Hear ye, hear ye! Come one, come all! Gather around for today’s main event, the much anticipated Stilt-Off between Mitt “I Betcha” Romney and John “Gasping Windbag” Kerry.
May the most stilted, out-of-touch caricature of himself win!
Mitt: John, is it? I believe we’ve both been called here because of our affable ways.
John: There’s no doubt about that. We’re both well loved, and completely self-aware.
Mitt: I couldn’t agree more. I don’t know who you are, but I concur.
John: I’m a slightly older, less wealthy, Democratic version of you.
Mitt: You’re a Dem?? Egad, Godfrey! Get over here, man! Disinfect my white gloves at once. I shook this dirty patriot’s hand! Sickening!
Godfrey: Indeed, sir. Indeed.
Mitt: Don’t mock me, Godfrey.
John: You remember me, Mitt. Let me provide a relevant hyperlink, mid-conversation. We’re being compared all over the media. Folks got all excited about my income disclosures back in aught-four, just as they’re doing now with you.
Mitt: Is your face really made that way? So weathered. So damn impossibly weathered. It’s a chiseled visage, really.
John: Concentrate, Mitt. You have to face down the Obamatron himself. Now that guy is stilted.
Mitt: I’m with you there, you oddly coiffed geezer. Say, how did you get so darn rich anyway?
John: Oh, I did it the hard way—I married into money!
[raucous laughter and old-boy high-fiving]
Mitt: I hear ya, buddy. I betcha twenty-five g’s and a gallon of beluga that I had it even harder than that: I had to earn my millions by buying companies at low prices and selling them at high prices. It involves a lot of math and golf, and I’m terrible at golf.
John: Come now, Mitt. Do you really think the average American, who works in a factory or coal mine or Victoria’s Secret, is going to think private equity guys work hard?
Mitt: Do you know hard it is to create hundreds of jobs? [aide whispers in ear] Thousands of jobs? [whispers] Billions of American jobs???
John: Not nearly as hard as listening to Theresa babble on about 57 varieties.
Mitt: You might be right there, my loose-necked friend. Virgin lime rickeys on me.