Author’s note: This article is entirely satirical. While it serves to comment on the functionality of the Congress and existing U.S. representatives, the following characterizations, dialogue, and events only serve to parody these individuals and the Congress, and should not be interpreted as fact.
10 a.m. on Capitol Hill. The birds are singing, C-SPAN is filming, and President Pro Tempore Patty Murray has just claimed her seat in the Senate Chamber — stepping in for Vice President Kamala Harris. Representatives shuffle across the royal blue carpeting, filling the Chamber with low murmurs, while interns gradually settle on viable patches of floor. As the Congress quiets, Murray ponders whether she’s proven to be the pushover pro tempore, or if the Vice President’s dog actually needed emergency oral surgery. Deciding there isn’t anything to be done about it now, Murray opens the session. “The Senate will come to order,” Murray announces. “Please join me in reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.”
With varying degrees of difficulty, the Congress stands to honor the Stars and Stripes. “We pledge allegiance to the flag,” the representatives monotone, hands placed over their hearts. ‘Does she really need to be there while they pull out the dog’s incisors?’ Murray speculates as they approach “with liberty and justice for all.”
Still doubting the woman she once called “friend,” Murray returns to her seat. “Under the previous order, the Senate will resume the consideration of the motion to proceed to S.123, which the clerk will report now.”
“Motion to proceed to S.123,” the clerk announces before the Chamber, “an act to replace the burnt-out lightbulb in the north wing break room.” Taking his cue, Majority Leader Chuck Schumer approaches the rostrum to speak.
‘Since when does anyone care about a dog’s dental hygiene, anyway?’ Murray questions with increasing contempt; her brows furrowed tightly. Noticing the prolonged silence, the clerk clears her throat in the President’s direction. “Majority leader!” Murray responds, pulled from her personal pit of despair and into the Nation’s.
“Madam President,” Schumer begins, adjusting his eyeglasses. “I ask unanimous consent that I and the Republican leader be allowed to speak, and that following our remarks, each control up to one hour of debate time. I ask that we be authorized to yield up to five minutes of that time to any senator seeking recognition.”
“Are there objections?” Murray questions the Congress. Senator Ted Cruz instinctively jerks to raise a hand but is quickly restrained by Senator Elizabeth Warren.
“With no objection, so ordered,” Murray allows.
“Madam President. The replacement of this lightbulb is a bridge, not a destination. This lightbulb is a bridge away from extremism and towards cooperation. It’s a bridge away from partisanship and towards compromise. Away from polarization and towards…” Schumer pauses. Squinting to read the following repetitive synonym, the majority leader decides to move away from the metaphor and towards his point. “Bipartisanship is the only way this Congress will progress. I urge my colleagues to set aside partisan differences and vote in the affirmative today, to restore faith in this legislative body and withdraw from hard-right extremism, unlike the CLOWNS,” Schumer whips his gaze towards the south wing, his stare burning through the eggshell-painted walls, “in the House of Representatives.” Schumer adjusts his eyeglasses, having slipped during his sudden outburst, before continuing. “I trust that by this session’s close, we’ll be a step closer to microwaving our oatmeal beneath fluorescent lighting rather than in darkness.” Gathering his notes, Schumer steps down from the rostrum to invite the succeeding speaker.
“Republican leader,” Murray addresses Mitch McConnell.
The Chamber fills with silence as McConnell apparently struggles to respond. An intern suddenly rushes over and hands the minority leader a small water dish, much like one you’d provide a gecko. After wetting his tongue, he begins. “Madam President. With the majority leader, I agree that compromise is essential. The United States Congress has a higher calling than this partisan vengeance, drifting into polarized factions with contradicting motivations and nothing in common but mutual hostility. Americans deserve better,” McConnell drawls. “This being said, I would like to halt the discussion of replacing the break room light bulb until the Biden administration makes a significant effort to address the southern border crisis, among its many failures.” The Republican leader wets his tongue once more. “In this interest, I’ll endure eating my Jimmy Deans in darkness as long as it takes.” With this, McConnell steps down. Now, Dick Durbin claims the rostrum.
