Don’t gum up the works
The drunk staggered along the street. He was dirty, smelly, and bedraggled. He bumped between parking meters and cars. Like a sad ping pong match. The police car was at the corner. Illegally parked, of course; the members of the long blue line were on doughnut break. From their “selfless” mission, protecting and serving the entrenched elite. The drunk was an equal opportunity ping pong ball. He bounced off their car, around the corner and away.
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It was the death of his wife that set him off. No one much cared about him. But, then that feeling was mutual with him. He was a self-described “tin foil hat patriot”. Who would know if he was a pinhead or a patriot? Who’d much care! As long as he paid his taxes, there was much he could do. Frustratingly, he blogged. He wrote his letters. He went to demonstrations. He voted religiously. But nothing much mattered. It all came to him in an Auto Parts store. He needed replacement windshield wiper blades. A very mundane purchase. After all if was one of the last things you could do on a car without the government’s permission. The socialists had succeeded in making everything with cars either illegal, expensive, or sealed. You could put an additive in your oil; it’s damaging the planet. Gas was eight bucks a gallon, seven of which was tax; taxed like beer, treated liked drugs. The twenty two hundred dollar catalytic converter was sealed shut; the earth had to “breathe” too you know. Global warming. Remember Mother Earth. For the children. The Auto Parts store had some vintage signs as decoration. One was for an old product called Gunk Out. The slogan was: “Don’t gum up the works!”. Next to the car register were small packages of liquid epoxy designed to stick trim back on cars. Their slogan was: “It’ll never be loose again.” On an impulse, he bought five at this store. And went to another store for more.
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It was the end of a quiet shift. The police pair had been “clocked out” as they drove into the station parking lot. Due to budget crises, there was an automatic badge reader that recorded their status. They just had to refill the patrol car on their own time. The city saved grazillions on the “free labor”; their union had gotten other off-budget concessions. So, their end of shift chores were “off the clock”. Fill up the tank, record the serial number of ammo returned to the armory, lock up their personal weapons until next shift, download their computers to the HQ network. All their problem. Pulling up to the gas pump, the non-driver went to pump. They switched roles each shift. Just like they’d change who was the “bad cop” in their “good cop / bad cop” routine they’d run on suspects. It was all about making their quotas. The gas tank cover wouldn’t open. They were befuddled. They tried knives. They called for help. Finally, the mechanic drilled the cover and cut it off. Four hours later, gas was flowing into their tank. Their car was put out of service for repair. They were being investigated by Internal Affairs for sabatoge. Fixing that was going to be expensive. Especially at government prices!
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The next morning, the city’s 311 number was taking calls from irate citizens. There was no where to park. Every other meter on several blocks wouldn’t take money. What’s worse, if the parker ignored the problem, the automated parking meters would sense there was a car parked, that no graft was being paid to the city for that privilege, and a traffic agent was printed out a ticket automatically to be delivered to that car. Maybe it even got there. On some of the newer meters, it would also read the license plate, and mail a three day violation notice to the registered owner. After three days, if the $125 fine was not paid, their license and registration was suspended automatically. After seven days, a collection agency was engaged. After fourteen days, an arrest warrant was issued. All automagically. The older meters still relied on the Civil Servants to eventually get the paperwork where it should be. The law was written for the new meters. May take years but everyone would be penalized in due time. There’d be arrests for eons based on the old tickets; no statue of limitations and no requirement that tickets be done promptly by the government. But, no such “grace period” for the rabble. It was making pinheads into patriots everywhere in society. It was hard to be uninvolved. Everyone was getting into the act!
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It really wasn’t so bad. They were doing OK until the internet got the story. They had suppressed the press from reporting. They were the lapdogs of the politicians. But, eventually, six days later, the blogosphere erupted with the news. Enraged bloggers caught in the mess screamed to Holy Heaven. The the patriot bloggers picked it up. Then the outlawed bittorrenters distributed pointers to how it was done. All sorts of glue sold out in a few days. Then the fun really began. Finally way to late, wweks later, the government suspended the sale of all glue. It was more heavily regulated than guns.
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Eventually government ceased to function. Society thrived. But government was “glued” solid. Unmovable. Yes, it was a little inconvenient to get around the “road blocks”. But it was funny to see the mayor’s limo encased in epoxy!
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Yes, you really should NOT gum up the works.
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[NOTE: This is Johnathan Swift satire, you should NOT do this!]
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Reinke Faces Life 