Flattery Will Get You . . .
Poor Mike Pence.
(Now there’s a sentence this queer never thought she’d write.)
For four years he’s been the oligarch of obsequiousness, the baron of brown-nosing, the Pharaoh of Pfawning. And where has all that toadying to Trump gotten him?
Last week his boss pressured him in person, in speeches and on Twitter to steal the election. Then, as Pence fulfilled his constitutionally mandated role to oversee the counting of the Electoral votes, a mob Trump had whipped up stormed the Capitol, and Pence himself had to flee. Incredibly, rioters chanted, “Hang Mike Pence!”
Is that gratitude? Four years of beaming at Trump, of stroking his . . . ego at every opportunity. And this is how he’s repaid?
Then a furious Congress pressed Pence to invoke the 25th Amendment and eject Trump from office. How can one man switch from servile to usurper in a matter of days? That requires at least two weeks.
Granted, Mike was pissed at Donald. The prez and the veep weren’t even speaking. Presumably Pence finally found some backbone and refused to engage with Trump until the president sent him a dozen roses and a teddy bear.
Now the word is the two have met, and will stick together for the final days of their administration. They’ll go out the way they came in — although the doubts they had about each other in the early days have been replaced by a sincere and mutual loathing.
It would be easy at this point to say that Pence, in his zeal to be vice president, made a deal with the devil. And I will say it, because it’s true, and now he knows it in spades. Pence has been one of the foremost aiders and abettors of a mentally and morally unfit Trump — and it could’ve gotten him killed.
Perhaps going back to Indiana to keep gays from acquiring wedding cakes has a whole new appeal.