Yep. It is C.W. I came in from taking care of some family matters and found that he had assumed the exact form of Norman Rockwell and was furiously painting away at an easel.
“What the …?”
“Hey, Big Dope,” he said. “You’ve been wanting me to get a job so I have a good one. Take a look.” He pointed a t what was evidently to be a campaign poster, for Hillary Clinton of all people. “I’m going to be making ads for Hillary.” He pointed at his work. “What do you think?”
Across the top of the ad was the word “Hillary!” Under it was her face. Under that was the message he had blocked out and was finishing. It read, “Because men should not always come first.”
I blinked. Then I blinked again. “Uh, C.W.,” I said.
It took me a while to explain, as his face drooped in disappointment. Finally, he removed the poster and threw it into a corner. Picking up a finished one from a pile, he placed it on the easel. “Well,” he said, “what do you think of his one?”
It also had “Hillary” across the top in bold lettering. Under the name this time were portraits of Bill and Chelsea. Under them, the message, “Comes with a couple of nice ones,”
I stifled a laugh. This time he didn’t take the news so well. “Do you want to see more? If you do, quit laughing.”
“Oh,” I said. “More. Please, more.”
He sullenly removed the poster and replaced it with another. It had the faces of Hillary and President Obama in the middle. Above them were the words, “Choose Hillary.” Underneath the faces he had painted, “For a great climax.”
This time my knees grew weak and I had to sit as I explained. He sailed the poster across the room and glared at me. “You are being inclined to find fault or to judge with severity, often too readily,” he said.
“I’m not being critical,” I said. “I’m just being honest.” I tried to sooth him. “Let’s see your last one,” I said. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
|I only chose her to work for because I |
thought her possible opponents were limp. - C.W.
“You won’t laugh?”
“I won’t laugh.”
He reached over, picked up the final poster and placed it on the easel. It had a nice picture of Hillary saluting the American flag that fluttered atop a huge flagpole. The words above read, “Choose Hillary.” The ones below read, “And keep America erect.”
When I finally managed to quit rolling on the floor and managed to stand, C.W. was gone, as was his easel.
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Nelson watched the woman screaming and looked puzzled. Most in the courtroom believed that the prosecution had proven the man guilty. The jurors themselves had all agreed on it. Nelson had brought up a point during the deliberations that he didn’t see a strong motive for such a crime. The others told him that he just had a lot to learn about Southern men. And, there hadn’t been much of a defense presented. What could the man’s attorney say—that his client had threatened to kill a man and then did, but that didn’t make a boy all bad?