OOC: For the politically disinclined/sane people, this promo is a parody of this: Biden's Brain Fart

Biden Campaign HQ-Philadelphia

Uncle JOOOEEEEEEE!

Madison squeals in delight, casting off her designer sunglasses as she jogs into the room as fast as her Italian pumps will take her, bypassing the strange looks from a gaggle of interns and phone bankers as she does so.

Joe Biden turns towards her, half his face covered by an ominous black pandemic mask. Madison doesn't even get to within six feet of him when two stuffed shirts immediately block her way. A third voice calls out and enters the room. It's a stern faced looking woman, Biden campaign chair Jen O'Malley Dillon.



Please sir, we have to limit your exposure to those outside your bubble. And Madison, you're NOT wearing a mask.

Madison feigns concern, bringing her finger tips to her lips as if to confirm she is not, in fact, covered up. Oh shoot, I must have left it in the car.

Ahhhh HOOOEY! Biden announces irascibly, pushing his way past his impromptu wall of masked interns. It's just Madison! Come here sweetheart! Come here! Joe holds his arms open for a hug, which Madison eagerly jumps into. Joe buries his nose in the nape of Madison's neck and draws in an audible sniff. Madison smiles awkwardly as he does so, but says nothing. Mmmmmm.....

Biden holds onto Madison for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, Madison disengages with a light chuckle. Uncle Joe, it's so great to see you. You look....healthy?

Of course! I'm healthy as a horse! He pounds his chest with a tight, anemic fist and stumbles backwards. Thankfully, the aides catch him before he falls. Jen walks up to them, accusing eyes glowering at Madison from above her custom Covid mask that features kitties batting around a ball of pink yarn.

Well, how about we make an announcement! Then, bringing his hands to his mouth, he calls out. Everyone, gather 'round. We have a new addition to the team! The interns comply in short order, forming a semi-circle around them. Joe is at the fore, and he gestures at Madison. Everyone, this is Madison Dyson. A strong, independent Black Woman! Everyone accepts this instantaneously thanks to years of social justice conditioning. And she is here to help us improve our relations with the Black Community. Madison, wanna say a few words?

Of course! Beaming, she steps up next to Joe. First off, I just wanted to say how thrilled I am to be working with you all. Now, to address the “elephant in the room”....Madison says this with a sort of playful awkwardness in a funny voice....some of you may be slow to trust me given my history. I realize I will have to earn that trust! I accept that! But rest assured, I absolutely would not be here if I didn't think Trump was going to be a colossal failure. It's tough to tell if anyone catches on to the implicit conclusion to be had there. So, let's all roll up our sleeves and REALLY “make America great again!” She turns back to Joe, who is suddenly sporting one eye that is shot through with blood. Madison gasps but Joe doesn't even seem to have noticed.



Does anyone else smell toast? Ha-HAH!

Later!

Madison is standing beside Jen O'Malley Dillon as Joe is getting mic'ed up. Numerous expensive looking television cameras swarm around him. An intern brings up a stool for Joe to sit on, which he eventually manages to perch on precariously.

Ok Jen, let's see what you got. Madison intones without sparing her a glance.

For the record, I'm one of the ones that doesn't trust you. She spits back from beneath her kitten mask.

And for the record, you have some serious man face goin' on, and a jawline that looks like it could slice diamond.

Fuck you.

Heh heh heeeehhhhhh, you're just mad because I'm better at it than you.

Jen finally turns to consider Madison with disdain. I will NOT allow you to undermine the work I've put into this campaign!

Madison returns Jen's fire, looking particularly smug. Undermine? Why would I want to undermine you, Jennifer? I want Biden to WIN.

But why? The Democrats are against everything you've ever stood for.

Madison's lip coils up into a half smirk. Are they though? She sighs and trains her sights on Biden as a backdrop is rolled into place behind him. The backdrop looks something like this.



Madison quickly ushers a hand up to her lips to conceal a cackle threatening to break free. Oh Jen...oh Jen! **Snrkt** I'm already rock hard!

Jen seems to shrink now in Madison's presence. You haven't even heard him speak yet!

Is that a fucking pay phone?!

Quiet on the set! Quiet on the set, everyone!

A hush draws over the assembly as the cameras train their sights on Joe Biden. Biden sits upright, smiling in that weirdly crooked old man way that brings to mind a half grimace instead.

Hello African America, I'm Joe Biden. But you can call me Uncle Joe. And I'm here to set the record straight on how I feel about THE BLACKS.

