Johnny and Margie Meet Auntie Sam
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"Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive."
-- C. S. Lewis


Once upon a time, a cabinetmaker named Peter Wright lived in a modest house by the edge of a forest, with his wife, Vanna Tristesse, and his two children by his first marriage. The children were named Johnny and Margie.

The once prosperous family had been hit hard by the recession: precision millworking was outsourced to China while an influx of immigrants had depressed wages in the construction industry. Peter had been out of work for months, his unemployment insurance was gone, and his wife made no secret of her contempt for the fact that he was no longer the primary breadwinner of the family.

"Yuck," said Johnny one morning at breakfast. "These English muffins taste like sawdust."

"They are not 'English' muffins," Vanna snapped. "They are multicultural muffins: fat-free, organic, high-fiber muffins, made from a diverse variety of sustainable, eco-friendly, non-eurocentric whole-grains. And we can barely afford them -- now that your father isn't contributing financially to this household."

"Daadd! Can't I just have cornflakes?" Johnny whined.

Peter and Vanna exchanged glances. "They're your children," she said. "If you want to let them grow up to be irresponsible losers ... like you, it's not my problem." She turned to the children. "There is a basket of tribute on the counter that I want you to deliver to Aunt Samantha this morning -- and don't you dare forget."

"I don't like Aunt Samantha," said Margie. "She's too bossy. Why do we have to pay her tribute?"

"Because Auntie Sam gives us everything," Vanna replied. "She pays for your education, for our medical care, for retirement, she keeps us safe, and she even tells what to eat so we can stay healthy."

"Healthy?" said Johnny. "If she's really an expert on nutrition, why is she such a fat-ass herself? She ought to practice what she preaches."

"Don't you dare be disrespectful, young man. Sometimes I think you're even worse than your father." She grabbed her briefcase and stormed out the door.

*

Reluctantly, the children picked up the basket and trudged through the arid forest. They gasped in disbelief when they arrived at Auntie Sam's house - a luxuriant oasis of green and gold.

"It's like the Emerald City of Oz," whispered Marge.

"Not quite," said her brother. "That's not the right shade of green to be emeralds; it's more like the color of money. But the gold sure looks real."

Auntie Sam was smiling when she opened the door, but both children could sense the coldness beneath the surface, and they shivered involuntarily. "Come in, my darlings," she said.

"Our stepmother sent this basket of tribute," said Marge.

"I know, darling," the woman replied. "Just set it on the counter with all the others. And I have a special present for you two," she added, handing each of them a new toothbrush.

"Gee ... ummm, thanks," said Johnny. "What's the occasion?"

"I've launched a new program of free universal dental care for everybody in the whole world - with no co-pays, no deductibles, and no out-of-pocket expenses."

"Wow," said Johnny. "But that sounds expensive. Who's going to pay for it?"

"It won't cost you anything; I'm just going to raise taxes on the rich folks."

"I don't believe you," said Johnny. "There aren't enough rich folks to pay for something like that."

The old lady's eyes narrowed. "You are a clever lad, aren't you," she said coldly. "Too clever for your own good. But I'll let you in on a secret. I've also decided to re-classify sugar as a Schedule-1 controlled substance."

"But that's ridiculous! Sugar is a naturally-occurring compound. Nobody could obey a law like that."

"Exactly!" she cackled, rubbing her hands together. "I will 'create a whole nation of lawbreakers and then cash in on their guilt.' That's how the system works, Sonny. With the money from fines and civil asset forfeiture, I can fund every imaginable social welfare system for the betterment of humankind."

"We had better be going," said Johnny, taking his sister's hand, and backing towards the door.

"Not so fast," said Auntie Sam. "I've prepared a healthy nutritious lunch for each of you before you go. Carrots, celery, natural camel's milk yogurt and a big piece of broccoli."

"We're not hungry," said Johnny.

"I don't care," she replied icily. "You will eat or you won't ever leave."

"Okay, we'll eat it," said Margie. "But we won't like it - especially the broccoli."

Auntie Sam became hysterical, and even her appearance started to change. "Just eating it isn't good enough. Do you understand me, you brat? You must love Big Broccoli, or else." The room was becoming unbearably cold and the children began to shiver as Auntie Sam transformed into some sort of monster.

"She's turning into a fire-breathing dragon," said Johnny.

"Not fire -- ice," said Margie and began to scream.

The children tried to fend her off by throwing the tribute baskets at her, but their hands were becoming numb. At that moment, their father suddenly burst through the door, gun in hand, and pumped twelve rounds of .357 hollow-point into the monster which turned into a bubble of shimmering liquid. As they stared in amazement, the puddle climbed up the walls of the room and disappeared.

"How could liquid flow uphill like that?" asked Johnny.

"Superfluid helium," said Mr. Wright. "The coldest thing there is. Let's go home; it's just pure dumb luck that I happened to be close by and heard you screaming."

As they left, Johnny picked up a large handful of gold. "Can't we take some, Dad? I think we've earned it."

"You can take all you want; it's worthless."

"Huh?"

"Here," said his father. He took some of the crystals and hit them with a rock. They immediately turned into a dull brown powder. "It's just fool's gold."

"So you mean Auntie Sam didn't actually have any wealth?" asked Margie.

"Not a dime - except for what she took from others," replied Mr. Wright.

*

As the weary trio approached their house, they were almost forced off the road by a speeding BMW. "Hey!" said Margie. "I know that car; it belongs to Vanna's Zumba coach. I wonder what he's doing way out here.

"I don't know and I don't care," her father replied.

When they got to their front porch, there was a hand-written note taped to the screen-door. "Look," said Johnny, "it's in Vanna's handwriting, and it's addressed to you, Dad."

Mr. Wright opened the note and read it aloud:

"Peter: I can't stand it anymore. I need my own space, and I'm going to search for the happiness that I deserve. Sincerely, Vanna T. P.S. My lawyer will be in touch with you."

"What are you going to do, Dad?" asked Margie.

"Nothing. Let's eat."

Johnny opened the refrigerator. "There's nothing here but Arugula, tofu, and a little hummus," he said.

"I'll send out for pizza," his father replied.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End
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"John L. Scot" is a pseudonym. In real life, the author is a semi-retired scientist, who lives deep in the heart of flyover country with his wife and two youngest children (ages 18 and 6).

Review by uberetalis
Jul 14 2014
 
1 of 1 liked this
Well Done
Please write another story. We need to kick start the site with more humor.