Page 47 - TheLeekCovidEdition_1

“I have to weigh in. This debate is clearly feminist. I demand that Mother – er, my wife – join me on stage to level the playing field.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Pence, but mothers and spouses are not allowed on stage. Please let me assure you, no one in this auditorium is above
the law of the nonpartisan Commission on Presidential Debates. Please take a deep breath and let me know if you need a short break to compose yourself,” Page advised.
On the word “compose,” a black fly appeared out of nowhere, and touched down on Mr. Pence’s slicked-down, silver hair. The vice president appeared to react with well-timed tranquility. A mournful pout emerged on his face. He cocked his head, but the fly stayed securely planted in an abundance of hairspray or some other sticky substance.
Mr. Pence resumed his train of thought, “If I may Susan, I have learned a lot from my total loyalty to the president: Always talk loudly, never back down, never admit a mistake, never apologize, never trust science, never use complete sentences, and never, ever exhibit your feelings or tax returns.”
As Mr. Pence concluded his aside, the fly in his hair finally broke free and flew into the plexiglass shield. A collective gasp emanated from the audience as the fly hit the shield and fell to the floor. Mr. Pence appeared oblivious to the fly’s performance, but stood and took a bow when the fly regained flight and the audience broke into applause.
This story will be updated as new information from the fly becomes available.