Tallahasee - Now that election officials have finally tallied up the votes from yet another tangled mess of a Presidential election in the sunshine state, it has left many residents in the nation's most phallic-like state feeling rather limp.
With the floodtide of states that have been gathering signatures to secede from the Union in its' entirety after being disappointed with their own states election results, only Florida has a growing movement to separate from itself. It seems that the majority of residents who live north of Tampa and the now infamous I-4 corridor are so upset by the finalization that their state has once again gone blue, that they want out, blaming the southern half.
"I refuse to be associated with those people anymore!" Said an angry Blanche Laroix of Crubahatchie County. "Fool us once well, you know the rest." She added, not wanting to take a chance on the rest of the saying like her idol, George Bush.
Many, like Miss Laroix, have been busy since the election results came in, helping gather signatures for the organization known as N.O.F.L.A.F. (Northern Floridians for a better Florida).
"We would like to see either one of two things happen," Said Blanche's husband, Bucky, "either we become our own state or we join one of our neighboring states. A true southern red state that doesn't pussyfoot around with the whims of every election." He added.
Though, upon checking with Florida's neighbors to the north and west, Georgia and Alabama respectively, it seems that both would prefer if the good folks of northern Florida just as well kept to themselves. "It's not that we wouldn't be happy to have 'em." Said Bill Hickendale of the Alabama State Assembly, "but they come with a lot of baggage." He added.
It seems that both of Florida's fence-mates are weary of taking on the added responsibilities that would come with welcoming Northern Florida into their arms. "Northern Florida is basically the ocean's catchers mitt." Mr. Hickendale went on to explain. "Whatever she throws up, there's a very good chance that northern Florida is gonna catch it." Hickendale explained. While he wasn't willing to go on record, stating whether or not the rising number of hurricanes in recent years was the work of man or the good lord's will, his State wasn't ready to take on the caretaker's role of such a vast amount of gulf coast real estate. "We have enough to handle already." Mr. Hickendale explained about his states sixty miles of gulf coast. "Right now we feel more comfortable with what we have." He said, wishing the folks of northern Florida well in their efforts to separate themselves from the waist up.
The same was true of officials we spoke with from the great state of Georgia too, who were also more comfortable with the small amount of liability they had along the Atlantic shore. "If you pour a pitcher of water on your chest," Randy Huckleby from Georgia's State office said, "Where do you think most of it's gonna end up?" He asked. "That's right. Right in your crotch." He answered himself a moment later. "That entire state is gonna look like a bad movie starring Kevin Costner in about twenty years." Huckleby added. "I'm just glad it didn't happen to us." He said in regards to Florida's vote tally, hanging up the phone with a southern chuckle.
The folks at NOFLAF aren't laughing though and have already gained enough signatures to send their petition to Tallahassee for a vote on the state house floor. "We envision a twelve foot high chain link fence with razor wire running straight down the middle of Interstate 4." Said NOFLAF's spokesperson, Jerry Trickle. "They get all the New Yorkers, Cubans and gays," He said of the south side, "while we get the military, Nascar and check scam artists." He added.
But what about the poor folks that find themselves on the wrong side of the fence we wondered? To which Mr. Trickle had a solution. "We image that there would be some sort of property swap website on the Internet." He explained with a stone-faced expression that meant business. Mr. Trickle was certain that once the fence started going up, NOFLAF supporters who found themselves on the southern side would gladly trade their two bed, two bath condos for a few acres of pine-filled, sand forest in the north and that the whole thing would work itself out.
Those we spoke too on the southern side seemed perfectly happy with the idea as well. We asked Maury Shapiro, a resident of West Palm Beach whom we met walking his wife's Pug while she shopped, if his side had an organization that supported the separation too? "Yeah! We got an organization," He told us, "We're called Democrats!" He said with a cackle, kicking a Pug turd into some fauna outside a spendy boutique.
Others in the south worried about how they would make their bi-annual migratory routes up and down the coast when driving but most thought that it would be a small price to pay if it meant not being associated with people who would have voted for the Romney/Ryan ticket. "I just worry that they might try to ambush us on the way home every spring." Said Patricia Wallerstien, who imagined that it wouldn't take long before the entire northern part of the state turned into something more akin to Somalia or even worse, Arizona. "Maybe we could split it right up the middle?" Mrs. Wallerstien suggested, adding that the NOFLAFers could take the Gulf side, of which she couldn't remember the last time she had ever visited, then remembered it was when she had gotten deathly ill from a bad serving of shrimp cocktail in Naples.
Officials we talked to in Tallahassee assured us that the whole mess would blow over in a few months time and hoped cooler heads would prevail. "We are alarmed at the number of boxes containing signatures that keep arriving on our doorstep though." Said a tired Galen Chambers, who was in charge of counting them all. "We're sure lots of folks are signing the petiton two or three times." He told us, pulling a beer stained sheet from the vast pile. This petition had the same last name of Crugger, chicken-scratched on every line. "But then again, maybe not. This is probably a large family, all living at one address, it's pretty common up here." He said wearily, tossing the page back onto the every growing stack.
Chambers acknowledged the seriousness of the situation but vowed that Florida would never be cut in half. But when asked about what would happen if a still united Florida went Democratic again in 2016, Chambers lowered his head without answering. "I just need to get out of here for a while." He said, staring glossy-eyed at the boxes. "Lets go to the beach."