Varoom! Putt! Putt! Putt! Varoom! Putt! Putt! Varoom! Varoom!

“What is that?”

“What does it look like? It’s a bus.”

“I know that, but where is it going?”

“If you must know, it is going nowhere.”

“But why is it going nowhere?”

“Because there are a lot of people in righteous indignation over the election and inauguration of Donald Trump and they claim they want to leave the country. But we all know that they are just blowing smoke. Life is too good here. So, I am just going to drive them around awhile until they cool off.”

“How long will that be?”

“Hard to say. Possibly as long as it takes Meryl Streep to figure out that nobody gives a rip about her opinions. That could be a while.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m thinking about driving them down to Lake Seminole around Iron City and tell them they are on the French Riviera. I doubt they will know the difference.”

“That sounds like a good idea, but I don’t think the locals will care much for it. By the way, why is that group over there throwing rocks at the bus and trying to burn it?”

“You don’t around much, do you? Those are professional demonstrators. This is what they do. It gives their lives meaning. They figure malicious and unconscionable behavior will win them the sympathies of the American public, who will then rush out and torch the family sedan. That won’t happen, of course, but it does give the national news media something to focus on instead of having to explain to us why their approval rating is below that of housefly larvae. But, don’t worry about the protesters. They won’t be here long. They have a couple of liquor store lootings scheduled for later this afternoon.”

 “And the group over there hitting themselves in the head with hammers?”

“More protesters. They know it is a useless exercise but they feel so good when they quit.”

“Makes sense to me. By the way, who will be on the bus?”

“Not sure. Probably a bunch of has-been actors we’ve all forgotten about and maybe the Dixie Chicks, if they are still around. Oh, and that ingrate from San Francisco that wears a plastic bucket on his head and made $11 million this year while winning one football game and losing 14. I think his teammates chipped in and bought a ticket for him.”

“That’s not many people wanting to leave the United States, is it?”

“Not really. The truth is that they would really rather stay here and block up streets and mug for the television cameras and lose public support. I had suggested to those who are so unhappy with how things have turned out here to head for Mexico, but doggone if they don’t have some pretty tough laws about illegal immigrants down there. I have even heard a rumor that Mexico may build a wall to keep Americans out. If they don’t, they fear we will come down there and take all their jobs and make them speak English.”

“I can see where that could happen. Any place else the protesters would consider moving?”

“There really aren’t a lot of options out there for them, unfortunately. They can’t go to France because the French are busy trying to get rid of a bunch of immigrants who are already there. If they go to the Middle East and try marching around and chanting slogans, they are liable to get themselves in some serious doo-doo, if you know what I mean. Most of the countries in the area aren’t keen on public demonstrations. And Africa? Forget it. Too hot in the summer.”

“I guess that means we are stuck with them, doesn’t it?”

“I’m afraid that is about the size of it. But it’s not all bad news.”

“It’s not?”

“Listen, if you can invest in a company that manufactures hammers, you should be able to make a lot of money. I predict there is going to be a run on hammers for the foreseeable future because these protesters are going to continue to knock themselves silly.”

“That’s good advice. It has been very nice talking to you. Please tell the protesters to have a nice trip to nowhere. Oh, by the way, don’t look now but I think your bus is on fire.”

You can reach Dick Yarbrough at yarb2400@bellsouth.net; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, Georgia 31139; online at dickyarbrough.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dickyarb.