Monday, October 15, 2018

Jeff Flake and Susan Collins Go to Dinner

Waiter to Susan Collins: What can I get for you?

Susan Collins: Nothing too spicy, but nothing too bland. Not sure yet.

Waiter to Jeff Flake: Are you ready to order sir?

Jeff Flake: I don’t need a menu, I’ll have the alfredo.

Two women behind Flake begin chanting.

Two women: Jeff Flake he’s the best, he would never order without seeing the rest.

Jeff Flake: Perhaps you’re right. I will look at a menu.

The women begin swaying in unison and singing.

Two women: Jeff Flake we love you, oh yes we do . . .

Jeff Flake, eyes misting: This is such an important decision. I don’t want to be locked in a room and forced into anything. I’d like to bring my wife down to the restaurant and get her input.

Waiter: What?

Susan Collins: Hmmm, such a difficult decision. I’m going to call Chuck Grassley for advice.

Collins gets out her cell phone.

Susan Collins: Chuck?

Chuck Grassley: Can’t talk now Susie Q. Just told a democrat to piss off and it gave me a hard-on. First one since ‘06! Taking advantage and jerkin’ it as we speak.

Susan Collins: Jerkin’ it?

Chuck Grassley: You know what I mean; you’ve been doing it to Maine for years. Ohhhhh Louie CK! Damn that felt good.

Susan Collins: Well, he was no help.

Waiter: I just need a dinner selection . . .

Susan Collins: I need time to study this menu. It’s so voluminous it’s like being assaulted. And this separate list of specials keeps staring at me.

Jeff Flake: My wife is here.

Waiter: Why don’t you just have the salmon? It was Mr. Weinstein’s favorite.

Jeff Flake to his wife: Honey, could you please investigate the dinner choices? Take your time.

Two women: Jeff Flake, he’s our man, he listens to women . . . sort of

Flake’s wife: I’m doing this against my will. I’ll be back in five minutes.

Jeff Flake: That’s fine, but if the beef looks fraudulent in any way, I don’t want it.

Susan Collins to waiter: What do you think?

Waiter: I wish you two weren’t my customers.

Susan Collins: Do they massage, braise, bruise, touch or lick the chicken breast before cooking it?

Waiter: Why would they . . .

Jeff Flake: Oh good. My wife is back.

Two women: Jeff Flake . . . we thought he’d do the right thing

Flake’s wife: Get the Cobb salad.

Jeff Flake: Did you check out the kitchen?

Flake’s wife: No.

Jeff Flake: Did you sample any of the food?

Flake’s wife: No.

Jeff Flake: Did you speak to the chef?

Flake’s wife: No.

Jeff Flake: Good enough for me. Waiter, I’ll have the Cobb salad. I feel drunk with power right now.

Flake’s wife: I feel used. I’m going home.

Two women: Jeff Flake, he was our man, until he let us down . . . again

Waiter: One Cobb salad. And for the lady?

Susan Collins: This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had.

Waiter: It’s dinner.

Susan Collins: The chicken would be the intelligent and respectable choice. But the T-bone steak just keeps yelling at me. It makes me feel dirty.

Waiter: So, the steak then?

Susan Collins: I’m leaning that way but . . .

Mitch McConnell walks by . . .

Mitch McConnell: Get the ghost pepper chili Suze, it’ll put hair on your chest.

Susan Collins: I don’t know.

Susan’s seat is surrounded by Lindsey Graham, Orrin Hatch, John Cornyn and Joe Manchin

Lindsey Graham: Get the chili Susie, it’s good for you.

John Cornyn: Get her a bowel of the chili.

Orrin Hatch: It’s what she wants, and she knows it.

Mitch McConnell:  Even Manchin ordered it and he’s a liberal.

Susan Collins: All right, I’ll take the chili.

Lindsey Graham: That a girl.

Mitch McConnell: Come on boys, let’s get some beer.

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