron:  Yes sir, you with the wheelbarrow, please tell us your name.

Carl Spackler

Carl:  It’s me, Carl Spackler over at Bushwood Country Club.  You know, assistant head greens keeper.

Ron:  Carl Spackler everyone. 

 Mild applause from the crowd.

Carl:  Yeah, I wanted to talk about how our borders get invaded from North every year and how this invasion is intruding on the freedom of freedom loving Americans everywhere.

Ron:  Uh, invasion from the North, I don’t follow you.

Carl:  Oh yeah, I’m talking about the big ones.  Yes, those big fat Canada geese fly south every year and they land on my golf course and they eat the grass and they poop all over the place until you can’t make a 3 foot putt without rolling the ball through goose poop.

Ron:  I see.  So, you want someone to stop the geese from coming here and pooping.

Carl:  That’s exactly right and I know how we can do it too.   You see we set up these electronic supersonic sound emitters all along the Northern border.  These devices make noises that only geeses can hear and it scares the crap out of the pooping gooses and they just turn and fly for home, you know, somewhere in Canada.  Problem solved.

Ron:  But, if the geese aren’t allowed to fly South as they have done naturally for millions of years, won’t they freeze and starve to death in the harsh Canadian winter? 

Queen of Canada

We don’t really want to murder millions of Canada geese, do we?

Carl:  Uh, I hadn’t thought about that.  Well, maybe the Queen of Canada can provide some goose shelters with heat for the geeses in winter.

A woman speaks up from the growing crowd.

Martha Stewart:  You know I have a lovely recipe for Glazed Christmas Goose.  I believe in America some time ago we used to eat goose often but somehow we got away from goose and turned to chicken and turkey.  I think if America could return to the good old goose eating days, that would help with the poop problem.

Ron:  Well, I doubt that Americans will actually eat enough geese to rectify this situation.

Martha:  Well, I was only trying to help and I’ll be inside the Home Depot if anyone wants some personal gardening tips from Martha Stewart.

Ron:  That’s it!

Carl:  What’s it?

Ron:  I have a brilliant idea for you.   See, you take that wheelbarrow and your shovel and you collect up all the goose poop on the greens and you fill up your dump truck with goose poop and then you take it to the area farmers and you sell it to them as fertilizer.  It’s a win-win-win situation!

Carl:  You mean, I could sell the poop?

Christmas Goose

Ron:  That’s right.  How much goose poop is on the golf course?

Carl:  Tons, I guess.

Ron:  Well, even at 10 cents a pound you could make a lot of extra cash.  And no geese get harmed in the process.

Carl:  So I could get paid for shoveling shit.  Hey!  That is a great idea.  Everyone let’s hear it for Ron Burgundy and his goose poop plan.

The crowd had grown to about 60 people by now and they applaud enthusiastically.

Carl:  (very loudly)  My man Ron Burgundy, he’s, he’s got my vote.

The applause gets louder with some hoots and whistles.

The Only Wendy Shade has been watching all this in amazement.  She approaches Ron.

Ron:  (quietly)  Wendy, what just happened?

Wendy:  (quietly)  I don’t know but, keep it up, you’re doing great!

The Burgundy Campaign is really hot now.  It’s gaining momentum like a giant ball of goose poop rolling downhill. 

Will anything slow Ron Down?

Keep looking here for your Burgundy Campaign updates right up to election day.

Groundhog Day

Burgundy Campaign Spaces Out, part II, He's baaack

  Agent 54 here again.  Well, Ron Burgundy has conceded the race to President Elect Donald Trump.  It was a great race for Ron.  Let's take a look back at the fun we had on the campaign trail. 

  I know many of Ron Burgundy’s supporters have been worried about campaign volunteer Tim.

Burgundy Campaign Spaces Out

 I can assure you through inside NSA information that he will be just fine.  Let’s catch up with the campaign at a rest stop somewhere in Nevada.

  Scene:  Everyone is off the bus and milling about the rest stop.  The bus and surrounding area have been thoroughly searched but, still no Tim.  Ron Burgundy has his arm around The Only Wendy Shade who is sobbing quietly.

Ron:  It’s going to be fine.  I’m sure he’ll walk up any moment  just like he did at the Little A'Le'Inn.

Wendy:  What if he doesn’t?  What if he’s out there all alone?

Ron:  Well, he’s a man’s man and a former Marine.  He would probably just start a fire, make a camp site out of rocks, tackle a coyote and have himself a nice barbecue until the sun came up.

A flash of green lightning appears to come from inside the campaign bus in an instant.  Ron was the only one facing the bus at the time.

