Politics & Other Mistakes: Heigh ho, it’s off to work we go

In place of this week’s column, here’s a selection from Gov. Paul LePage’s “Big Book of Maine Fairy Tales:”

Once upon a time, there were seven dwarfs, industrious souls from Connecticut, who commuted regularly to Maine to sell drugs. Their names were D-Money, Smoothie, Shifty, Grumpy, Dopey, Justin Bieber and El Chapo.

Look, I know you think I’m insensitive, but “dwarf” is the medically and politically correct term for human beings with certain conditions, although some parties with these diagnoses prefer to be called “little people.” I went with “dwarf” in homage to the Brothers Grimm and not in an attempt to offend. But if I did, I apologize half-heartedly.

I also want to make it clear I’m not making inferences about the dwarfs’ race, just because they sell drugs, come from southern New England and have “street” nicknames. I have no reliable information on the ethnicity of the first five, outside of police reports and Disney cartoons, but I’m pretty sure El Chapo is Hispanic and Justin Bieber is a space alien.
Anyway, after the diminutive smack peddlers arrived in our fair state, they weren’t content merely to dispense their wares to junkies and school children. Once their tiny purses were filled with gold, the dwarfs wanted a little (oops, sorry) action.

It was then they encountered Snow White Girl. Again, there’s nothing racial being implied here. Mr. and Mrs. Girl, members of the Aryan Nation, named their child Snow White for reasons of their own. So keep your liberal speculation to yourself.

Our heroine (as opposed to the dwarfs’ heavily cut heroin) was as pure as new-fallen snow, but, as the old expression goes, she drifted. It wasn’t long after her dalliance with the dwarfs that she found herself with child. Alas, the father of her baby-to-be (most likely Smoothie, although it could have been Shifty, Dopey or even Justin Bieber) had flown south and couldn’t be located. Snow White Girl was forced to go on welfare and became a burden on Maine taxpayers.

In her shame, Snow White Girl fled to a hovel she was able to rent with Section 8 vouchers and General Assistance cash. There, she subsisted on TANF, SNAP and MaineCare benefits, plus the occasional generosity of a couple of Democratic state legislators, two corrupt Land For Maine’s Future board members and a selectman from a nearby town. Also, D-Money stopped by a few times to make up for what he missed.

Snow White Girl would have continued to live as a parasite, except for the intervention of Queen Mary Mayhew of the Welfare Kingdom, who looked into her magic mirror and demanded to know who was the fairest of all when it came to dispensing favors. The mirror replied:

“Whilst you shield your gifts in rule and regulation,

Snow White Girl freely engages in copulation.

She looks but little the worse for wear,

Thanks to government-funded health care.”

At this, the Welfare Queen turned white with rage, and it took some time for her to extricate herself from the racial implications. By then, Snow White Girl was preggers again (a DNA test identified the dad as the selectman, although a discrete cash settlement kept that information private) and was in line for a sizable bump in her public-assistance benefits.

This gave Queen Mary an idea. Disguising herself as a social worker, she showed up on Snow White Girl’s doorstep with a fruit basket containing an apple poisoned with fentanyl-laced heroin obtained from a guy named Slicky-Poo in exchange for making a few drug-related charges vanish. Upon eating the apple, Snow White Girl fell into a coma, whereupon the Queen ordered her children taken into state custody and her benefits cut off, thereby saving the taxpayers big bucks.

That might have been the end of our tale, but for the arrival of a prince, who spied Snow White Girl’s comatose form, dismounted from his horse, injected her with Narcan and kissed her lips. She awoke and immediately sued him for sexual assault. Awarded a huge court settlement, she retired in luxury to a state with far lower taxes than Maine, where she lived happily ever after.

If you’re a sucker for a happy ending as much as I am, email aldiamon@herniahill.net.