And in Washington… Wallace is missing a cowgirl hat

Frank Figluzzi opened an investigation to find out if the pundit is wearing Tony’s Lamas or if The Wallace sacrificed an Emu or just a Common Ostrich for her boots (if in fact she’s wearing any) Heilemann* reports.

In-house Advertorial

In-house advertorial .::. 0EA0B48E-37CD-473E-A75B-7CC499516561 🔥 Deer, Michael Moore, if you return that fucking cup back to msnbc, then you ain’t a Black Cuban! Sincerely, PATTON OSWALD.

* Heilemann is moonlighting as fictional character “Uncle Duke” from the DooMsbury universe.

The setting:
A lake-front property where Uncle Duke is holding a video conference session with The Wallace and Mr. Schmitty. Across the lake, Uncle Duke’s antagonist and anti-establishment Chicago lawyer, OSCAR ZETA ACOSTA, is seen opening up a portable table. Although The Wallace and Mr. Schmitty’s can’t possibly tell from their on-line perspective, Uncle Duke’s back is facing Zeta’s sight.

It's Anarchy!

It’s Anarchy! .::. 5B3353B2-47B6-4354-96AC-24CC6BB50F9C 🐃

… Lorem ipsum, yada, yada, yada, across Heilemann’s private lake (that rich motherfucker) Oscar set his “luggage” on top of the table, pulled out a .22 rifle with a Super Dupper sight and aimed his weapon at the tripod holding “curly’s” camera. Oscar looked into the Super Dupper sight, aimed at one of the tripod legs, held his breath and with the finesse of a feather falling and then touching the ground Oscar pulled on the Remington trigger.

Target. And the best part is that everyone watching blamed the dog.

Who's got the last word now

—. Who’s got the last word now, Dukie? .::. Here to break-it down is the voice of The BriWi.

… Oscar’s bullet just barely touched the tripod’s leg, the intent was not to damage Heilemann’s equipment, but more to fuck with the transmission and after Heilemann picked up and settled the camera back on his table, and as The Wallace and Mr. Schmitty giggled at Uncle Dukie’s dog intervention, Zeta did it again, without leaving a MARK, —of course.

Back at Pundit Central, a veteran jar head noticed something strange from the playback, and called in the forensic unit from El WaPo, and the first thing that Eugene Robinson asked was if the it was normal for the rooster to rest that high on the three.

Uncle Duke nodded a yes.

What about that ostrich, what spooked that feather fucker? Why did she put her head in the ground? Probably because right before the ruckus happened I ripped out a loud one, responded Heilemann as he rolled a Doobie.

“I’ve seen that movie too,” said the veteran jar head. Say d.a.r.e. Dukie, are you and your neighbor still going at IT with the shoot-outs when you two fuckers get high?

Sure, said Heilemann, “but he’s not here right now.”

Are you sure about D.A.T., Dukie? Your lava lamp has two holes and you haven’t even noticed yet, boy Eye tells you Dukie, that fucking Lazlo is good, I think your dog was trying to tell you something.

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