Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Starring Wayne LaPierre as Ralphie

Like most Americans, I fell asleep in front of the TV this holiday with A Christmas Story in endless loop on TBS.  I have that inalienable right as an American.  While watching Ralphie and his quixotic quest for a Red Ryder 200-shot range model air rifle with compass in the stock, I couldn’t help but dream about another man’s quest for access to the weapons of his dreams.

A Christmas Story starring Wayne LaPierre, NRA executive mouth piece

Opens with shot of downtown decorated for the holidays

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  Ah, there it is. My house. And good old K Street. How could I ever forget it?

And there I am, with that dumb round face and that stupid stocking cap.  But no matter. Christmas was on its way.  Lovely, glorious, beautiful Christmas around which the entire kid year revolved.

Downtown Washington was prepared for its yearly bacchanalia of peace on earth and good will to men.  Wal Mart's corner window was traditionally a high-water mark of the pre-Christmas season.  First nighters, packed earmuff to earmuff, jostled in wonderment before a golden tinkling display of mechanized, electronic joy.

Wayne, hunters, and sportsmen pressed up against window glass

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  Wow, there it is.  The holy grail of Christmas gifts. The Red Ryder 200-shot range model air rifle.

And there he is.  Red Ryder himself.  In his hand was the knurled stock of as coolly deadly-looking a piece of weaponry as ever I had laid eyes on.  For weeks, I had been scheming to get my mitts on one of these fearsome blue-steel beauties.  My fevered brain seethed with the effort of trying to come up with the infinitely subtle devices necessary to implant the Red Ryder range model air rifle indelibly into my parents' subconscious.

It was at this very moment that I vowed to spend my life fighting any forces that would infringe upon my future ownership of this, or any other, weapon of death or the high capacity magazines that make them special.

Maybe what happened next was inevitable.

Wayne’s Mom:  Wayne, what would you like for Christmas?

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  Horrified, I heard myself blurt it out.

Wayne:  I want an official Red Ryder carbine action 200-shot range model air rifle...and the unlimited inalienable rights to the future ownership of high capacity magazines to support the defensive purpose of my beloved weapon.

Wayne’s Mom:  No. Shoot your eye out…and high capacity magazines are unnecessary for hunting or adequate home defense.

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  Oh, no! It was the classic mother and liberal pacifist-loving-BB gun/gun control block.

Wayne’s Mom:  You'll shoot your eye out...and potentially kill dozens.

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  That deadly phrase uttered many times before by hundreds of mothers and hippies was not surmountable by any means known to kid-dom or the vast Right Wing-dom.

But such was my mania, my desire for a Red Ryder carbine and unfettered future access to the guns and ammo of my choice that I immediately began to rebuild the dike.

Wayne:  I was just kidding. Even though Flick is getting one.  And criminals can get them anytime they want.  I'd just like some Tinkertoys.

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  I couldn't believe my own ears. Tinkertoys?  She'd never buy it.

Wayne’s Mom:  BB guns are dangerous.  Statistically, you are 12 times more likely to be shot if you own a gun than not.  I don't want anyone shooting his eye out...or shooting dozens in a violent rage.

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  Mothers know nothing about creeping marauders burrowing through the snow toward the kitchen where only you, and you alone, stand between your tiny huddled family and insensate evil.

Wayne’s imaginative dream sequence begins with Wayne dressed as a cowboy

Wayne’s Dad (from under the kitchen table):  Save us, Wayne! I just knew those bad guys would be coming for us in the end!

Wayne:  Don't worry, Dad. As long as I got OI' Blue...What've we got here, folks?

Wayne’s Dad:  Well, we figure it's Black Bart, Wayne.

Wayne:  Well, just me and my trusty old Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle and my high capacity extra clip.  Lucky I've got a compass in the stock. 
Well, I think I better have a look here.

Bad Guys (holding pro-union picket signs):  Oh, no!  It's OI' Blue!  Oh, no!  Cheese it, boys!

Wayne’s Dad:  There's another one! He's a dead-eye, ain't he?

Black Bart:  Okay, Wayne!  You win this time, but we'll be back!   

Wayne:  Adios, Bart.  But if you do come back, you'll be pushing up daisies!  And don't you forget it!

Wayne’s Dad:  Well, son, you saved us!  We were goners for sure! And you saved us!

After a brief commercial break, we open with young Wayne sitting in school

Wayne’s Teacher:  Now, boys and girls, I'm going to give you an assignment.  I want you to write a theme.  "What I want for Christmas."

The clouds lifted.

Wayne’s Teacher: And I want it handed in tomorrow morning (she slides her jacket aside to reveal the Glock she carries to protect herself and to occasionally threaten the children)

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  I saw a faint gleam of light at the other end of the black cave of doom.  I knew that when my teacher read my magnificent, eloquent theme that she would sympathize with my plight and everything would work out, somehow.  Today I had serious work to do.

Wayne thinking and writing

"What I want for Christmas."

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  What I want is a Red Ryder BB gun with a compass in the stock and this thing which tells time.  And the unlimited inalienable rights to the future ownership of high capacity magazines to support the defensive purpose of my beloved weapons.

Wow, that's great.

Wayne (writing):  I think that everybody should have a Red Ryder BB gun….and the unlimited inalienable rights to the future ownership of high capacity magazines to support the defensive purpose of my beloved weapon.  They're very good for Christmas.  I don't think that a football's a very good Christmas present….although the gun metaphors in the game of football are very much appreciated.

(Wayne’s Voice Over):  Oh, rarely had the words poured from my penny pencil with such feverish fluidity.  I've won! I've won!

Now I am ready for my Meet the Press interview.  I might be crazy, but I think it’s going to be great.


I woke up in a cold sweat.  It wasn’t a nightmare.  This really happened!  I can only hope that the story has a happy ending for the country.  For the record, air rifles for everyone is fine with me.

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