Inigo Montoya Learns To Curse

A few days after I bought Rock 'n Roll Is Dead, Phantom Cat and Madhouse played our last show in Chicago and then flew back to LA. Alan, Byron, and Miles returned to the studio to finalize their album, while I got started on my fifth album, as well as some interviews and photo shoots. National Nightmare spent some time promoting Catharsis Effect, which still wasn't doing terribly well. As a whole, October wasn't exactly the most exciting month, but everyone at Revelation Records got a lot done.

Something else was occupying my mind, however, and that was the upcoming presidential election. Ever since I was a teenager, I had been a strong believer in liberal politics, even if I wasn't quite as far to the left as some of my friends. Therefore, when Byron invited me over to his house on Election Day to hang out and sarcastically comment on the election results, I had to say yes. Just about every source I had looked at was certain that Clinton was going to win, and it would be fun to see Trump's reaction to his impending loss.

I listened to Tracy Chapman on my way to Byron's house, excited to watch the end of Donald Trump's political career. When I pulled into his driveway, I saw that Miles' car was also there, but not Alan's.

I climbed out of my car and knocked on Byron's door. "Hey Bianca," Byron said when he opened it. "How's it going?"

"Good," I said.

Byron led me into his living room, where Miles was already watching the news. The living room was a mess in the way that most homes with young children are. There was an overflowing toybox in the middle of the room, and Serenity's princess dresses were strewn across the hall. "Did I miss anything?" Byron asked.

"Not really," Miles said. "None of the polls are closed yet."

"Okay," Byron said. "You know, I've missed doing this. I don't think we've snarked over anything since we watched Invasion of the Killer Platypus together."

"That was hilarious, by the way," Miles said. "I'll never forget the musical number right in the middle of the final battle."

"Didn't they ask you to contribute vocals to that song?" Byron asked.

"They did," Miles said. "The film crew didn't realize that Alan wasn't the lead singer, and when they figured it out, they asked me to sing for him. I didn't want to be associated with that movie, so I refused."

"You should have said yes," Byron said. "Invasion of the Killer Platypus was a brilliant movie."

"In a horrible way," Miles said.

"Exactly!" Byron said. The two of them started quoting Invasion of the Killer Platypus incessantly, and since I hadn't seen the movie, I didn't have much to contribute to that discussion. Instead, I watched the news, hoping to hear some news from the election.

"Hey guys, the polls just closed in six states," I told Miles and Byron. "Trump's winning in Indiana and Kentucky, and Clinton's winning in Vermont."

"I sure hope Hillary wins," Miles commented. "If she doesn't, I'm moving to Canada."

"Me too, but here's the good news," Byron said. "If Trump wins, Alan will get sent back to Mexico."

"Is Alan really an illegal immigrant?" I asked.

Byron shrugged. "I've known him since he was in college, and I still don't know," he said. "He's told me that he was born in San Diego, but he's occasionally claimed that he's from a small village in Mexico. The tabloids seem to be convinced that he's an illegal immigrant, and I'm not sure if I believe them or not."

All of a sudden, I heard a squawk coming from the next room. "What's that?" I asked.

"That's my parrot," Byron said. "Would you guys like to see him?"

"Sure," I said.

Miles and I both followed Byron into the next room, where a large green bird rested in his cage. "His name is Inigo Montoya," Byron said as he took the bird out of his cage. He looked towards the parrot and said, "Repeat after me, Inigo. Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Inigo Montoya remained silent, and Byron sighed. "It was worth a try," he said. "I've been trying to teach him to say that for the last year, but he doesn't seem to want to talk. Let's go back to the living room."

Byron, Miles, and I returned to the living room, along with Inigo Montoya. Nothing of note had happened yet, so the three of us made fun of Trump, while Inigo Montoya interjected a few squawks.

"What do Donald Trump and Pink Floyd have in common?" Miles asked.

"The Wall," Byron answered. "We've heard this one before."

