Imagine an old Western. Let’s call it Slitherado.

Slitherado got its name from all the snakes and creepy critters that overrun the town where it’s set.

One day, a rough and tumble fighter shows up with a foul mouth, a bad reputation and a ragtag posse. One which you could only call deplorable. Old Orange. His aim and the aim of those riding with him? He’s been hired to clean up the town. The merchants, movers and shakers in Slitherado don’t like their kind, and they sure do hate their ringleader. 

“Worst thing is,” they say, spitting in the dirt, “He used to be one of us.” 

Simply put, Old Orange has got to be run out of town or put six feet under. Bounties are posted. Gunslingers open fire from the left and from the right. Even down at the performance hall, showmen, showgirls and all manner of showboats curse him, even strutting on stage with his severed head, offering savage sketches about his young son. 

“What’s their problem?” he wonders, “Don’t they remember how they used to come to me for favors, shower me with praise, include me in their acts?”

As Old Orange moves to take his rightful place at town hall, those foes declare, “Your mandate don’t mean nuthin’ here. We didn’t choose you.” They try to block the entrance. Blow up his businesses. Drag his kin through the mud. Nothing works. Fortunately, they have an insurance policy.

“Get us The Mule!”

Slitherado’s former marshal is dragged back into town. “The Mule surely take care of this rabble-rouser!” 

But things do not go as planned.

The Card Game

“Slitherado is our town. It ain’t yours. And certainly ain’t those Deplorables’. You can smell ’em down at the mart. We certainly ain’t going to serve them. But we certainly will spit on them.

“So you sit down right there, and we’re going to play a high-stakes game of cards with The Mule dealing. If the House wins, you leave town.” 

“And if I win?”  The Slitherados just laugh in his face.

The deck, you see, is stacked. The game is rigged. They’ve putting spotters behind him to look at the cards he does have. The cards have been doctored. Cards that could help Old Orange have been hidden. Cards that are black, they can call red. In fact, this whole deck was created by Old Orange’s enemies, paid for by his fiercest rival. This whole scenario orchestrated by the former mayor and his hombres. As for The Mule, well, if Old Orange wins, all The Mule’s old pals go to jail.

High-stakes, indeed.

Meanwhile, before the game gets underway, Old Orange’s chair is being cut away by loyalists to the old mayor. He doesn’t like those folks who cling to their guns and their religion.

“What are the rules?” Old Orange asks, “Do the same rules apply that apply to everyone else?” 

The Slitherados bellow with laughter. 

And the game begins. For two years it goes on. Hand after hand. He calls out the cheating. He calls out the bluffs. This only makes the Slitherados angrier. “That’s illegal in this town.” The Mule keeps on dealing.

But an amazing thing happens. Old Orange still takes half the hands. And fights to a draw on the other half. When the smoke settles, the verdict is clear: He won. The House lost. Despite the House having every advantage, Old Orange won. The new sheriff, just arrived in town, says so. Marshall Mule grudgingly admits it. He’s been beat. And looks it.

In the traditional American tale, this is where Old Orange would get up from the table, grab his beautiful lady, as the honest townfolk cheer, and a new, fresh light shines on Slitherado.

But this is no longer traditional America. 

The Next Act

Despite Old Orange still managing to win a fixed game — the game they themselves called for, the game they said was all or nothing — the House and Slitherados shout to the hills “He cheated! We know he cheated!  Mule says Old Orange did not win half the hands outright, so he’s not in the clear! That’s proof he really lost!”

Of course, that’s not the way it works. That’s not the way it’s ever worked in this great land. 

But Slitherado’s got a new motto: “Hang First. Don’t Allow Questions Later.”

Meanwhile, the House plots another game. They are clamoring for it, begging for it. Saying Old Orange is asking for it. The game of “Impeachment,” which has only been played only a couple times before. Both times the impeachers failed to take their man out. They’re guaranteed to fail this time, too. 

Still, Old Orange may be forced to play. But then again, when hasn’t he been up for a fight?

And he knows something they also know, which explains their desperation: The tables are being turned. Old Orange has his own cards to play. A royal flush, where Truth is King, Lady Justice is Queen and the jokers of Slitherado are in for a world of hurt. 

A storm rumbles on the edge of town.

 

Al Perrotta is the Managing Editor of The Stream, and co-author with @JZmirak of The Politically Incorrect Guide to Immigration. You can follow him at @StreamingAl. And if you aren’t already, please follow The Stream at @Streamdotorg.