Franken-Lies-And-the-Lying-Liars-Who-Tell

ME: Sure.
RICH: Do you fight a lot?
ME: No, I have actually never been in a fight. But I wrestled in high school and I'm pretty confident
I could beat you. Then again, I'm fifty and have a bad back. But I think I could take
you. At any rate, I just don't want this "Democrats have sissified politics" to stand. So, I
want to fight you.
RICH: Can I take a day or so to decide?
ME: Sure. Take your time. I just figured anyone who said that Democrats had sissified politics
would kinda have to fight.
RICH: I understand. How about if I sleep on it?
ME: Absolutely. I'll call you tomorrow.
RICH: Okay, sure.
It was an extremely satisfying phone call. Sizing Lowry up on TV, he seemed just a tad on
the wimpy side, which had only been confirmed by his reaction: terrified. I was just a decent
high school wrestler, but I was convinced I could take him down, then basically punch his
ears till he called "uncle."
Later that day, I happened to tell my son, Joe, about the call. He thought it was a bad
idea. "Dad, if he turns you down, he's going to feel like a total wimp."
rats."
"That's the point, son. I couldn't allow him to challenge the manhood of us Democ-
"Yeah, but it's not nice. If he says he won't do it, promise me you'll tell him you were
kidding."
“Why?".
"It might make him feel like he's a little more off the hook."
"Okay, if he backs out, I'll tell him I was kidding."
"But if he accepts?"
"I'll kick his ass," I said. Frankly, I think Joe was kind of impressed.
"Dad, he's like seventy."
"Not him. The guy he's talking to."
The shot cut to Lowry, and the moment my son saw him, Joe scoffed, "Aw, this guy?
He's a wuss."