28

Thursday, January 28, 2021, 3:30 PM Eastern Standard Time

“This is Ian Flannelly, and we are back with yet another in our series of in-depth Wolf News interviews with today’s newsmakers. We are outside the gracious southern home of Senator Graham ‘Cracker’ Hanson, on this unseasonably warm January day. Senator, you used to be a severe critic of the President. What caused you to change your mind?”

The Senator looked from side to side, as if he expected to see someone behind the barn or up a tree, watching him.

“Well, Ian, I’d say it was talking to the man, getting to know him, realizing this was the right man for the moment.”

“What took you so long?”

“Well, I guess like many people, even people in our party, I had been taking as true a lot of the reports about what he was like, the reports coming from what you like to call “the fake news.’”

“You should have been watching us instead.”

The Senator gritted his teeth.

“I know that now. Anyway, he’s a bit rough around the edges, but once you get past his language and his Toots and all that, what he’s done for this country, I don’t think, when you get right down to it, that anyone else could have accomplished so many things for the people as this President has done. And his courage in facing down the virus, that was inspiring.”

“But during the 2016 campaign, you called him ‘a baboon who has been taught a few simple vocabulary words,’ ‘a particularly dimwitted orangutan,’ ‘the world record-holder for serial bankruptcy,’ ‘a prodigy at destroying investment capital,’ ‘a porn-star-shtupping flabby ignoramus’…”

The Senator’s face turned ashen white, then red.

“Well, that was a long time ago, and as you recall I was running against him that year.”

“Actually, Senator, you said all these things long after he had won your party’s nomination, and he was involved in a tough fight against the worst and most dangerous and corrupt candidate in the history of the Demon-cratic Party – sorry, the Demon-crat Party, I sometimes trip over that one.”

“Well…” the Senator said slowly, as if in pain, “live and learn.”

“Tell us what you think about the Attorney General initiating proceedings against crooked Demon-crat members of the FBI involved in the Russia hoax and the impeachment hoax.”

Seeing an avenue to change the subject, Hanson grew animated.

“Well I think it’s about time these anti-American schemers” (here the Senator seemed to get a catch in his throat) “who have been out to get the President from even before the beginning of his first term see the inside of a jail cell.”

“How about his crooked Democrat 2016 opponent?”

“She should also face justice.”

“Weren’t you friends at one time?”

The Senator looked confused for a moment, then stricken.

“Friends? Gawd no. The Senate used to be sort of a club where everyone lived and let live. That worked in a country where political opponents weren’t extremist socialists seeking to end all that made America great. No, I would not say we were ever friends.”

“And the Russia hoax. You at one time said that the allegations troubled you, and deserved investigation.”

The Senator’s dyspepsia returned.

“I guess back then I was still naïve enough to give the benefit of the doubt to Democrats. Now I know they will stop at nothing to destroy this country.”

“I’m done giving credence to Democrats. I stand four-square with the President.”

“How about the new Supreme Court nominees? What do you think? There are those who say they lack experience.”

The Senator looked pained, but said, “Good. We’ve had nothing but experience on that Court, and where has it gotten us?”

“But you yourself are a lawyer. Surely you don’t dismiss all legal experience.”

Now he seemed to be a hostage reading a speech prepared by captors.

“Law schools have turned into Marxist training grounds. The law too often has been used as a tool to advance socialism, political correctness, and the radical Democrat agenda. It’s time we rolled back the failed Marxist policies of the past 100 years.”

“Well this certainly marks a change in tone from a few years ago. A welcome change, I would add, to all our viewers, I think.”

Hanson radiated cordial hatred toward his unwanted guest. Flannelly went on, oblivious.

“You have quite the spread here. Can you tell us a little about it?”

Hanson went from hate back to mere discomfort at the interviewer’s tacky intrusiveness.

“Well, Mother left it to me in her will, otherwise I would never be able to afford it on my government salary.”

“You’ve got a great place here, but you’ve never married.”

Was this waterboarding session never going to end?

“Well, I’ve been pretty busy taking care of my constituents, so I don’t get a lot of time to date. Someday maybe. I’ve got other priorities right now.”

“So how did you end up with this swell spread? Our viewers want to know. Could you describe it for us?”

“We have 500 acres here, very good farmland my father inherited from my grandfather. We have some horses and a few sheep and of course, my best friend here, Daisy. Come here, Daisy!”

Off-camera, there was a sound of a dog snarling.

“She doesn’t seem too excited about coming over.”

“Well, I think maybe she’s coming down with something.”

“Can we get her over here?”

“You don’t have to…”

The dog was brought over toward the Senator by a production assistant. She continued to snarl quietly, and bared her teeth at him.

“Why don’t we… let her run along,” the Senator suggested.

“That seems like a good idea,” the host replied. The dog leaped out of the arms of the assistant and took off for the tree line.

“Well, that about does it for us down here in the genteel Old South. Senator, thank you for your time.”

“Thank you, Ian.” He cleared his throat and choked out, “Any time.”

The cameras switched off, and the crew began to pack up their equipment. Still seated, the Senator looked wistfully off into the distance, at the rapidly receding rump of his dog.

Ian turned to the Senator. “Is that a collie?”