DIRTBAG

 

September 29, 2026

There is a loud knock on the door to Missouri Senator Eric Schmitt’s office. The door swings open and Louisiana Senator John Kennedy barges in. The two Senators have a lot to talk about. 

“What in God’s name just happened in there?” Senator Kennedy is clearly irate.

“What do you mean? I just asked a question: Was Jack Smith in Atlanta on February 3, 2024. He said no. Case closed.”

“Oh really? Cut the BS, Eric. You blew it, big time. Accused Smith of perjury, then wound it all up by calling him a dirtbag. Turns out he wasn’t in Atlanta. He didn’t go to a Hawks – Warriors game. He didn’t meet Fani Willis. He was in freakin’ Maryland at a different game altogether! The damn media even has video clips of him at the Maryland – Iowa game.”

“Who knew he was a Caitlin Clark fan?” Schmitt smiles sheepishly.

“Obviously, you didn’t know. How did you get it so wrong?”

“Poor staff work, John. Believe me, there are three staffers who’ve worked their last day in this office.”

“Nobody thought to check Smith’s calendar? Or his travel log? Or the U.S. Marshals that were traveling with him? Or phone records? Holy crap, Eric! This is unbelievable.

“Okay, calm down. I’ll just laugh it off. It will all blow over in a day or two.”

“Oh, you think so? You, my friend, have become a ‘shit-heel,’ the guy who steps in dog doo on the way to work and then walks around all day with shit on his heel. The stink never wears off.”

“Hey, you jumped up right away to hold up the poster board, with a big proud look on your face. That makes you a shit-heel too.

“Oh no, I only stepped my toe in the doo doo. I can wipe it off by saying I was just trying to help my esteemed colleagues see the poster board. Nobody remembers the shit-toe, only the shit-heel.”

“Yeah, well we’ll see about that.”

“Let me ask you, didn’t you raise any questions when you saw that the emails didn’t mention Atlanta? Didn’t mention the Hawks or the Warriors? Certainly didn’t mention Fani Willis? Did none of that cause any concern with the conspiracy you were trying to gin up?”

“My staff was sure they had the story nailed.” Schmitt is downcast, staring at his desk.

“Let me guess—they got a tip from a ‘reliable source.’ And based on that, you put ’em to work on the poster board, plus dropping hints to Hannity and several podcasters, even scheduling a podcast appearance before the committee session had adjourned.”

“Okay, John, you’ve made your point. Take my word, it’ll blow over in one news cycle.”

“Don’t count on it, buddy boy. This one has legs. I think you have acquired a new middle name.” Kennedy frowns.

“And what is that?”

“Dirtbag. Good ol’ Dirtbag. You’ll forever be known as Senator Eric Dirtbag Schmitt.”

Kennedy turns and leaves the room, closing the door hard behind him. Schmitt scratches his head and wonders if he should call Hannity and see if there is a way to spin this story.

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