You Want Soup or Congress?
(A secret cave 20 floors below Mount Rushmore. A massively inebriated super-hero falls down the stairs and staggers to the table.)
THE SULK: How do I get a drink around here.
GB: Order. The second meeting of the Super Congress of the United States will now come to order.
THE SULK: Yeah, big freaking deal.
GB: Order. Our task is to cut the budget deficit by $1.5 trillion and we are going to do it, or my name isn’t the Green Banterer.
WM: I want to eat. When do we eat?
GB: Shut up, Wider Man. We have more important things to do. Stupor Man will now read the minutes of the last meeting.
STUPOR MAN: If that was the last meeting, why are we having another one?
GB: It wasn’t the last meeting, it was the last meeting.
STUPOR MAN: Oh, okay.
GB: The minutes. Read the minutes.
STUPOR MAN: I don’t know what that means.
GB: Just call the roll.
WM: Can we get a pizza delivered here?
GB: No. This is a secret location, damn it.
STUPOR MAN: Calling the roll. The Slash.
THE SULK: He’s not here.
STUPOR MAN: Private America.
THE SULK: She’s not here.
BW (Entering): Wait, by Zeus. Hold the phone. Great Hera, don’t call my name. Who knew the meeting was at Mount Rushmore? I thought we said Starbucks.
GB: That is incorrect, Blunder Woman. We never said Starbucks.
BW: Well we should have. You have to be pissing Athena to get a latte around here.
GB: Please finish the Roll.
STUPOR MAN: There’s only one more name. Cue the music.
(Batman music comes on. A dark figure sweeps in.)
CB: Holy Quorum, you people look ugly. Extreme Republican Makeover wouldn’t be enough for you guys.
STUPOR MAN: It’s him. The Caped Berator.
GB: Sit down, CB. You’re still late.
CAPED BERATOR: And you’re still a socialist.
GB: The meeting will come to order.
THE SULK: What’s the point.
GB: The floor is now open to statesmanlike, intelligent, rigorously researched proposals for cutting the deficit.
(No response.)
GB: Alright, then give me whatever you got.
CAPED BERATOR: We threaten all foreign countries with nuclear annihilation unless they return every dollar of foreign aid they’ve received from the United States since 1776.
GB : Good!
BLUNDER WOMAN: Raise the cost of a postage stamp to 50 dollars.
GB: Excellent.
CAPED BERATOR: Raise the Medicare eligibility age to 95.
GB: First rate.
WIDER MAN: A tax cut for any woman who will go out with me.
GB: How will that cut the deficit?
WIDER MAN: It won’t. I’m just saying.
GB: We’re supposed to be coming up with new ways to…..
WIDER MAN: Alright, alright. Raise the taxes of all women who refuse to go out with me.
GB: Now you’re talking.
(The phone rings.)
BLUNDER WOMAN: Great Hera, that could be for me. I had the Sprint store on Mount Olympus redirect all my calls.
(GB picks up the phone.)
GB: Super Congress. You dismay, we delay.. Uhuh…..Uhuh…..Yes sir. Well, if that’s the way it is.
(He hangs up.)
THE SULK: That doesn’t sound good.
GB: That was the Speaker. They’re cutting off our funding in two weeks because we’re spending too much to rent this place and we haven’t saved the government any money.
STUPOR MAN: Well there’s a kryptonite stone up my rear. What do we do now?
GB: There’s only one thing we can do. Lower taxes on rich people. That way the deficit will go up even more and Congress will get even more desperate and they’ll extend our contract.
BLUNDER WOMAN: By the Gods, Green Banterer. You’ve done it again!
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