I couldn't believe my eyes when I walked up the stairs at the House this morning and went into my office for a nap. Charlie Rangel? What the hell was he doing there? The same son of a bitch who called me a son of a bitch looking at fabric swatches while getting crumbs from his Egg McMuffin all over my nice clean desk. The S.O.B. didn't even have his shoes on, and the odor of old man feet nearly brought me to my knees.
"What's your game, Charlie Rangel," I growled, making sure to give him a good view of my incisors. Of all the damn days to not be packing heat.
"It's no game, Dick," he chuckled in that irritating 'good guy' laugh that he like to affect. And what's that dick doing calling me Dick? It's Mr Cheney to low-lifes likes Charlie Rangel. "It's all about your office, Dick." Did Charlie Rangel just call me Dick again? That son of a bitch.
He wouldn't shut up. "I like this office, it's... what's the word I'm looking for?"
"Spacious," I spat.
"Yeah, spacious. That's it. And wow, take a look at this view," he babbled on, while taking a look at the view. My view. My office. And could he really be drinking my scotch?
"Listen up, Charlie Rangel, and listen up good," I say, my voice pealing out like liquid thunder. "This is my office and nobody else has a key, you son of a bitch lock-picker. I'm calling the Capitol Police."
That should have put the fear of God in him, but no, Charlie Rangel just smiles wickedly and bites into that disgusting lump of McShit they call hash browns. Hash browns, my ass. There's only one lump of food and it no more resembles fried potatoes than Charlie Rangel resembles a respectable human being.
"Two keys, Dick. One for you, and one for the Chairman of the Ways and Means Committee. And this just happens to be our room, even though I'm sure Denny was perfectly happy to let you use it for the past few years. C'est la vie. Wah wah wah." That son of a bitch knows how much I hate it when someone makes the trombone sound.
I leave before my heart explodes, left with only one conclusion. Charlie Rangel is trying to get my goat.
©2006, Mark Hoback