Marjorie Taylor Greene … also known as The Victim … went to New York City and did some shopping!
She picked up some lovely black leather jackboots so shiny she could see her Georgian face in them.
Then she bought a new purse big enough to hold all her guns and knives, plus mace and a copy of all of Trump’s fictional novels, plus the Bible and Mein Kampf.
Then she wandered into Harlem and was confused as to why there were so many black people in HER America, so she wandered out before she got reverse-lynched (is that a term?)
Then she waited for her boyfriend at his tower, but there were tons of people already there and not a single one of them were from THE SOUTH! They were all northerners who still don’t like good wholesome Christians southern belles twirling their parasols and singing twiddle-dee-dee … how rude!
Her boyfriend was taking his sweet time – they were late for a court date or something – so she had her bodyguards usher her through a hostile New York crowd telling her to go back to Georgia and where does she think she is, New Yorkers don’t put up with her shit … why I never!
So Marge went home … down home … to see her ma and pa and all the yungins and the chickens and hogs and pregnant 12 year olds and moonshine and regular lynching and different flags from past eras … home, where the heart is, where the racism is, where the love stews like a bubbling cauldron.
