UnNews:Mobster enters weak GOP field

From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia

Jump to: navigation, search
This article is part of UnNews UnNews Logo Potato1 A newsstand that's brimming with issues

23 May 2011

Crimean1
An artist's rendition of the candidate.

NEW YORK, New York - Today, amongst a crowd of reporters, hangers-on, and bodyguards, mobster Johnny No-Thumbs, full of disdain, disloyalty, and a snarkily optimism, announced his candidacy for president of the United States.

At the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel press conference, Johnny No-Thumbs (a.k.a. Johnny Be Good, Johnny Tweedle, and Hunch the Rabbit), seemingly a mid-level mafioso enforcer but nobodies talking, entered the weak Republican field by shooting off a burst of gunfire in the air and giving out stacks of hundred dollar bills to reporters.

"What goers 'round comes 'round, tells ya that. Now, youse guys know I'll be da leader of dis cuntry," No-Thumbs said, holding his coat up over his face, "hey, and youse over there gonna wanna shut down dose cameras. Now gimme a question before I get bored up here."

"Johnny, aren't you ripping the mask off the behind-the-scenes mafia/banking industry control of the American, European, and Russian governments," asked CNN's Anderson Cooper, himself a low-level captain in the Murdoch family, "I mean, Johnny, did you get permission from the boys to make this move?"

"Don't tell me about no permission, pretty boy," said Prez Johnny (as the bigs from the networks call him behind his back, but he knows about it) while grabbing Cooper by the throat. "And of course anybody dats anybodies needs to know knows! We've decided, after handicapping da Republican field and finding it as weak as Obama's cock, to cut out da middlemen dis time round the merry-go-round, capice? We figured the public is so stupid, like a baby or some kind of marine mammal, that we don't even have to put up straw men nos more. Just stick one of us in the Oval, and stop the pretense."

Reporters laughed nervously, sensing that Johnny knew the correct definition of the word "pretense", and then pointed as a group to MSNBC's Rachel Maddow to ask the next question.

"Mr. No-Thumbs, hi, I'm Rachel, and I've got to admit here that I feel kind of silly saying no-thumbs when clearly you've got thumbs. Right there, I can see them. We talked about that all day back at the office. Thumbs, no-thumbs, makes a big difference in how you perceive the world. But, yeah, can you tell our viewers how, once you're elected, sir, you will address some of the century-old questions which are going to need addressing before you can steal the last outcroppings of the economy by giving everyone's pensions to the boys while, at the same time, placating the ever-stirring downtrodden masses so that they don't do you bodily harm?"

"Ahh, slap me silly Maddow," the honorable No-Thumbs said, "But you know wese fixed all dat way back in the Eisenhower era - 'I like Ike', capice?. And it's stayed fixed ever since, just more of the same. Ya get my drift, girly? Never before has so much flowed to so few, and wese da few."

"A follow-up please," Maddow said, flanked now by guys built like slabs of beef wearing suits and Panamas old enough to have starred in Rocky, "and don't take this the wrong way, man-with-no-thumbs-yet-has-thumbs, but why did they pick you? Why were you selected to run for president over everybody else in the families?"

Dog that ate arnold palmer
If elected, Mr. No-Thumbs will live in the White House with his dog, Snowflake (named after a guy he ate, Matty the Flake, a.k.a. Melt Me).

"I'm da man, that's why," No-Thumbs said, removing the coat from his face after hearing the last of the cameras smash to the ground, "Lady, ya gotta mudda and a fadda, am I right? And they think the world of their baby darling daughter, now don't dey? It's the same ting here, Inspectoress Gadget. The boys know that most of da American people will love me - dey love anybody we tells dem too - and for dose who don't I'll have da armored forces who can visit them. I'll take some flack for appearances sake, and get calls for my 'peachment a few minutes after I give my inaudible address. But after dat I've got it made in da shade. I'll take my shoes off, plop down in a decent office, and then get ta spend my days shakin' hands, posing with losers, poking around, signing tings, and whatnot. Someone's gonna do it, so dat it's me is fine. And unlike all dose other jamokes, since beggin' for it, I won't have to hide the broads. Dey can just reside in Abe's bedroom 'til I'm done with them. So when I'm livin' high on the hog in Casa Blanca dere, why don't ya come over sometime, Maddow. We'll munch Oval office carpet together."

"I'd like a deflated dollar for every time you promised a girl that," shouted Alex Jones of Infowars and Prison Planet.com. Jones, shaking off the goons and yanking the microphone away from an almost-angry looking Maddow, started bellowing like a goat. "I've got a question No-Thumbs. I'm just sick and tired and I'm shaking my fist -awwwwwwwwwwwww - at the globalist criminal elements that run the banks who dictate to the world's power elite exactly what they can and cannot do - awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww - and now you guys want other neanderthals to put their hands down my daughter's pants at airports, the cities to keep poisoning my drinking water, and the United Nations to continue to kidnap and rape lots and lots of children? - ahhhhhhhh - and you still expect every bought-and-paid-for talking head to say everything is hunkey-dory as the world falls apart and all the money flows into your buddies pockets? What do you have to say about that, No-Thumbs. We're watching you, WE'RE WATCHING YOU - AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW."

