Cruel Maria Ends the War

"Good morning and welcome to Fox and Friends," said the blond anchorman while smiling like a used car salesman.

"This morning, we have an interview with Sylvester Stallone about his new movie, "Rambo VII: Expendable Force," plus advice for parents whose middle school children are forced to study human anatomy.

"But we start with a preview of today's vote in the Senate on ending funding for the war in the Iraq. We ask Fox military analyst Milton F. Mealey, why do the Democrats hate the troops so much?"

Forced laughter pealed through the studio set. Mealey, who looked fresh and dandy in his bow-tie and corduroy jacket, replied, "Well, what would you expect from these holdover 60s radicals who wet their pants at the first sign of danger?"

"We are into our ninth year in Iraq," said Chet the anchorman, now sounding a little anxious.

"Do you think cooler heads will prevail in the Senate and support President Jeb Bush in his war against terrorism, no matter how long it takes?"

Mealey adopted the reassuring voice of a TV father figure. "Of course, Chet. Look, the Republicans may have lost the control of the Senate, but there are still enough conservative Democrats to defeat this act of treason.

"No Republican wants to cross Senator Calhoun Farnsworth, either," Mealey said.

Farnsworth's name was spoken with an air of reverence. His picture filled the screen. His patrician face looked like the American eagle with his shock of white hair, piercing blue eyes and angular profile.

Farnsworth was formerly the chairman of the Armed Services committee but now was the skillful Republican minority leader, making sure unfavorable legislation never got to the floor for a vote.

It was a major victory that the Democrats had even managed to schedule a debate on the war, but Mealey saw the bigger picture as always.

"I think Calhoun wants to get it on record and show the American public who's tough on terrorism," Mealey said. "This should be a great day for all defenders of liberty."

Later that afternoon, the vote to withhold funding for Iraq passed by a 63-47 margin.

The usually unflappable Farnsworth broke down emotionally on the Senate floor, saying it was "long past time for our boys to come home. Today, I vote to defund the war."

Farnsworth was hailed for breaking from the past and offering a fresh voice of reason, but conservative commentators acted like they always had their suspicions.

"Look, Farnsworth was something of a closet liberal," said Mealey hours after the vote on a panel-of-pundits TV news program.

"He was once married to a Hollywood actress, after all. He drinks white wine."

A middle-of-the road commentator from public radio was incredulous.

"Huh? Are we talking about the same Farnsworth? The one who never saw a defense appropriation he didn't like? The one with the oil tanker named after him?"

Farnsworth's office was deluged with media requests for interviews, but his press officer said the senator had a prior commitment.

A sports utility vehicle with black-tinted windows whisked him out to a distant suburb of Washington, D.C. He traveled down a commercial strip filled with chicken-wing restaurants, bargain shoe shops and nail salons before turning into an apartment complex.

Farnsworth put on a pair of sunglasses, pulled his hat down to his ears, and hustled up three flights of stairs. He felt relief as soon as he walked into the apartment, grateful no press had seen him.

Farnsworth was in his sanctuary; there was comfort in routine. On the kitchen counter, the wise man of the Senate found a familiar list of chores: scrub the toilet and tub, change the kitty litter, dust the book shelves, pay some bills online and bake the lasagna.

He hung up his overcoat, slipped off his Rolex watch, stepped out of his black Italian suit and into a maid's outfit.

He had better get started with his chores. Maria was due home in a couple of hours. Farnsworth was grateful she had shown him some mercy and allowed him to wear knee pads when he scrubbed the bathroom. His ass, though, still stung from last week when he had failed to wipe the mildew under the toilet rim.

Farnsworth squealed like a little girl when Maria paddled him with her hair brush. He pleaded for forgiveness, begging her to stop.

"I will do anything, please," he gasped as he squirmed on her lap.

"Anything?" said Maria, arching an eyebrow. The dom had just returned home from an antiwar rally. Maria was about to make him turn against everything he stood for politically, but she was disgusted because she knew he would turn on principle so easily.

Whap!