Washington found itself wrapped up in another made-for-cable-news showdown this week after Senator Tom Cotton announced he would introduce a motion to remove Senator Elise Slotkin from the Senate Armed Services Committee.
Cotton argued that Slotkin’s recent conduct has made her unfit to continue serving on one of Congress’s most important committees.
“Every time she sits down, I cringe,” Cotton told reporters gathered outside the Capitol. “A member of the Armed Services Committee should be supporting our troops, not creating political theater every time funding comes up. Americans deserve better.”
The Arkansas senator said the committee has become increasingly dysfunctional, with debates lasting longer than some military deployments and procedural motions multiplying faster than federal acronyms.
Capitol Hill staffers, meanwhile, described the atmosphere as “tense but somehow also incredibly boring.”
“It’s amazing,” said congressional analyst Joe Barron. “You’ll have twelve cameras outside because everyone expects fireworks. Then they walk into a committee hearing and spend three hours arguing over commas in a funding amendment.”
Barron said Congress has reached the point where lawmakers no longer filibuster legislation.
“They filibuster each other’s lunch breaks.”
According to Shirley “Skip” Henderson, a union electrician replacing light fixtures in the Capitol basement, senators aren’t nearly as intimidating when they think no one’s listening.
“I was changing out fluorescent tubes,” Henderson explained, “when I heard somebody upstairs yell, ‘Order! Order!’ Then another voice yelled back, ‘I’ll order when you stop ordering me to order!'”
“I’ve wired chicken coops with better organization.”
Meanwhile, Capitol cafeteria cashier Linda Morales says senators often reveal more standing in line for soup than they do during press conferences.
“They’ll spend fifteen minutes telling reporters everything’s under control,” she said. “Then they get to my register arguing over who forgot to initial page seventeen of some amendment.”
“The broccoli cheddar soup hears everything.”
An elevator mechanic named Curtis said he accidentally became part of the story after repairing a stalled elevator carrying several congressional staffers.
“They thought they’d be stuck for hours,” Curtis recalled. “Within five minutes somebody admitted they couldn’t remember what half the funding provisions actually did.”
“One aide suggested solving the disagreement with rock-paper-scissors.”
Curtis says the elevator started working again immediately.
“I considered trapping them for another ten minutes just to see what else they’d confess.”
Adding to the confusion, a Capitol janitor claims he found three color-coded strategy binders sitting beside the recycling bin.
“One was labeled ‘National Security.’ One was labeled ‘Messaging.’ The third just said ‘Pretend To Look Concerned.'”
He returned all three untouched.
“I didn’t want to interfere with democracy.”
By Thursday afternoon, reporters had become so overwhelmed by conflicting statements that several accidentally interviewed a tourist dressed as Benjamin Franklin.
According to witnesses, nobody noticed for almost twenty minutes.
The fake Franklin reportedly offered a comprehensive twelve-point solution to the committee dispute before admitting he was actually a substitute history teacher from Ohio.
As for Cotton’s proposal, congressional observers expect weeks of debate, multiple procedural votes, at least six televised press conferences, and approximately four hundred fundraising emails declaring the republic hangs in the balance.
Joe Barron believes the outcome is impossible to predict.
“In Washington,” he said, “everyone insists they’re fighting for the country. Then the microphones turn off, somebody asks where they parked, and they all end up lost in the same Capitol hallway.”
God Bless America.
