Where’d Bill Cassidy Get Dat Dere Conscience?

Sometimes people do courageous things. And sometimes people do things once thought normal and sensible, but when done in the context of the times appears not so normal, but all so courageous instead. Sen Bill Cassidy showed courage and consciousness.

Like the day when Big Bill Cassidy went stomping through the swamp with his conscience firmly in tow. People marveled. People were appalled. It was the first time in a long time that anybody had shown such a disregard for self preservation. And shown an inclination toward the long lost bipartisan way.

Sen Bill Cassidy Shows Courage and Conscious

The way had been all but snuffed out during the Obama years. Then President Trump came along. In 4 short years, President Trump drained what was left of the swamp’s soul, finally turning what was once a bustling cacophony of sound into a vast, hollow echo chamber. When Trump shouted the call, the response was automatic. So you can imagine that when Big Bill strolled up talking all out of tune, people were appalled. And people marveled.

“Where you going with dat dere conscience of yours, Big Bill Cassidy? Ain’t it supposed to be in President Trump’s pocket?” 

“I’ve taken mine back,” Big Bill said. “And I plan to use it for the important vote at the capitol tomorrow.”

“You mean the one the Democrats concocted to sell President Trump out?”

“No. I mean the one to finally hold him right for all his wrongs.”

Big Bill stopped and placed his foot firmly on a stump. “It’s been too long,” he said, “too long of pride swallowing and groveling. Too much kowtowing and voting in the opposite interest of those we’re supposed to represent. And for what? I don’t know if you noticed. But things haven’t been made all that great around here.” 

Big Bill Cassidy Shows Courage and Conscious

As Big Bill marched along word spread around the swamp. He wouldn’t do it. That when the time came there’d be a big no way, no how. In private, many people had vowed to stand up to President Trump once and for all, to finally take the swamp back. But those thoughts were never made public. It couldn’t possibly be that Big Bill was different, could it?

But just in case Bill had a little too much cayenne up his boots, a swamp full of lobbyist tempted him with promises of unlimited donations and funding. Compromising pictures were pulled from underneath lily pads. Intricate mazes of moss and pine were spun. Still, Big Bill marched on with resolve, swatting away distractions like mosquitoes on a June Louisiana night.

“Head as hard as unschucked oyster,” one person said as Bill walked by.

“Sellout,” yelled another.

Panic set in. “If Big Bill goes up there and does the do, Democrats could get control of dis here swamp. Then you know what’ll become of our beautiful bayous and marshes?”

“No. What?”


Finally the day came. Legend has it that when Big Bill reached the capitol, he stood up and cast his vote with no sign of hesitation. Afterwards, he appeared on all the talk shows. Big Bill was lauded and held up as a man of principle, honor, and courage by most in media.

Back at the Louisiana swamp, his constituents were fuming. “Big Bill,” one swamp man said, “what you went up dere and did stank like day old crawfish juice.” 

“All I did is what I should’ve been doing all along,” Big Bill said. “I followed my conscience.”

The head of the state swamp committee then pushed his way through the crowd and stepped forward. He had a sheet of Spanish Moss in his hand. “Bill Cassidy,” he shouted, “we are gathered here today to sternly wag a finger at you. It’s our formal statement of disapproval. In some parts, people call it a reprimand.” 

Big Bill took the paper and looked at it. “What is this, a spell?”

The head of the committee snatched the paper away. “Yeah, one that’ll be cast in six years when we primary you.”

That threat kind of got to Bill. He couldn’t deny it. Primaried. The curse of curses.

But for one day at least, Bill went home a hero. His kids tackled him at the door. His wife clapped and smiled. They all thought about commemorating the day. The day when Big Bill Cassidy came stomping through the swamp, his conscience firmly in tow.  Snakes trembled out of their scales. Alligators shook into sausages. Crawfish burrowed deep in the mud. For the first time in a long time a man had come walking through the swamp, trying to give it its old glow.

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