The lighting rig creaked as Ted Cruz kneeled atop the metal trusses. Thousands of people rustled beneath him, mumbling to each other about thugs and ISIS and welfare between mouthfuls of popcorn and soda. These were Ted’s kind of people. He used to fill town halls and lecture halls full of wide eyed, white skinned, blue collared Americans like these. They would come for miles to hear him preach the American truth. About how his family heard the sweet song of Lady Liberty and pierced through the iron curtain to fall into the warm embrace of her bosom. About how, with nothing but sticktoitiveness and and the grace of God Almighty, he overcame adversity to seize his dream, one which is shared with all young patriotic boys; becoming a Junior Senator from Texas.
But they weren’t here for Ted. Ted couldn’t fill a minivan these days because of him. That’s why he had to die. Read more