I sent this telegraph to my associate in Columbia and business partner in my Political/Marketing/Bar business...
Coulter, old soul,
My god... so The Teacher thinks he can throw on some facial hair talk with a Southern accent and suddenly he is JAMES-fuckin'-CARVILL.Well, sonny, I ain't got time for losses in this fight and this Williams cat looks like a loose cannon. Maybe we need to step in earlier than I had anticipated. Load up the car and let's head down to McCain-country and get on board with this awful election process. We need to prove to America we have the cajones to turn this race for Arizona Superintendent of Public Instruction into a referendum on Capitalism.Yeah, that's that ticket.
We'll really get those brush-headed commies running for the hills when we come screaming into the city with a live deer tied to the front of our Cadillac shooting fireworks at any johnny lawman that tries to slow us down."USA USA USA!" is what they will be chanting as we screech to a halt in from of his campaign headquarters and start giving orders like some Goddamned general jumping off his steed and screaming for his whores.Yes, Mr. Jones, it's time for our plan to kick into high gear and win back America or slash and burn it to the ground trying ... are you in? I'll be at the Greyhound Station at noon tomorrow. I know you know where that is.
Just be on time for once.
That's the stuff.