"Thank you for your insignificant insightful question, Mr. Jones. I'll answer dat by takin' the fifth and refering my lawyer and future chief-of-staff, Louie here - a.k.a. Louie Has Lips here - not ta look into that. And I've gotta question for you too, you cheap Bob Woodward-wannabe. You like your eyes? Why don't you pack up and go fishin' on that stream of yers in Wyoming, Jones, and forgetaboutit. Next question."

"What will you do when you have to fight a war in one of those towel-head Allah countries, or even go mano-de-mano against the Russkies or the Jews?" asked veteran FOX "News" actor/"reporter", Sean Hannity.

"Hey Sean, love ya, babe. How's Jill? Well, if you gotta go to the mattresses, it's like this," Prez Johnny No-Thumbs/Tweedle/Be Good/Hunch the Rabbit said, then stepped back, cleared a circle, and explained his foreign policy by shooting off forty rounds into the ceiling. "Ya gotta make it clear right off da bat. Dey don't do what ya say ta do, ya whack 'em, same as before. Sean, why dontya pencil me in for that show of yours. Have ya boys call my boys."

"Drugging and injecting children, no protests allowed, the fourth amendment destroyed by JUDGES, the water poisoned...AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Alex Jones could be heard barking in the hallway, causing No-Thumbs to smile not unlike DeNiro and bark himself, "Yeah, drugging children, muzzling da hippies, poisoning da water. Whatdaya expect, Mudda Theresa?"

"Hunch," piped up a local high-school journalist while all the other reporters started smacking their foreheads with their palms. "Hunch, hi, Larry Laxoncloper here, from Reagan High - Ronnnieee Reayyyyygun, Yay team! - and I'm wondering today just how you will give a helping hand to the environment and stuff once you win the presidency in 2012?"

Mobsters shooting
After the press conference the secret service took a few of the more inquisitive reporters aside for their x-rays and blood draw.

"Larry Laxoncloper, huh? What is that, yiddish? Dutch?" said Johnny Be Good, "and you care about all dose wildlives and such, huh. You like chipmunks and things like that do ya? Tells you what, ya come back to da room with me when we ditch these other jamokes and I'll tell ya all 'bout it."

"All right!" Larry Laxoncloper beamed, smiling at his luck at getting an exclusive while setting off another round of head slapping accompioned by not-very-loud unbelieving moans voiced by his colleagues in the press.

"I sees ya all slappin' ya foreheads. Didyaknow dats right where da chip is gonna go? Alright, next. Ya, you, in da front. An telz me ya name when I get ta you, I might have to spend eight years lookin' at ya mugs."

"Ah, yes, Anderson Cooper, CNN. I asked a question before."

"Right, right. Anderson Cooper. Sounds like coppa. You ain't a coppa are ya? Andy Coop, AC, the poopster, I got a million of 'em."

"Ah, OK. Mr. No-Thumbs, what will your administration's policy be regarding the detention camps, already built and standing idly by, ready and waiting patiently to be filled with dissidents, hippies, protesters, union members, teabaggers and tree-humpers?"

"Mr. Coop goes to Washington, that you blondie? Ya wanna open ya yap about the FEMA camps do it on yur own time. A hippie with a microphone, dats what ya think ya is Anderson? Ya ain't nuttin, Mary Poppins. Nuttin. Now blow me."

"I will do no such thing! I never!"

"I've heard differently, Anderson. Next question."

"Maria Shriver here, Oprah News Network - it's all Oprah all the time, she never lets up. My dear Mr. No-Thumbs, and I will not comment on if you have thumbs or not, the first major test of the crowded GOP field of presidential candidates, a field which includes Michele Bachmann, Ron Paul, Jon Huntsman, Tim Pawlenty, Mitt Romney, Rick Sanitariom, Herbert Cain - who's a guy that sells pizza - and Newt Gingrich, a guy who eats pizza, will be the Iowa caucuses. These will be followed closely by the New Hampshire primary. Who do you see as your biggest opposition? And about this mob thing, didn't Senator Dick Durbin say a couple of years ago that it was the banks who owned the Senate?"

"Girly," said the candidate, "whodaya think owns da banks? Tinkerbell and da holy ghost? And you wan' me to name to you my biggest opposition? Gotta be Gingrich. That geek is fatter than a walrus."

Yucks all around.

"OK, I'm outta here. O'Malley, grab my coat."

UnNews Logo Potato
This article features first-hand journalism by an UnNews correspondent.
Personal tools
projects