By Lumpy the Mongoose (PTR) – The presidential campaigns are getting nastier by the hour, and the latest salvo has been fired by a group of patriotic fellows who feel their years of loyal service to the flag entitle them to criticize the leadership skills of would-be President Kerry.

Yes, the Paddleboat Veterans for Truth, the brave men who fly the rubber duckie flag over the red and blue 4-man paddleboats of  Lower Biscuit Lake just outside Minneapolis, Minnesota, say that John Kerry’s service as a swift boat pilot in the Vietnam war is highly suspect.

“That Kerry doesn’t know a thing about valor,” said Captain Ted McSwindy, “Where was he in the Great Fried Cheese Stick Offensive of ’78?” The other paddleboat vets gathered around and nodded in agreement. The Great Fried Cheese Stick Offensive of ’78 was the greatest battle in Lower Biscuit Lake paddleboat history.

It started one muggy morning, when Captain McSwindy and his loyal shipmates climbed into their steadfast craft, the Mary Lou, and paddled determinedly to the middle of the lake, on the lookout for any sign of trouble.  They soon found it.

A line of paddleboats, driven by members of the Lower Biscuit Lake Ladies Auxilliary, formed on the other side of the lake. They flew the dark flag of the Little Girl Duckie With a pink bow in her hair.  The Ladies, seeing several handsome sailors on the sparkling Mary Lou, decided to entice the men to a lovely picnic on a nearby island by waving delicious fried cheese sticks in the air and shouting, “Hey there, Handsome! Wouldya like a nice cheese stick?”

Captain McSwindy and his men froze, shocked. Seaman Potter, sitting in the reverse position, lost his head for a moment and yelled back, “You betcha!” Captain McSwindy smacked him upside the head.

“It’s a trick,” said the Captain. “These ladies, they’ll tempt you with those cheese sticks. But let me tell you something boys, all they want is to seduce you and strip you of your freedom. Beware the peril of the Little Girl Duckie Flag.”

Seaman Potter felt his stomach growl. Captain McSwindy gave him another smack. Seaman Potter, who had avoided military service by feigning double vision, held his growling stomach and imagined himself caressing a fried cheese stick.

The ladies craned their necks to discern a response from the boatfull of strapping sailors. Hearing none, they decided to move closer. All at once, the Ladies advanced toward the Mary Lou.

Suddenly, Captain McSwindy, in a moment of panic, yelled, “Where’s John Kerry?? Where’s John Kerry when we need him?? Oh God Almighty, where is that long-faced boy from Yale?”

Seaman Potter asked innocently, “Who the hell is John Kerry?”

Captain McSwindy smacked Seaman Potter upside the head one last time, knocking him out of the boat. Potter doggie paddled across the lake and climbed into one of the Little Girl Duckie Boats, where he was taken prisoner and forced to enjoy endless quantities of fried cheese sticks and foods inappropriately covered in bacon.

Back on the Mary Lou, Captain McSwindy lectured his remaining recruits. “I knew he was a turncoat. Saw him reading Harpers. All right, boys, this is it. It’s up to us. I say we flank ‘em on the right, and then hit ‘em from behind.”

Seaman Olsen whispered, “uhm, sir, we only have one boat.”

Captain McSwindy paused, considering his own greatness. “And what a boat she is, boys, what a boat she is. This is gonna be a one shot deal.”

And then, as the still water of the satin pond shimmered in the midsummer sun, as the herons and egrets looked on and the beavers packed their dens for the winter, as the boy scouts slipped by in their canoes, merit badges jangling in the breeze, Captain McSwindy and his boys made their last stand on Lower Biscuit Lake.

Years later, tales of that final battle still reverberate through the bowling alleys and ballroom dance halls of Minnesota. The crash of paddleboats. The swish of rubber duckie flags, girl and boy, flying through the air. The glug-glug of the Mary Lou as she sank below the six-inch waves. The delighted screams of the Ladies as they pulled the strapping sailors into their laps. And later, the clanging of the wedding bells at the Lower Biscuit Lake Lutheran Church, where the Ladies made their triumph complete by shackling their hapless prisoners in wedding vows.

Captain McSwindy still cannot forgive John Kerry’s traitorous absence on that fateful day. Though he had never met Kerry, he had read a report of the young officer’s exploits in the Far East in the newspaper, and would never forgive him for leaving the Mary Lou to fight alone.  Interviewed at his lakeside home, Captain McSwindy’s continuing hardship was all too obvious, as three obnoxious teenagers played video games in his living room and his jailer from the Ladies Auxiliary spooned freshly baked hot dish into a tupperware container for his later consumption before she rushed off to her nightly yoga class.

The Kerry campaign refuses to answer the Paddleboat Veterans' allegations of cowardice and abandonment. In fact, they responded to this reporter’s inquiries by asking, “is your mother home?” Such stonewalling can only go on so long, as voters are likely to go along with the Paddle Boat Veterans, and demand The Truth.

5:38:17 AM