It's July of 2020. Donald Trump's prospects for reelection aren't particularly hot, given that his approval rating has hovered near 40 percent for the last three-and-a-half years. Despite this, gloom is on the faces of two Democratic consultants—Ted and Fred—meeting for coffee at the Starbucks on K Street, NW, in Washington, D.C.
(No, the other Starbucks.)
(No, the other one.)
(Right, that one.)
Ted, bemused to find the name "Dredd" scratched on his cup, takes his seat at the two-top where Fred, a scowl on his face, closes his Washington Post. "Ruth Bader Ginsburg: 1933-2020" reads the headline above the fold, in massive type. A city, and the party that dominates it, is in mourning.
Ted: Who is named "Dredd," anyway? What is this, Mega-City One? Am I wearing a bulky police visor? Am I the law?
Fred: This is the worst day. Just the worst day.
Ted: Yeah, well, I'm sure the Republicans will uphold the Biden rule.
Fred and Ted exchange grimaces.
Fred: Would that it were so simple.
Ted: Well, what are the odds we convince Trump to pick someone good for us? Could sell it as a way for him to make inroads with moderates? Close that 15-point gap in the polls?
Fred: It'll never happen. I don't know if he knows he's finished—he was right and we were wrong last time—but I bet he knows he's finished if he stabs his base in the back with a RBG replacement who isn't a hard-line originalist.
Ted utters a low, guttural moan.
Fred: I still can't believe we got screwed on Eric Garland like that. If only—
Ted: Merrick.
Fred: —we'd stuck to [beat], what?
Ted: Merrick. Merrick Garland.
Fred: Are you sure?
Ted: Ayup.
Fred: [After a moment, brow furrowed] Who was Eric Garland?
Ted: You know, that crazy guy on Twitter?
Fred: So anyway, we got screwed on Merlin Garrick or whoever, got stuck with Gorsuch, and well, this sucks.
Ted: Maybe [takes a sip of his double macchiato] we shouldn't have pressured Schumer and the rest of the Senate to filibuster Gorusch?
Fred: We had to! For Derek Parland!
Ted: Well, I mean, I get it. Hell, I got it at the time. I was angry! I wanted revenge! Sure, it was obvious McConnell wasn't going to let the filibuster stop him—
Fred: As we nobly would have, bending to the tradition of the institution!
Ted: Heh, good one, but still, maybe, in retrospect, we should have kept that arrow in the quiver?
Fred: Certainly we could've used gutting Senate rules as a cudgel in one of the tight Senate races this year? Then we could've finally, maybe won control of the Senate?
Ted: Of course, we'd already have control right now if those Bernie Bro Jacotwats hadn't convinced folks to primary Manchin.
Fred: "What does it matter, he'd vote for Judge Napolitano, he's a squish, wahhh."
Ted: A goddamn 50-50 Senate.
Fred: "What does it matter, who cares who controls the Senate, there's no difference between parties, wahhh."
Ted: Sure, it'd be nice to be able to just shelve the Notorious RBG replacement—a little turnabout is fair play, you know? But hey: purity!
Fred: Ah well. At least President Chelsea Clinton will get to replace Kennedy.
Ted: Can you believe people believed her when she said she wasn't running?
Fred: A sucker's born every minute, my friend. Every minute.
