While on my way to my local gun and passport boutique in Plano last week, I noticed a strange sign reading, “Closed until further notice. Thanks Obama.”
Not quite sure of what to make of this, I quickly gathered up my belongings and headed to a local memorial for the Spanish-American War, because seeing historical monuments about fake wars gives me a certain thrill.
I was quickly brushed aside upon my arrival by what appeared to be a half-man half-car who kept screaming, “Get out of my way, hippie! We’re protesting!”
I asked why, but the object, I later found out to be a senior citizen, sped away and ran over a guard who took to blocking the entrance.
At about this time, I worked up the courage to find out what on earth was going on, to which a portly man in a fedora with a neckbeard second only to my own said, “Government’s shut down. We’re finally free from the tyranny of democracy.”
After hearing this wonderful declaration of liberty, I became enraged with the glory of my forefathers. I went back to the gun depository and threw a history book through the glass, signifying my metaphorical outrage at the system, and took three M4 Rifles with me.
Then I proceeded to go to a doctor’s office and get my tri-annual physical, all the while holding my new weapon, named Betsy, steady and ready to fire at any given notice. As I assumed, I was as clean as a whistle, despite my high blood pressure, battle scars and glass-shattering related injuries from early in the day.
I hastily rushed out of the office without paying, thanks Obama indeed, and stole a car and several gallons of gas. How I got the gas I’m still unsure, but off I was to Washington, D.C. to claim the new throne as king of America, because I deserve it.
This was obviously a huge risk for my life, considering I knew my hardest task would be to somehow dethrone John Boehner and his trusty sidekick Michele Bachmann.
The two had taken up residence in the Capitol since last week and had created some type of pillow fort using the Speaker’s chair and Harry Reid’s toupee as buffer.
Having paid attention at just the right time in high school government class, I knew the one way to take both of them down was by using the power of the constitution to my advantage.
With the will of a champion and that historic document, I regained my Xeroxing and paper airplane crafting abilities and rained death from above with thousands of projectile freedom fighters as I took to calling them.
Eventually, the landmark was mine and the two representatives lay defeated in a sea of folded leaflets and the Bill of Rights. I was the champion of America, and everyone was totally cool with how I was, with my emphasis on education and foreign policy.
That’s about the time I woke up and realized nothing’s changed.
Costa is a senior majoring in journalism.