He said “the blacks”....he just said “THE blacks”.... Madison's expression is a warped dichotomy of horror and sadistic glee. She prods Jen's shoulder as she continues to affix her gaze to the slow moving multi-casualty train wreck unfolding before them.

I LOVE YOU GUYS! Uncle Joe beams, unspooling his spindly geriatric arms into a facsimile of a hug. And as for what I said before about how “you ain't black if you don't vote for me”? Well, I apologize. That was insensitive. Because what I meant to say is if you're black and don't vote for me, you're .

Oh boy....oh wow.....

Anyhoo, to show you that I'm not just lame-o old guy, and that I'm actually pretty whickety-whickety WHACK....

Madison, clutches Jen's shoulder now with a vice like grip, using her to hold herself aloft in the face of this...this....THIS.

….I'm gonna tell ya'all a story from my time growing up in THE HOOD. Biden places an unusual and emphatic emphasis on “the hood”. Yes, I too grew up in a rough area. Why, it was a 20 mile walk to the nearest nickelodeon and my only lullabies as I fell asleep were the crack-crack of shootouts between bootleggers and federal agents!

Ohhhhh fuck, bootleggers! Madison announces more loudly than she intended, pinching over at the waist and looking like she's not certain whether she wants to laugh or cry.

So there I was, 14 year old me, the only white boy working at the five and dime. I was a bag boy you see, but back then you had to carry your groceries out in burlap sacks! They were rough on your hands, gave you callouses the size of a gumball. Anyhow, the five and dime was under near constant assault from this local gang of ruffians, some real rude dudes. They were always trying to shake the store down for money! They were led by this real bad dude named Candy Corn, and he always had his boys Pork Rind and Cool Ranch Doritos with him.

Now the shop was run by this real nice lady, my favorite negress of all time....

Madison wheezes and looks like she's going to keel over.

….I don't remember her real name, but I called her Aunty J, short for Aunt Jemima, on account of that's who she looked like....

I'm gonna stroke out. I'm gonna fuckin' stroke out.

So one day I was like, “Aunty J we gotta do something about these rude dudes! They're stealing all our nickels and dimes! And you're not gonna be able to feed none of your eight babies if this keeps up.”

Madison collapses to the floor, and Jen steps back, looking shocked and fearful.

So we cooked up a plan to scare 'em off for good. Aunty J said she had the ticket, and that she knew exactly what these boys would be afraid of the most! So the next day, when they rolled on in and tried stickin' us up...we just handed them job applications and said “a hard days pay for a hard day's work!” Biden chuckles. You wouldn't believe how fast these boys ran! Turned out they were most afraid of hard work! Boooy howdy....he shakes his head, one eye looking wistful and the other still looking like it literally just exploded inside his skull.

So that's my story African America, and I'm stickin' to it! By the way, I'm giving ya'all Kamala Harris! Not the wrestler, though. Now play that song about the drowned cats! I heard you guys like that song.

Madison picks her head up off the floor. “Song about the drowned cats”?



Madison suddenly pushes herself back up to her feet. NooooooOOOOOOOOOOOO! She rushes up to Uncle Joe and places her hands over his ears. Stop! SHUT IT DOWN! SHUT IT ALL DOWN! And you! YOU THERE!

One of the camera operators points at himself. Me?

Yes YOU. You are personally responsible for ensuring that none of this footage ever sees the light of day. If it does I will actually MURDER you! As the song screeches to a halt, Madison removes her hands from Joe's ears.

Madison, did I do something wrong?

No, Joe. You didn't do anything wrong. She looks at Jen imperiously. She did.

What?! How dare you! Jen blurts out.

No, how dare YOU! You were about to destroy Uncle Joe's campaign! Uncle Joe, trust me, as a sworn representative of The Black Community, I am telling you that Jen's campaign tactics would have made them hate you!

Oh no! Well, what do I do?

You need to fire Jen and hire me as your new campaign manager.

You BITCH! Jen starts stomping towards Madison, but she's held back by two particularly strapping interns.

Joe grabs the back of his neck, looking pained. Jen, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to let you go. If its any consolation all those times I said I enjoyed smelling your hair I was lying. You don't use conditioner and might have ringworm. It's.....kinda gross.

ARRGGGHHHHHHH! Jen lets out a primal scream of fury as she's dragged away and out of the building.

Joe breathes out a deep sigh and Madison pats him on the shoulder. His body bucks forward a bit and Madison deftly moves to steady him. You did the right thing Uncle Joe. Don't worry, with me by your side you'll have the urban vote locked in for sure.

