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BOB BECKEL TAKES AIM AT DONALD TRUMP

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After an extended vacation our fearless reporter, Boo Feeder,  has returned for your pleasure.  Mr. Feeder played gumshoe to track Bob Beckel to an after hours bar on 14th Street in southeast DC.  Carefully memorizing the secret knock on the oak paneled door, Boo Feeder rapped three times, kicked twice then hummed the tune of ‘One For My Baby’ into the six inch sliding steel hatch. He was let in and, luckily for him, the patrons were too intoxicated to notice or care who the guy with an Orioles tee-shirt tucked into a pair of slightly too large pair of jeans. Feeder was happy to have lost a few pounds these past few months but not nearly as elated to have caught Bob Beckel alone with his cheeks falling over the sides of a barstool. He sat next to the come-back liberal on Fox News and placed his phone between them to record the conversation.


Beckel began with”Orioles huh? They blew it in the World Series last years. Why the hell you thank they’ll win this year? THEY”RE DONE I tell youse! Hey slim, what’s that chatterbox doing on the bar?” 

“It’s my cellphone Mr. Beckel. I’d like to have our one-on-one recorded if that’s okay. Okay?”

“What the hell do I care asshole? Orioles suck!” Beckel said after slamming a bottle of soda on the bar.

“O’s haven’t been to the big show since 1983 when they beat Philly in five but that’s not what I want to talk to you about. Glad to see you’re drinking Coke not Coor’s but why here in a bar? Isn’t it dangerous for an alcoholic to sit at a bar at 3:30 in the morning?”

“None of your effing buzzniss buster. What you here for? Trump put you up to this? That freakin’ lying con man bazztert.” Beck was shouting now. With both fists pounded on the bar he continued “FREAKING LYINGS DRUMP! His goldamn fault that I’m sherry-er. Sum uva BRITCH flat I’m high against.” One cheek followed the other to the floor leaving Bob Beckel to shout more indiscernible words into the unpolished dirty wood flooring.

“But Bob, you’re drinking Coca Cola not some Russian vodka. How can you be drunk? Why do you hate Donald Trump so much? Isn’t anger poison to your sobriety?” Boo Feeder said compassionately. Beckel was like the political equivalent to Howard Cosell; a man you loved to hate. Not like this though. His fellow babbling, incoherent, angry Democrat friends can tolerate such vitriol but Feeder is not one of them.

“Druck? I’m not a truck! So I takes few pills so onest a while. SOO FreakING SO! I don’t take Votka so there your Trump bastred. I love efferyfuggingbody cept that bitsh Thrump. Heza LIAR! What ju mean Russia? You a goddam Russkier from that muffa Republicant Troump? GET OUR HERA BAZZERT! I TOLE YOU LOVE NOT HARE!” Beckel continued the rant rolling on the floor mumbling more profanity.

Boo Feeder watched helplessly as the straight jacket was wrestled on to Bob Beckel’s dirty suit and hauled off to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital. His suspenders were taken off for safety sake and tossed in the direction of Feeeder. He picked them up to hang them in his office where they are today. A memorial to the man that once was and is now in need of much prayer.

May God help Bob Beckel and all the other Trump haters that are so filled with anger that they defy the very principles they vie for.

 

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Written by boofeeder

March 15, 2017 at 5:31 pm

One Response

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  1. […] Source: BOB BECKEL TAKES AIM AT DONALD TRUMP […]


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