Franky and the Newscaster

                                          Franky and the Newscaster

          Tom was sitting on the couch with Franky on the other end.  The ten o'clock news was on and it was being ignored.  Frank was drinking what was apparently Milwaukee's Best, and Tom was eating a cheesy, crunchy substance that had a Cheetah  for a mascot.  The cheetah wore sunglasses.  All three faces were smiling.
          Frank had been talking about the tsunami victims and how he sent his two grown sons over to help out.
          "I tell ya, Tom, those missionaries have no business near those refugees.  They should show up as a human with a hammer, rather than a Christian with a Jesus badge."
        "Haha! That's so true." Tom chuckled, spitting Cheetohs.


Protesters, lobbyists and even some children, the newscaster said, gathered in Washington DC today, fighting to put down certain methods of governmental decision making.  The conclave of protesters is pushing for faster hurricane relief, but as the night rolls on, the crowd has become increasingly insipid.

        Franky was getting pretty sarcastic about government ever since what he called the 'Pandemic of Stupidity' swept  through the world.  He hated the way pointless filibustering got in the way of what was most important more often than not.
        "Tom, i gotta tell ya, we'd be better off not having a government.  We kill people for arguing with us anyway, why not just kill all who say nay and save ourselves the trouble?"
        "Good point!" Tom chuckled, spitting Cheetohs.

Spreading contempt worldwide, the news said, the organization known as FEMA stopped ships carrying supplies and volunteer laborers, and turned them away just miles from New Orleans.  The ships, coming from various Europeans countries to lend a hand, received messages from FEMA stating they had everything under control.

        "You know those levees that broke down south?" Frank continued, still ignoring the television.  "Those crackheads in the district ain't got nothin' up their sleeves to help those poor refugees and they aren't trying to help anyway!  Any protesters aren't helping either, yelling like that, they gotta show integrity, give a good example to the youngins."
        "You got that right!"  Tom chuckled, spitting Cheetohs.

        Tom turned the television off and continued listening to Franky, all the while agreeing and spitting Cheetohs.  Unknown to Franky, Tom, the Cheetah or the newscaster, Frank and the television had parallel conversations for the next half hour.  They spoke of the same events in the same manner, with the same view point at the same time.  Their wording was different.  The night rolled on, good points were made, they were so true, Franky was so right and more Cheetohs were spat.