"To Whom it May Concern: Day 8 of our captivity. Rations are low … so is ink and paper. They’ve printed enough copies of their demands to kill an entire forest of a Mayan Colony in Central America. This my final note, is written in potato chip grease but it too is running low as I licked the bag for the last crumb. The leaders (whoever they may be) said their demands will be met today or else … if only I had a dime each time I heard that one. We all came here as leaders but none of us have enough followers to stage a coup … but I’m working on it. The caucus chairwoman appears to be their spokeswoman but she’s banged her gavel so much it’s in splinters and she’s almost hoarse. We're told we will be "brought in" (reconvene according to them) to say our peice but it's all lies. They keep moving the appointed time. 11 AM. No! 12:30 PM. Just kidding 2:00 O'clock. And by 8 PM people are in tears. The gentleman from Hershey says he has no more candy but I know he went home last night. So I don’t believe him. He’s like my great Aunt Ida in Buffalo, she always had candy, then one day she said she didn’t but I was free to look and there it was at the bottom of her purse an unwrapped chocolate bar, once you wiped the lint off of it you could read the brand. Ex.Lax, a little piece of heaven … candy for adults, as I knew it to be. I was old enough, and garsh darn it I was man enough. Something inside me changed that day. I was a little less trusting of the world. Much like I am now. They try to break us down but it is in vain because the other hostages are so much more strong (head strong that is). Me I’m willing to comprise but I found out that’s a dirty word in these parts. So I close my eyes and sing in my head that great tune of Bocephus “A Country Boy Can Survive” … “I can skin a buck, I can run a trout line” … I think to myself, I CAN DO THAT! I can skin a buck but I don’t know what a trout line is … the acid drainage from the ole coal mines near my hometown killed all our trout. “My grandfather taught me how to live off the land” HE DID! I’m telling you I’m not lying. “I got me a friend in New York City” … I do, I got me a friend in New York City! A country boy can survive! I was singing “I Will Survive” by the one and only Gloria Gaynor but I found myself singing out loud … then suddenly the gentleman (whose name we do not speak), overheard me and I got scared, I mean really really scared. So I started signing that great hymn "Love Lifted Me" soon a majority of the others joined in and we drowned them out AND just when it was about to turn into an episode of Glee we were silenced but late breaking negotiations. I hear things are just as bad across the Rotunda. I’m told my good friendDaylin Leach led a TP raid on the headquarters (corner of Maclay and Front) … but once the first fellow was tasered they all retreated. But I was impressed because most stayed behind in their private cafeteria. The stench is overwhelming, I must go. Tell my mother I love her.
Now this is some funny stuff from the Honorable Michael Fleck on the Pennsylvania budget, which is due to pass by midnight tonight..
