Offing the messenger

 So it's been a couple of days since the President of the United States banished one of his vassals for giving him bad news about jobs, and, no, I'm not marveling at the gossamer thinness of the presidential skin. Nor am I wondering what he would have done to a certain boy in that famous (and newly relevant) tale about the Emperor's fake clothes.

The former is old news. The latter ... well, I figure he'd have sent the young teller of unfortunate truths to Sunshine Sobibor or some other fascist theme park. No wondering required for that.

No, I'm not wasting time on the obvious. I'm considering how the President's latest imperial wizardry could be transformed into a lucrative reality show -- a tip of the cap to the Prez himself, who once starred in his own.

I'm calling mine "Off The Messenger", and I'd pitch it to The Ocho, home of professional pillow fighting and other choice delights. Every week some poor slob would deliver an inconvenient truth to some completely detached-from-reality lunatic, and the lunatic would fire the poor slob or administer some other suitable punishment.

Why, just imagine the possibilities ...

Season One, Episode One: A Rockies Road

In the opener, the Colorado Rockies front office insists the club is getting better, developing new talent, building toward a future so bright they've gotta wear shades. Why, just look, in the last ten games, the Rockies have won five of them. That's half, by golly!

At which point one of the batboys points out the Rockies are still 50 games under .500 and a million light years out of first.

He's immediately demoted to Used-Jock Collector and staked out where the Rockies can hit line drives at his head.

The little smartass just laughs.

"Safest place in the ballpark!" he  cracks.

S1, E2:  Par For The Course

Tearing a page from the President's book, edible eraser mogul Burlingame J. Furlingame IV, 88, claims to have shot a 59 at Pinehurst and therefore was crowned the club champion for the 22nd straight year.

His caddy reminds him that his home course is not Pinehurst  but the Golden Walker Mini-Golf And Shuffleboard Emporium, and his latest score was 159, not 59.

"Why, you lying little whelp!" Burlingame cries, waving his cane and demanding the offender be shot at dawn for spreading harmful falsehoods about pillars of American manhood.

S1, E3: Milking The Moment

For the 23rd straight year, Paul Tracy insists he won the 2002 Indianapolis 500, and that means Helio Castroneves is only a three-time winner, not a four-time winner, and anyone who says otherwise is lying, lying, ly-

Oh, wait. That one's already been done.

S1, E 4: Ropin' Lombardi

For the 30th straight year, Jerry Jones insists the Dallas Cowboys WILL SO hoist the Lombardi Trophy at the Super Bowl, and anyone in the organization who so much as CLEARS HIS THROAT when Jerry says this will be banished to Cleveland or Jacksonville or-

Oh, wait. That one's already been done, too.

And last but not least ...

S1, E 5: A Horse Is A Horse

Breathable swimwear mogul Wellington Sterlington Livingstone III, 91, says his prize thoroughbred, Cornerstone, won the Kentucky Derby "three or four times," outran Secretariat head-to-head and beat Whirlaway in the 1985 Belmont Stakes to win a record fifth Triple Crown.

A groom then reveals Cornerstone ran so far back in his only stakes race he finished the next day, and that he was stuffed in 1975 but the staff put him back in his stable so the boss would think he was still alive.

"Why, you lying little whelp!" Wellington Sterlington cried, waving his oxygen tank and demanding the offending groom be drawn and quartered for spreading harmful falsehoods about a pillar of American horseflesh, and also for voting for a Democrat in the last election.