Ron:  Great Green Goblins! What was that?!?

Wendy:  What?

Ron:  Didn’t you see it?  The whole bus was a glow with a magical green light.

Wendy:  Don’t mess with me Ron, I’m not in the mood.

Ron:  I’ve got to check it out.  Somebody give me a sword and a flashlight.

Wendy:  Yeah right, Tim was the only one with a flashlight.  Ron, I think it’s time to call the Highway Patrol.

Ron:  First I have to check out the bus and if I must go it alone then I must go alone. 

Wendy:  Fine! Hurry up.

Ron, using all of his stealthy skills, carefully approaches the open bus door.  Moving like an 18^th degree Ninja, he enters the bus.  Hands raised in perfect position to karate chop anything that might appear, Ron makes his way to the curtains that divide the bus.  Ron pops through the curtains in attack position.

Ron:  Ha! Tim! What the poop? Where you been man?

A groggy Tim attempts to make sense of his world and reply.

Tim:  Oh, hey Ron, what’s up boss?

Ron:  What’s up?  We’re all up all night looking for you.

Wendy heard Ron and has made her way on to the bus.  She pops through the curtains.

Wendy:  Tim!

Tim:  Hey Wendy, what’s up?

Wendy slaps Tim hard in the face.

Tim:  Well, I’m awake now.  Was that necessary?

Wendy dives on Tim and hugs him tightly as she sobs.  

Wendy:  Don’t ever do that again.

Tim:  Uh, okay uh, do what again?

Wendy gets up and heads for the front of the bus.

Ron:  Where were you man?  We looked everywhere.  You got a secret hiding spot on the bus?

Tim:  Uh, I’ve been right here since the Little A'Le'Inn.  Man, did I sleep good.

By now everyone is back on the bus.  The other volunteers have a look of bewilderment on their faces as they take their seats.

Howard:  So, Tim ole buddy, you want to tell us where you’ve been for the past hour and half?

Tim:  What’s going on here?  I took a nap like everyone else and I wake up to a bunch of nutballs asking we weird questions.  I still don’t know why Wendy slapped me.

Howard:  She slapped you because she was happy to see you.

Tim reaches over but, is restrained by his seatbelt.  He still manages to punch Howard in the arm fairly hard.

Tim:  Yeah, I’m glad to see you too.  Who’s next?

Maureen:  Come on bro, what really happened?

Tim:  I don’t know!  I got on the bus and took a nap and I slept great.  I dreamt of Bacon Cheeseburgers and Sugar Plum fairies, if you know what I mean.

Wendy pops through the curtains again and attempts to get the campaign to refocus.

Wendy:  Alright!  Everyone present and accounted for.  Driver, let’s get the hell out of this damn state.  Tim, take my laptop.  Since you were the only one who got any sleep lately you can finish Ron’s Opening Statement for the next Town Hall meeting and Don’t disappear with that computer!

Tim:  Can I use the bathroom before we get going?

Wendy:  I guess, Howard you go with him.  Make sure he doesn’t disappear again.

Howard:  Why me?

Wendy:  Just do it! The rest of you get some sleep.  We have a long day planned for tomorrow.

Tim and Howard get back from the bathroom and take their seats without anyone or anything disappearing.  The bus starts to roll.

Volunteer Joe B.:  Hey Tim, welcome back buddy.

Tim:  Yeah, uh, welcome back to you too.

Howard:  (quietly) So Tim, you really dreamt of Cheeseburgers?

Tim:  (whispering) Bacon Cheeseburgers and they were everywhere and the bacon was that apple wood smoked bacon that I love and the, heh, heh, the Sugar Plum Fairies were like the ones we saw in Las Vegas last year and,,,

Up in the front of the bus.  Ron looks at Wendy.

Wendy:  Shut up and find that bottle of Grey Goose.

Ron:  Yes Dear.

Well, it looks like the Burgundy Campaign is back on track.   Agent 54 sure is glad that nothing really happened to Tim,,, or did it?

Burgundy Campaign Spaces Out
Ancient Alien Ancestors?

Burgundy Campaign Spaces Out

  Agent 54 here again.  Well, Ron Burgundy has conceded the race to President Elect Donald Trump.  It was a great race for Ron.  Let's take a look back at the fun we had on the campaign trail. 

  I really love these weekly updates on the Burgundy Campaign.   The ups and downs of campaigning are so intriguing.  Let’s catch up with the campaign bus, rolling down the Extraterrestrial Highway towards Rachel Nevada as night approaches.  This will be fun. 

