Mothra said:
Sam Lowry said:
Mothra said:
Shooting occurred outside of the airport in the middle of the night, just FYI. Not a good comparison.
You are so predictable it's scary.
I realize you're just a troll nowdays and would argue with me if I said water is wet, but I'm not sure a remotely comparable set of circumstances proves much of anything.
I suspect if the white dude came into a crowded airport, fired off his gun, and got shot by police officers, while clearing the airport and delaying hundreds of flights, that story would have gotten a bit more play.
How the coverage played out in Mothra's mind...
RIPPLE DISSOLVE TO:
INT. EDITOR'S OFFICE - DAY
Ed, a small town newspaper editor and secret satanist, sits behind his desk. Suddenly Sam, a radical left-wing journalist, bursts through the door.
SAM: Boss! You'll never believe this!
ED: Would you mind taking off that mask? I can't hear a word you're saying. You know COVID is just a rumor that Soros and I started so we could inject people with the gay gene.
SAM: Sorry, boss, I keep forgetting. You've got to hear this. It's front page material!
ED: What is it?
SAM: Shooting at the Tulsa airport!
ED: Sam, I keep telling you these are no good. What is it this time, another black guy?
SAM: No, this one's different.
ED: Black girl?
SAM: No.
ED: Oh, an illegal alien.
SAM: No.
ED: Lesbian?
SAM: Nope.
ED: Trans!
SAM: No, that's what I'm telling you. It's a dude and he's as white as can be.
ED: You're kidding.
SAM: No, boss. Wait until you see him.
Sam hands a photo across the desk to Ed.
ED: No way! A face tattoo?
SAM: He's straight from the trailer park. Might as well be wearing a MAGA hat.
ED: Holy smokes. This is gold!
Ed picks up the phone, an old-fashioned model with a rotary dial.
ED: Peggy, get George on the line. Come to think of it, get Hillary too. Oh, and Epstein. He's gonna love this. No, he didn't commit suicide. How many times do I have to tell you people?
Ed hangs up and looks at Sam, bewildered.
SAM: So, boss.
ED: Yeah, yeah. Give me the details.
SAM: Multiple shots fired.
ED: Which airport is this?
SAM: Tulsa International.
ED: Are they big?
SAM: I mean they're not Dallas-Love big, but...
ED: Who is?
SAM: Exactly. So like I was saying, multiple shots fired.
ED: Yeah.
SAM: Crowd flees in a panic and floods the stairwells.
ED: Yeah?
SAM: Passengers hiding in bathrooms. Crouched under ticket counters. Employees pushing people into the elevators. It's total chaos.
ED: White male rage run amuck.
SAM: And you haven't heard the best part.
ED: What's that?
SAM: One cop shot and sent to the hospital.
ED: All cops are b******s!
SAM: Black lives matter!
ED: I think you did it this time, Sam. You really did it.
SAM: Thanks, boss.
ED: Does CNN have this yet?
SAM: Not yet.
ED: We'd better move fast, cause they're going to be all over it.
SAM: Oh, there's one more thing. I've got video.
ED: Eyewitness?
SAM: Yep.
ED: Hot damn! I can see the story now. Right-wing terrorism out of control. Any idea whether this was politically motivated?
SAM: Not really, but...
ED: Never mind. Until we hear otherwise, the guy was a white supremacist. Or maybe a pro-life fanatic. You take your pick.
SAM: Yes sir!
ED: And a Trump supporter.
SAM: Goes without saying.
ED: Make sure you work in something about gun control.
SAM: You don't have to tell me twice.
ED: I'm sorry I ever doubted you, boy. This could be the story of a lifetime. Let's see that video.
Sam takes out his phone and begins playing the video. Sounds of gunfire, screams, and squealing tires fill the air. Sam is beaming, his face flushed with pride. Meanwhile Ed's expression darkens...at first doubtful, then astonished, then sinking into despair.
ED: What the hell is this?
SAM: What do you mean, boss?
ED: You didn't tell me it was dark.
SAM: Huh?
ED: It's the middle of the freaking night! What time did this happen?
SAM: About 11:00 PM.
ED: Oh, for the love of...and why is everyone outside?
SAM: Outside?
ED: Yes, you idiot. Outside. Out of doors.
SAM: It's the pick-up lane. You know, where people drive in to pick up the passengers who just landed. Apparently the MAGAt's wife was on the plane and he was trying to kill her. You should have seen how he...he was...uh...
Sam's voice trails off. Ed's face is buried in his hands. He straightens and looks at Sam, red with rage and disappointment.
ED: You call this a story?
SAM: Boss...
ED: You stupid son of a *****.
SAM: That's threatening language, boss.
ED: I can't use this ****!
SAM: Personal space, boss!
Ed lunges across the desk, howling with fury, flailing and swinging his fists.
SAM: Stop! Harassment! Harassment!
Sam throws open the door and runs out as quickly as he ran in. His voice echoes down the hallway, fainter and fainter as he flees.
SAM: Me too! Me too! Me too...!
Peggy puts her head in the doorway as Ed collapses back into his chair, exhausted.
PEGGY: Is everything all right, sir?
ED: Cancel those calls, Peggy. In fact cancel everything for the rest of the week. I feel a bender coming on.
PEGGY: Yes sir. Is there anything I can do?
ED: Send an email to Beelzebub over at the DNC. Tell him the long march through the institutions is over, at least for '22. With any luck we can regroup after midterms.
PEGGY: Yes sir.
She turns to go.
ED: Oh, and Peggy?
PEGGY: Sir?
ED: Tell Sam I want to see him first thing Monday morning. I'm taking him off the news beat and putting him to work on the troll farm.
PEGGY: Are you sure, sir?
ED: Damn right I am. A few years on SicEm365 will show him what happens to slackers around here.
Peggy's face turns white.
PEGGY: Yes sir.
ED: Black lives matter!
PEGGY: Black lives matter!
FADE OUT.