“Democratic whip,” Murray addresses Durbin.
“Madam President. What Schumer said,” the short little man concludes.
Following Durbin’s inspiring remark, Schumer again approaches the rostrum and yields the floor to Senator Warren. Replacing the majority leader at the rostrum, Senator Warren sets her notes down and addresses Murray. “First, I rise to thank my colleagues who’ve negotiated tirelessly on this proposal. With our efforts, we’re closer than ever to operating the Keurig without a flashlight, to walking by the break room without feeling the urge to sprint.” At this, Durbin nods with quivering shame.
“However, the Republicans continue to drag their feet on a proposal that only serves to benefit. Why? Because they object to commissioning our nominee, the ElecTrishas — a woman-owned, sustainability-focused business that has been serving the D.C. community for over 30 years — to get the job done. The ElecTrishas offered discounted electrical inspections during the 2008 financial crisis, and served on the frontlines during the COVID-19 pandemic, providing vital distance installations. Yet, the Republicans have pummeled them with demeaning accusations, disregarding their qualifications entirely. I recall a remark from Senator Ted Budd, who joked, quote, ‘Where’d they get their electrical license; Girls Go Games?’” Senator Warren’s pause for emphasis is devastating. “To question the qualifications of the ElecTrishas is ludicrous, and demonstrates a blatant refusal on the Republicans’ part to address this issue seriously. I yield the floor.” Senator Warren steps down from the rostrum as Senator Budd approaches to speak his mind.
“Senator from North Carolina,” Murray announces, worrying, ‘Should I schedule a teeth cleaning for Mr. Business?’
“Madam President. I’ve yet to see the ElecTrisha’s license to operate, so until we’ve been provided that particular document, I stand by my question,” Senator Budd asserts. “What my colleague fails to mention is that this building already commissions an electric company — one that has served this Chamber for decades, from the powercut panic of ‘67 to this very crisis. I see no reason to betray the dedicated services of Get ‘Er Done Electric — which, I’ll add, has hired a woman since 2017 — for the Democrats’ ‘woke’ agenda.” Here, the senator pauses to apply his American Values face. “I’m of the belief that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Well, I can’t speak for Get ‘Er Done, but I’d say they’re far from broke. In fact,” the senator turns to beckon a man standing awkwardly near the entrance, “I believe Jud here can attest to that himself!”
The stubbled man, wearing a Get ‘Er Done cap and stained workwear, approaches the rostrum.
“Electrician from the District of Columbia,” Murray announces, debating whether she’s a neglectful pet owner, or if the Vice President is just a flake.
“Miss President, I’m not broke,” Jud responds, with the encouragement of Senator Budd.
“Madam President, this is not a hearing!” Senator Warren shouts from her seat. “Senator Budd is completely out of line!”
“Alright, Senator Budd, please make your statement without the assistance of Jud,” Murray instructs. Senator Budd gives Jud a nod to oblige, giving the serviceman a pat on the back as he retreats.
“As for the rumor that Jud was photographed at the January 6 Patriot Convention, there’s no resemblance between this honest man,” Senator Budd points to Jud as evidence of the man’s honesty, “and that bandolier-clad actor. On this vote, I call on my colleagues to consider loyalty over political popularity. I yield the floor.” Senator Budd steps down from the rostrum, signaling to Jud with a double thumbs-up. Senator Lindsay Graham takes this act as one he can easily follow.
“Madam President,” the senator begins with his cracker tin grin, “as much as I respect McConnell, I don’t buy this ‘endurance’ argument a bit. He must possess a greater will than I, because I’ve had it with being a-scared of the break room!” Senator Graham confesses, challenging his colleagues to admit it for themselves. “Budd, don’t look down at yer loafers, I’ve seen you dashing out of that room like Jim Jones’s after you.” Senator Budd has apparently contracted a temporary lack of hearing, as he continues to observe his shoes. “This may be the solitary issue Senator Warren and I’ll ever agree on — Hell’s bells, halting the progress of the radical left is my game as much as anyone! But why discredit a proposal that’ll only make our lives easier? When it’s right, it’s right. I’ll be voting to move forward with S.123, and you can put that in the record and underline it. I yield the floor,” Senator Graham concludes proudly.