Thanks Madison, you are a true and loyal friend.

Madison gives a little bow. My pleasure! Now why don't you go ahead and tell the rest of the team the good news. I got some personal business to take care of.

Joe scratches his head. What good news?

That....I'm.....your new campaign manager. Madison trots it out slowly, betraying some annoyance.

Oh! Right! Yeah! Good idea! Joe heads out to meet with the rest of the team and Madison watches him go, giving her eyes a little roll.

With that done, Madison eyes the fake payphone affixed to the background that Joe was using for his aborted stump speech. Madison smirks. Bbbbbbrriing! Bbbbbbbrrriiing! Oh, what's that? It seems like someone is calling! Whoever could it be? Madison marches over to the phone and lifts it out of the cradle into her ear. Queen of the XWF, Madison Dyson speaking! Her mouth irises open in an “O” of surprise. GURRRRL! Where you been at?! People been looking all over for you! Madison turns towards the camera and points to the phone. It's Atara Themis! And then, back to the phone.

So, really, what happened? You just up and disappeared.

…..

Ya huh.

…...

Yeah.


…...

Sitting at home with Fuzz and crying together in his trailer? Yeah, that seems pretty on brand for you both. But honey, listen. You knew this was going to happen. You knew that I was going to verbally gut fuck you with a rusty shank, sending you into a hopeless oblivion of self loathing. What you're doing now is doing you NO favors. The least you could have done to save a modicum of face was puff your chest out, show a highlight reel of pretty pictures and pretended to not be an emotional wreck. But because you haven't even done that much you...well....you kinda proved that everything I said about you was dead on.


…...

Yeah?


…....


Madison sighs and rolls her eyes. No....no....I don't want you to leave the XWF.


…....


Yes, I mean that! Look! Are you ever going to hit my level? Of course not. But if this new women's division that Roxy is touting is ever really going to be a thing, we need girls at all levels of the card to round it out. Okay? I mean, otherwise Jenny Myst and Melanie “Crayzee” Childs are going to get real lonely down there. They need the company. Or else they'll get desperate and start lezzing out or something for attention.


…......


You still there?


….......


Honey, just ignore him. You know as well as I do that Fuzz threatens to kill himself like 17 times a day. He's never actually gonna do it.


…......


Okay. Good.


….....


Madison lets out a HUGE protracted sigh. “Do I think you have even the slightest chance of hitting my level?” Madison looks around as if hoping inspiration will appear out of thin air. She rubs the bridge of her nose.


…........

I'm THINKING!


….....


Okay, here's the brutal honest truth. Is there a tiny off hand chance you could ever match or, God forbid, surpass me? In the sense that just about anything is possible in the XWF....sure. I mean the over under on it is about a million to one. But COULD it happen? Meeeehhhhhhh.....I guess? But look, you're never gonna get anywhere pulling this sad sack shit, throwing your hands in the air and just GIVING UP, alright? And this is the problem with you. You've been coddled in the XWF for too long, getting praise and titles heaped on you just for showing up and looking pretty and having pretty promos. But your ring game is even weaker than mine and quite frankly, you just don't have the backbone to hack it in a place as psychotic and casually cruel as the XWF.

BUT! And I can't believe I'm about to say this....there's a tiny chance you could improve. But if you're serious abut improving, you need to give up everything you once knew about the XWF. Scratch that, everything and EVERYONE. Fuzz is just enabling you. He's not doing you any favors.

So, I'm gonna give you this one time offer. Come and work for me. I'll train you up, straighten that backbone, and show you how to be a real baller ass bitch! I'm serious! This isn't a trick. But for the love of God you GOTTA dump Fuzz to the curb!


…....


Okay? So what if he spazzes out and goes into a bipolar meltdown? Don't let him gaslight you into staying weak and ineffectual. I CAN HELP YOU, ATARA. But you need to LET me.


…....

Fine, take some time to think about it. But not too long, I got a busy schedule.


…....


No, I'm not going to take it easy on you on Saturday. I'm still gonna turn your ass inside out. But how well you take that beating will tell me a lot about what I have to work with. Holla at me bitch if you ready to take that next step.


…....

Fuzz is STILL crying? Yeah, well, sometimes you gotta let the baby cry it out. Sitting in pissy pants for a few more hours won't kill him. 'Later.

Madison hangs up the phone and mouths “wow” to herself. Then, putting on her game face, she throws her arms out to her sides in a grandiose manner, slathers on a beaming smile and starts walking towards the adjoining room, ready to accept the adoration of the multitudes.