The highlight of the recent GOP presidential debate occurred almost halfway through, when Mit Romney and Michele Bachmann—who are, by the way, a great-looking couple; they ought to do Cialis ads in those bathtubs—wowed the crowd with a sexy rendition of “Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better, I Can Do Anything Better Than You.”
The game of one-upmanship between the two leading Republican candidates should not have come as a big surprise, given the sharp escalation of campaign promises on the part of the Republican aspirants to the White House. According to longtime political pundit Harlan W. Pratt of the Idaho Institute of Politics, the song-and-dance number by Romney and Bachmann is the logical outcome of the tiresome and predictable game of campaign promises.
“It used to be that old-time politicians would promise a chicken in every pot. These guys and gals are no different. Here we have the country going down the drain, and these buffoons are promising we’d all get rich and the country would prosper if we’d just get rid of taxes and do away with government. Of course, no one takes them seriously, so it’s predictable that what I call ‘promissory proliferation’ would lead to a rhetorical arms race of absurd proportions.”
It is not exactly clear how the latest round of promissory proliferation escalated, but most observers point to the promise of Newt Gingrich, a legendary good eater, to issue an executive order immediately after his inauguration to “end indigestion as we know it.”
(Some nitpicking pundits refuse to give Gingrich pride of place, instead crediting the escalation instigation to Godfather’s Pizza poobah Herman Cain, who promised to deliver a large All-Meat Combo and cheese sticks to every man, woman and child in America.)
The other debating hopefuls could not let Gingrich’s stirring call to cure indigestion stand without going him one better. Rick Santorum promised to abolish body odor. Tim Pawlenty promised to personally fit every foot in these United States with an orthotic device. Sarah Palin promised to do away there with all those unfair I.Q. test doohickey deals there. Then just as Mit, who had just the day before flip-flopped his already downsized name (Mitt to Mit) back from Tim to Mit, declared amnesty to people who tie their dogs to the top of their station wagons on family trips to Canada, Michele Bachmann upstaged everyone by belting out that showstopper from Annie Get Your Gun, “Anything You Can Do.”
“I can end all taxes,” the sexy soprano sang, but before she could continue, something came over Mit, who shocked everyone by hopping downstage and going her one better: “I give better waxes,” he warbled in his lilting tenor voice. (Later, he told reporters, “I don’t know, it was like I was inspired or something. I guess I just wanted everyone to see and hear the real me.”)
Ms. Bachmann, still trim and fit at age 51, practically melted in the arms of the still virile Mr. Romney as he countered her “I can cure your pimples,” with, “Gee, I love your dimples.” The chemistry between the two was so hot that the other candidates began to sweat. (All except Jon Huntsman Jr., that is, who never sweats.)
Almost immediately, as if by spontaneous combustion, the crowd began chanting, “Mit and Michele in 2012, Mit and Michele in 2012.” How was anyone going to top that possible dream ticket? Newt Gingrich sidled over to Sarah Palin and whispered something in her ear, which was fortunately picked up by a directional microphone: “I think we make a cuter couple than those two. What do you say, Sarah Baby?”
But Ms. Palin already had her eyes on Jonny Huntsman, who was lurking bashfully stage left, like an understudy hoping for a chance to show his stuff. “Let Mit and Michelle sing all they want,” Ms. Palin murmured to Mr. Huntsman. “Let’s you and me go for a ride. Your motorcycle or mine?”
When last seen, the new young couple were heading down the highway, with Sarah at the helm and Jonny hanging on behind.
Contacted at his Twin Falls condominium, pundit Harlan Pratt was enthusiastic about the latest turn of events. “Once again, young Huntsman has one-upped Romney, who obviously thought teaming with Bachmann was his ticket to the top. Those crazy motorcycle kids are now the favorites. But they’d better get back soon from their ride or tongues will start to wag.”
D.P. Sorensen writes a satire column for City Weekly.
