Democrats: “C’mon, man!! You used to be so cool, like in college when we’d play beer pong then puke all over the sorority girls!! C’mon!! High five!! Give me another couple trillion dollars so I can go guy some more Jaegermeister and Red Bull shooters!!1! I’m out, and I’m still not wasted enough!”
Republicans: “Dude, you’re trashed. You don’t need any more booze, and there’s no way I’m lending you another couple of trillion. You haven’t paid me back the last trillion you borrowed. And, surprisingly, you don’t have a job because you’re an irresponsible drunk, living on borrowed time and money, so you can’t pay me back anyway.”
D: “Brah! You’re totally harshing my mellow! If you’re not gonna lend me the ducats, China will! China’s totally cool with my little problem! What happened to you, man?”
R: “I grew up. I realized getting drunk every night and borrowing money from China screwed my credit rating and ruined my future. Hey! Where do you think you’re going with those keys?”
D: “If you’re too bogus to lend me a couple trillion, China will. I’m totally driving over there to get my money, so I can get me some more PBR, dude! Anyway, no worries. China will never make me pay that money back.”
R: “Gimme those keys, there’s no way you’re in any condition to borrow more money from that loan shark China, much less drive there.”
D: “No way, man! I’m gone!”
/gets in fully leveraged 2011 GM-built National Economy, starts engine, drives into nearest irrigation canal, drowns.
And that, my friends, is why friends don’t let Democrats borrow money.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.