"Have you ever noticed that Mexicans look a lot like A-Rabs?" said Stumpy Al.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, they both got black hair, brown eyes, and permanent tans."
"So?" I asked.
Geez. I think we can stop this here Mexican invasion if we can convince
Americans that Mexicans are A-Rabs. Hell, the INS can't seem to find
any Mexican illegal aliens but, after September 11, they were suddenly
able to find thousands of A-Rab illegal aliens who they're now deporting."
"Okay, er..." I searched for words. "We've been mewling that Mexicans are invading the U.S. Now we'll say that the A-Rabs and Mexicans are the same. Hell, we'll call 'em Mexrabs. And, you heard of that there al Quaida, right? We'll make it sound Mexican by calling it El Quaida."
"Look Stumpy, " I said, "not all Mexicans and not all Arabs are bad or are terrorists."
"You wimp," said Stumpy. "It ain't our job to sort 'em out. They ain't got no right to come to this country. And when they do, we sit around and hug each other and talk as though we're zonked out PTA types on happy juice. This is PR stuff I'm up to here."
"So what do you want to do?" I asked.
"The best defense is a strong offense," replied Stumpy.
"And, in this context, this means exactly what?"
"Damn it. We're gonna hafta invade Mexico, that's what?"
"Yep. First we'll talk it up and link Mexicans and A-Rabs in the public mind and then we'll add Mexico to that there friggin' Axis of Evil that Dubya talked about. After that, we'll invade the friggin' place and make it part of the U.S. Screw that Aztlan crap. We ain't gonna let them invade us any more. Now it's our turn."
you aren't going to get George Bush to invade Mexico," I said.
His brother Jeb is married to a Mexican woman and has already started
transforming the Bush family into Mexicans. Remember how George the
First called Jeb's kids "those little brown ones over there"?
That's what's going on. The Mexicans are invading us and transforming
us into Mexicans. Remember those old Sci-Fi movies where space aliens
came here and took over people one by one until there were
no more of the original people left except a few who were on the run
so they wouldn't be transformed into aliens? If we invade Mexico, all
we'll be doing is sending Americans down there to be absorbed into Mexicans
even faster. It's like they're the amoeba and we're bits of food."
"Hell, we ain't gonna send no ground troops to Mexico," said Stumpy. "That ain't how America does war anymore. We're gonna send our bombers over Mexico and bomb them terrorists like we did in Afganistan. We'll stop them evil doers."
"I don't know Stumpy. That's going to be a hard sell with our present crop of politicians who'd rather pander than save America. Besides, the Mexicans are now all around us in this country and we can't bomb them here. They're also infiltrating our very homes."
Just then the doorbell rang. "Excuse me a minute, I gotta go pay my gardener, Jose."
"Hey, Stumpy," I said when he came back, "I heard you talk to that guy in Spanish. I didn't know you knew Spanish."
"Yeah, I had to pick some up. Everyone around here speaks it," said Stumpy.
I was starting to get suspicious of Stumpy. "Where are your kids?" I asked.
"Maria, the maid, took them down to the park."
"Stumpy, I noticed some guys up on your roof, what's going on?" I asked.
"Buncha guys I hired down at the Job Center to put a new roof on. They work real cheap. Now, look, let's get back on to this PR stuff about proving that the Mexicans are really A-Rabs and that they're evil."
"Stumpy, " I said, "you have a Mexican gardener, a Mexican maid, a bunch of Mexicans on your roof and you're talking about bombing Mexico?"
"Oh, these Mexicans are different. These ones want to be Americans."
"Are they illegal aliens?" I asked.
"Hell if I know. I didn't check. I think they're just people trying to make better lives for themselves.""Right," I said, as I quickly excused myself and left. It appeared that the nation snatchers had already transformed part of Stumpy's brain. There was no telling when they'd finish off the job, and I didn't want to be around when Stumpy suddenly started watching Mexican movies on TV and listening to Ranchero music.
# # #
"THE OUTSIDER" H.
Millard's novel of alienation in post-American America is available.
Get it by telephone: 1-877-823-9235, at Amazon.com
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