“Your statement will be entered in its entirety for the record, Senator Graham,” Murray assures. “Senator from Minnesota.”
“Thank you Madam President,” Senator Amy Klobuchar responds. “I’d like to appreciate my colleagues who, despite our differences, believe in an ideal greater than ourselves, and larger than our political parties. That ideal is America.”
As Senator Klobuchar delivers her loveletter, an intern seated behind the rostrum snickers at his phone. He nudges an adjacent intern. “You have to see this,” he demands, handing over the livestream of a Trump rally in Summerville, South Carolina:
“I’ll tell you, I can’t think of anyone more pathetic than Lindsay Graham,” the former president wheezes before a crowd of red caps. “What a loser. Did you all hear what he said today? A very low IQ individual. He says he’s BFFs with Basement Joe and the Crooked Left because it’s common sense.” Trump scans the jeering crowd, gripping the podium. “Do you all have common sense? Well, you’ll have to tell him that next election.” The crowd cheers with erupting hatred. “He thinks we’re still friends…”
The interns stop laughing as Senator Cruz leans between them. “Did he mention me at all?”
“On November 19, 1863, one man delivered 272 words — ” Senator Klobuchar’s statement is interrupted as Senator Graham suddenly shoves his weight before the rostrum, yanking the microphone to speak. Senator Klobuchar protests, but is silenced by the South Carolinian’s clammy palm.
“Senator Graham, please step down from the rostrum,” Murray demands.
“Thank you Madam President,” Senator Graham continues anyways, his John Wayne cool only emphasized by his rapid speech and the expanding pit stains on his pewter suit. “I feel that further discussion of this ‘lightbulb’ deal is totally irresponsible in light of the Biden administration’s failure to address the southern border crisis and faltering economy — ”
“Senator Graham, you’ve already been given an opportunity to speak on this matter.”
“Madam President, with all due respect I didn’t make any such statement — ”
“In fact, you clearly stated your support to proceed with S.123, and even asked that we underline your approval in the record,” Murray reminds the senator, glancing at the transcript. “Again, I’ll have to ask that you step down.”
As northwing security approaches, the senator manages to shout “Four more years, T!” before being escorted from the Chamber. His cheerleading still echoes in the hallway as Senator Klobuchar prepares to resume her statement.
“Unfortunately your time has expired, Senator Klobuchar,” Murray clarifies. Before Senator Klobuchar can protest the injustice of it all, another sweaty man shoves his weight before the rostrum.
“Senator from Texas,” Murray addresses Senator Cruz.
“Madam President,” the mousse-slicked senator begins. “In 1776, our founders signed the Declaration of Independence and creamed the British no-problem. Together, we passed the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and everyone was completely chill about it. In 1987, Ronald Reagan spoke the four thunderous words that would demolish the Berlin Wall instantaneously. Don’t bother looking any of that up, because the media refuses to share this version of our history,” the senator enlightens those still listening. “These were fights for freedom, and so is this.
“It’s important to acknowledge, colleagues, that the American People have little power over the decision we make today. Bonnie from Butte, Montana has no say over whether we spend her hard-earned tax dollars on an approximately $13 fluorescent lightbulb, not to mention the service fee. So I ask you, as voters observe today’s proceedings, listening to us whine about an unlit break room while they’re struggling to pay rent, how do you think they feel? Frankly I don’t understand voters, but I’ll wager they’re pretty tired. Tired by the wasted time, the jejune behavior, and what our Nation could be if it weren’t this way. Tired because ‘These are the people in charge of our lives?’” Suddenly fearful he could be saying words — whole sentences, even — of substance, the senator backpedals. “Of course, I only assume these are things they think about. What I do know is, like the New World settlers and Eastern Berliners, Bonnie needs a champion. She needs us to fight for her values, to serve her interests. Therefore, my decision to halt proceedings on S.123 isn’t only convenient leverage for me; it’s for the American People. You’re welcome, Bonnie,” Senator Cruz smiles at the hypothetical voter. The transitioning Alaskan Bushman steps down from the rostrum, inviting Senator Cory Booker to speak.