"Stop stealing my punchlines," Miles said.

"Well, you need to come up with better jokes," Byron said.

"What's going on in here?" Sara asked as she entered the room.

"I invited Miles and Bianca over to make me feel better about being a rich, heterosexual white man and bashing Donald Trump," Byron explained.

"Got it," Sara said. "Just remember that Serenity goes to bed at eight, so you guys will need to keep it down after that. Can I get you some snacks?"

"I'll handle that," Byron said. "Thanks for checking on us, Sara. I love you."

"I love you too, Byron," Sara said.

Sara left the room, and Miles said, "So the only reason we're here is to make you feel better about your white guilt?"

"Not exactly," Byron said. "I just figured that the two of you could provide better political commentary than Alan."

"Anyone can provide better political commentary than Alan," Miles said.

Byron shrugged. "You're right about that," he said. "I'm going to make some popcorn. Let me know if I miss anything."

Byron left to make popcorn and came back a few minutes later. While taking a couple bites of popcorn, I told Byron, "Apparently Trump's saying that election is rigged again."

"He also said that his campaign didn't take away his Twitter account," Miles added.

I rolled my eyes. "He's lying again," I said.

"If we can't trust him with a Twitter account, we obviously can't trust him as president," Byron said.

Hours passed by, and more and more states announced their election results. "Breaking News On Key Race: It's Still Too Close To Call," I read off the screen. "How is that breaking news?"

Miles shook his head. "I don't know," he said.

"Seriously?" Byron shouted at one point. "The electoral vote is 104-140 right now, and Trump's winning. How is this possible?"

"Trump's not going to win," Miles said. "It's just not possible."

"You guys are watching this election like most men watch sports games," I observed.

Byron shrugged. "What can I say?" he said. "Politics is amusing."

"I have to agree with that," I said. "This is pretty fun."

A few hours and a whole lot of popcorn later, Serenity entered the living room to say goodnight to Byron. "What's going on, Dad?" she asked as she glanced towards the TV.

"We're waiting to find out who the new president is going to be," Byron said. "Don't you worry about it. Are you ready for bed?" Serenity nodded. "Great. Goodnight Serenity. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad," Serenity said. "Goodnight!"

After Serenity left, the newscaster stated the Clinton had won in California and Trump had won in Idaho. Although we were glad that Clinton won in our home state, the election as a whole was looking worse and worse for us. By 10:30, all three of us were frantically Googling "move to Canada."

"The site crashed!" Miles shouted. It wasn't just him. The site had crashed on my phone too.

"I think it's just because every racial, religious, gender, and sexual minority in America wants to immigrate to Canada," I commented.

"And a few people who don't fall into any of those categories," Miles said, gesturing towards Byron.

"I'm a Christian Buddhist," Byron said. "Doesn't that make me a religious minority?"

"You're just trying too hard to find some way to deal with your white guilt," I said.

Over the next hour, Trump won Florida, Iowa, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania, and at about midnight, the newscaster announced that Trump had won the election. "I...I can't believe this is happening," I said, staring at the TV.

Meanwhile, Miles had started going on a rather long and extremely profane rant that I won't recount here. "I didn't know you had that many swear words in you, Miles," Byron commented when Miles had finally finished.

"I'm just really angry over this whole thing," Miles said. "Why is America so horrible?"

"I don't know," Byron said. He started to say something else, but he was interrupted by Inigo Montoya, who had begun to speak.

"Fuck Donald Trump!" the bird said, and to everyone's horror, he recounted Miles' entire rant.

"Seriously Miles?" Byron said. "Now Serenity's going to be listening to this. Let's try teaching him something else. Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Inigo Montoya simply repeated his previous statement, and Byron shook his head. I took the opportunity to thank Byron for having me over and leave the house. On my way home, fear began to set in. I was terrified of what Trump would do as president, so I drove home in stunned silence, hoping that this was all nothing more than a bad dream.