Reduced for Easy Consumption

Imagine someone rolling out a thunderous three-hour barrage of the most inventive, righteous, graphically unmistakable obscenities, a bombarding battery of abuse that would make Richard Pryor blush, the furious fusillade directed at a clutch of suited men of a certain age with questionable haircuts, the flappy countenances of the morally bankrupt and the air of deflating blimps, as with shaking legs and withering fiber they are reduced to their chairs, thus triggering one by one hundreds of pre-positioned whoopee cushions. Having imagined me doing that, further comment on the Republican Party will be unnecessary this week.