‘Sas good a time as any to affect
An appearance that may quicken this site.
We have no reservations, and the table
Is not set, for more dire endeavors,
Like bottle bottoms of Manischewitz,
Vow and vie for the rare currency of
My attention. Could this be confused with
Softness t’wards My Shell? Perhaps it will. She
Wrote with the ghost, never owned up, ‘cept to
Status shield with proportionality:
“It was less than fifty-fifty. Promise!
More like the sum of one to one hundred!”
I shall now return to my absence, but
Carry on watching the Malkins finger and
Dig their holy (and wholly glorious) holes.

‘Tis a brittle, long limb to tarry on.
To wit, for those drawn by sweet carrion:
They will fall victim to evil self-contrived.
Thus ends act four, I may return in five.

[Scene: Evening. A corner of a nondescript parking garage’s top level. Michelle Malkin enters, dressed unintentionally conspicuously in bright yellow trench coat and matching fedora/handbag combo. She appears perturbed, dejected, and paranoid.]

MALKIN

Am I late? Why am I even here?

[Bryan Preston enters.]

MALKIN

Bryan! What are you doing here?

PRESTON

You can’t do this, Michelle! It’s just too dangerous for such an angel of God! And if something happens to you, who’s gonna tie my shoes and give me daily sponge bath?

MALKIN

Shove it, you imbecile. I’m meeting a source — someone I trust.

PRESTON

Yeah, I know. You’re meeting with your mole inside La Raza! [Takes pompous pose.]

MALKIN

How do you know that?! Have you been looking through my closets again?

PRESTON

Uh huh… [Drools on himself.] But I also found this in my inbox yesterday. [Hands her a note, which she quickly scans.] They’re going to kidnap you and put you in a work camp for non-illegals.

MALKIN

This is written in crayon. And it’s in your “handwriting.” [Expressed with air quotes.]

PRESTON

At least let me put on your coat and hat until we can make sure it’s safe for your sweetness, Miss M.

[Michelle sighs heavily and acquiesces. He dons her hat, coat, and handbag. Michelle hides. Enter La Raza Mole (LRM).]

PRESTON

[Clears throat. Poorly imitating Michelle’s voice.] Hiya there. Are you my source? Wow. You’re almost as cute as my friend Bryan.

[LRM, immediately recognizing Bryan Preston wearing Michelle’s clothes, draws a large calibre pistol, shoots him once in the chest, once in the head. He drops a newspaper clipping (the beginning of this column) on Bryan’s corpse. LRM exits. Malkin approaches and spits on body. She picks up newspaper clipping and begins reading aloud.]

MALKIN

“Welcome to the revolution.

“There’s no point in hiding it any longer. The more observant members of society have already figured out that there’s a secret Latino movement under way to evict every last Anglo-European American from the Southwest and reclaim the land that Mexico lost in the Mexican-American War of the mid-1800s.”

The evidence I’ve been looking for! I’ll expose them tonight on The Factor for sure! People will take me seriously again.

[Michelle retrieves voice recorder from the coat on Bryan’s body and presses the record button.]

Note to self: Have Janet Murguìan framed for Bryan’s murder. Replace favorite trench coat.

[Michelle exits.]