Six Inches of Home Run Ham
Donald Trump has the National Guard rolling into the streets of the nation’s capital city, but—angels and ministers of grace, defend us!—there’s a maniac with cold-cuts on the loose.
(Six Inches of Home Run Ham was not, tragically, the name of one of those softcore porn movies Trump appeared in before the thrice-married game show host became the tribune of American evangelicals.)
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There are terrorists and human traffickers and cartels and old-fashioned mobsters and gangsters out there, all across the fruited plain, and, in our nation’s hideous capital, there are little platoons of madness, schizophrenic onanists on the sidewalk manhandling the ham candle, having a hallucinatory ménage à moi right there on all the best commercial real estate in town, and Pam Bondi is pointing to the guy committing flagrant hoagie assault (Flagrant Hoagie Assault also is not the name of one of those softcore porn movies Trump was in) and crying out to the weary republic: “See? See? This—THIS!—is what we are up against!”
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Sandwich guy apparently believes that the bread machine over at Subway has the same slogan on the side as Woody Guthrie’s guitar: “This machine kills fascists.” And poor feckless Pam Bondi, being as clever as a sausage, has to wait around for someone to tell her what to think about that.