Ron Burgundy:  There it is the Little A”Le” Inn only 24 miles right up the Extraterrestrial Highway.

Howard:  Cool.

The Only Wendy Shade:  How did I let you guys talk me into this bullshit?

Ron:  It’s not bullshit my dear.  When I’m President I’m going to release all the Government information on all secret space alien stuff that’s been going on at Area 51 for so many years now.

Wendy:  Great!  I’ll come visit you at the Presidential funny farm.

Howard:  You know you don’t have to believe any of this stuff to have fun with it. It’s like Halloween.

Wendy:   Halloween for nutjobs.  Wake me when we get there.

The campaign staff is now seated inside the Little A”Le” Inn and is finishing a meal of burgers, fries and sodas or coffee in green faced space alien mugs.

Ron:  Coffee just tastes better out of a green alien’s head.

Wendy:  If you say so.

Howard:  Hey guys, have you seen Tim? 

Wendy:  No, not for a while.  I asked everyone to stick together so we could get back on the road on time.

Ron:  You know how his IBS is.  He’s probably in the men’s room. 

Wendy:  Howard can you go check the men’s room?

Howard:  Why me?  I mean, you know what Tim can do to an enclosed space.

Wendy:  Fine! I’ll do it!

Howard:  No, no I got it.  Just give me one of those space alien car air fresheners to take with me.

Howard comes back from the men’s room apparently unharmed.

Howard:  No Tim.  Just a huge biker dude who was almost as bad.

Wendy: (to the whole group)  Everyone outside to look for Tim.  Howard you check the bus.

The campaign staff are all outside in the night calling for Tim.  There is a strange small light dancing about the clouds for a short time and then it disappears.

Ron:  What was that?

Howard:  What was what?

Ron:  That light in the sky?  Didn’t you see it, man.

Wendy:  Ron, this is no time to be seeing weird stuff.  Just find,,,

Tim:  Hey Wendy, we ready to go?

Wendy:  Tim! Where the hell have you been?

Tim:  Just back down there in the crevasse back a bit.  You know I have IBS problems and the bathroom was full and the bus was locked so,,,

Ron:  I saw lights in the sky.

Tim:  Yeah, I have my tactical flashlight.  You know there are bats out there. You can see them with the flashlight.

Wendy:  Bats! Everybody on the bus! I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.  Tim! You can’t wander off like that.

Tim:  Yes dear.

Wendy:  I’ll yes dear ya. (she smacks him upside the head with a menu from the Little A”Le” Inn as he boards the bus.)

An hour down the road Ron wakes up in his seat with a moderate amount of drool running down the side of his mouth.  Wendy is in her seat across the aisle working on her laptop computer.

Wendy:  Have a nice nap there sleeping beauty?

Ron:   Huh, dokgfth, uh, yeah, fine.  What ya working on?

Wendy:  Oh, it’s your opening remarks for your next town hall meeting and I’m kinda stuck on this one part.  You know, Tim’s a pretty good writer, go back there and wake him up.  Why am I the only one working this time of night.  Go get him for me.

Ron:  Yes dear.

Wendy:  Knock it off.

Ron goes back through the curtains to where volunteers Maureen, John, Howard and Joe are all asleep in their seats.  No Tim.  Ron goes to the back of the bus and knocks on the door of the restroom there. 

Ron:  Tim, you in there?  (knocking) Tim!

Ron opens the door but, nobody is in the restroom. 

Ron:  (shouting)  Tim!

Wendy charges through the curtains.  Everyone is awake now.

Wendy:  Ron, where’s Tim?

Ron:  I do not know.  (to the volunteers) Hey you guys, where’s Tim?

Maureen:  We don’t know. We were sleeping.  He was in his seat last I saw him.

Howard:  Look! His seatbelt is still buckled.

Wendy:  Look Tim, you better not be pulling something on me or I’m gonna kick your butt.

Everyone is searching the bus but, no Tim.

Wendy (to Ron) This isn’t funny anymore.  I’ve never lost anyone on a campaign before.

Ron:  It will be okay.  I’m sure there is a logical explanation.  I don’t know what it is but, I’m sure it’s there.  Maybe he ran off with that biker chick we saw at the Little A”Le” Inn. 

Wendy:  No way.  He would have had to walk by my seat and we haven’t stopped.  I’m getting worried.  We have to stop and call the highway patrol.

Ron:  Calm down now.  Let’s stop at the next rest area and figure this thing out.  Driver, next rest area please.

To be continued………

He's Baaaack!
Ancient Alien Ancestors?