“Senator from New Jersey,” Murray announces.
“Madam President. My original intention for these five minutes was to voice my support for S.123, and champion our majority leader’s urge for bipartisanship. I like to believe this Congress is capable of working together, despite our reputation.” Senator Booker pauses, practicing his mindful breathing. “However, after hearing Senator Cruz’s statement about ‘jejune behavior,’ I feel this time is better spent addressing the behavior of my colleague.”
Senator Booker withdraws a scrap of paper from his pocket, pinching it loathingly. “I found this on my windshield today,” he explains, before reading the note aloud. “It says, ‘quit the tough guy act, and let’s settle this like men. Any time, any place cowboy,’ with the postscript ‘your face looks better in the break room light.’” He glances at Senator Cruz, who glares back with the eyes John Wilkes Booth must’ve had waiting for “sockdologizing.” “It’s signed ‘your mom,’ but I’d recognize his scrawl anywhere. A United States Congressman, threatening me like a schoolyard bully.”
“This is a time, this is a place,” Senator Cruz taunts from afar. “…Cowboy.”
“Fine by me,” Senator Booker retorts with dignified storm.
“Well stand your butt up then.”
“I’m already standing my butt up, you stand your butt up.”
“I could kill you from a sitting position.”
“Senators, please!” Murray shouts. “Compose yourselves! Don’t the American People have enough contempt for Congress as it is?”
“He started it,” Senator Cruz sneers.
“I don’t like you.”
“I don’t like you triple!”
“Enough!” Murray demands, Senator Booker and Senator Cruz hissing like feral raccoons. “If you can’t get along, you can sit with Senator Graham on the cool-off bench.”
“No, Madam President,” Senator Booker surrenders. “When they go low, I go high. I yield the floor.” Senator Booker steps down from the rostrum and to his seat, giving Senator Cruz’s vulnerable ankle a jab on the way.
“All time has expired,” Murray announces to the relief of all present. “The question is, shall the motion to proceed to further consideration of S.123 be approved. The clerk will now call roll.”
The fate of the break room seesaws with each yae or nay response, as the clerk rattles off senators from Baldwin to Young. Meanwhile, Murray receives a notification — a new post from Vice President Kamala Harris. It’s a photo of Harper, woozy from surgery, with the caption “ruff day.” Damn it all, anyway, Murray curses under her breath.
Each senator having voted, the time has come to report their decision. “On this vote the yeas are 49, the nays are 51,” Murray announces. “The motion to proceed to S.123 is denied.” Senator Cruz sticks his tongue at Senator Booker, who pretends not to notice. Following the announcement, the majority leader approaches the rostrum to address the Congress once more.
“Madam President,” he grumbles. “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”
Having done all he could, the Republican leader leaves the Chamber, Schumer’s voice growing smaller as he walks. He passes Senator Graham on the cool-off bench, head burrowed in his palms as he argues with an advisor on speaker-phone.“He doesn’t even call anymore,” the senator sobs.
Eventually the hallway is quiet, the only sound the contact between rubber sole and marble. He finds himself before the break room, a dark hollow in the otherwise bright hallway. He’s gotten used to its bleakness. If there’s one thing he’s learned from his nearly 40 years in the Senate, it’s that you can get used to anything — Senator Cruz, for example. Gazing into the darkness, he can’t help but smirk. Not proudly; that isn’t a feeling he can justify. For a moment he’s held captive there, contemplating it. But, with places to be and be seen, McConnell moves along, still smiling to himself as he walks. Yes, he muses, you can get used to anything.
