Pinkie’s Statement in Support of Kavanaugh’s Accuser

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Commissarka Pinkie

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I’ve never met Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, but over the past few days, I feel as I’ve gotten to know her very well—well enough that I feel as if I could call her my friend. A very close friend who knows all of her secrets. Therefore, I feel more than qualified—indeed, I feel empowered!—to come forward and say that I believe everything she says. If she says it happened, then it happened! It must have happened, because everyone I know who has read or heard the story has been talking about nothing else since it broke.

Her account of what happened is so vivid, it’s as if I were there in the thick of it. Yes, every time I read about it, I am right there in the room with her and Kavanaugh and that other guy. Even writing about it, I can picture the scene in my mind. Those two guys on top of her, threatening her virtue. Threatening her life. And I’m standing there feeling helpless and terrified, wishing I could do something to help her. Then I remember that I never go anywhere without my shovel. It’s there in my hands. I must use it!

And so I do. I whack both Kavanaugh and the other guy upside their stupid heads, hard enough to beat them right off of her and send them tumbling to the floor.

“Go, Christine!” I shout. “Flee! Flee for your life! Flee for your virtue! Flee to the bathroom and lock yourself inside! And don’t ever tell anyone I was here. These guys have rich and powerful friends who could kill me in retaliation for what I just did!”

She flees. Her two assailants are crawling around the floor, moaning and groaning and spitting out blood and teeth. I raise my shovel over their heads. “Are you guys gonna tell anyone what happened here? Huh? Are you? Do you really want your stupid macho preppy friends to know you were bested by not one, but two girls? Huh? Huh?”

On his knees by now, Kavanaugh holds his hands in front of his face in a pathetic, protective gesture. He is totally afraid of my shovel. “No, I won’t tell anyone. Ever.” He spits out another tooth. “I thwear if anyone ever athkth me about thith, I will deny it ever happened and I know nothin’. Abtholutely nothin’!”

“Me too,” pipes in his friend. “Pleath don’t hit uth again with your thovel. We never thaw you before and we pray now to Thethuth Chrith our Lord and Thavior that we never thee you and your thovel ever again! Anyone ever athkth ’bout thith, I’ll thay I dunno wha’ anyone’th talkin’ ’bout!”

You see, comrades? Not only did it happen, but they even admitted at the time that if this incident ever came up in the future, they would deny it through whatever remains of their lying teeth.

Can you not picture all of this, the way I do? Surely you do! You must! You’re a bigot and a hater if you don’t believe I was really there, too!

Let me conclude by saying that I have no wish to testify before the Senate. My statement here should suffice. In the meantime, please visit my GimmeYourMoney page so my ongoing efforts to tell the Current Truth will continue to be fully funded.

This article is republished with permission from our friend Oleg Atbashian at The People’s Cube.