Wrestle Dudley Do-right out of retirement. Sarah Barracuda is about to start a crime wave. Just this week, she let slip to Celebrity Clarence Narrow, Greta Van Sustern the following:
“I’m like, O.K., God, if there is an open door for me somewhere — this is what I always pray — don’t let me miss the open door. Show me where the open door is, even if it’s cracked open a little bit, maybe I’ll plow right on through that and maybe prematurely plow through it.”
I italicized the key phrase, because that’s the one that raises ambition to the level of sinister, mustache twirling plot. For one to plow right on through a slightly open door prematurely, one needs to hit the door BEFORE it is . . . well . . . opened. Down here in the contiguous forty-eight that constitutes breaking and entering. This isn’t “God helps those who help themselves.” This is “God helps those who help themselves to whatever is ain’t nailed down.” An what makes matters worse, is that we can’t be sure who is the mastermind and who is the henchman (hench-person, hench-wench?). It could well turn out that Mr. Big really is “Mr. Big!” The incantation is, after all pretty much for God to find the open door then come and get her. “Don’t let me miss it.” “Show me where it is.” So maybe Sarah is really Bonasera, the undertaker in The Godfather who gets her favor and had better jump when she is called.
My money though is on our little Harpie Seal, Sarah–I might be practicing my flute or waxing Todd’s back, or just sitting around with my, you know, sharpie drawing bras on the statues in the art books at the library when that door creaks open. If that door slams shut before I get to it, mister, someone is going to have to be held accountable. God is My Co-Pilot has become God is My Wheel Man. “Plague of toads! Forty days of rain? Mister, you haven’t SEEN wrath!”
Whatever the case, something is going down . . . sooner than later. We need to get somebody on the case. The obvious choice would be the local–Sgt. Preston and his faith husky, KIng. But Sgt. Preston isn’t right for this one. We need our old pal Dudley.
Why ship in a foreigner when a local is on hand? This is Sarah Palin country. Doesn’t that just scream cartoon?