The Great AlaMiss War

The young television reporter wiped dust from his face and sighed. “The war! The Godforsaken war! My hair! My messed-up hair!” he thought as explosions rocked the battleground in front of him.  The $25,000 he earned wasn’t worth this.  He had seen more battles than Brett Favre had retirement parties.  He gazed at  the fighting with disbelief.

He motioned to his cameraman to film the mobile home exploding far in the distance.  “That one was in Alabama!” the cameraman shouted over the roar of incoming fighter jets. Reporter and cameraman hunkered down in their  foxhole just outside of the Quitman, Miss. (the current front-line of the battle). The Great AlaMiss War had taken such a bloody toll.  But why? Why had they gotten to this hellish place.  Another mobile home exploded. “Manufactured housing is really having a bad day,” he thought.  It was like a tornado outbreak on a steamy Southern Spring Sunday. The reporter pulled his glove off and flipped through his notebook.

January 19, 2011: It all started over illegal immigration.

The Mississippi Legislature was fresh into its new session and since there were no other pressing issues (like the economy, education and poverty) the topic of illegal immigration had quickly jumped to the front of the legislative agenda.

“We must have an Arizona-Style immigration Bill!” proclaimed Lt. Gov. (and Gubernatorial candidate) Phil Bryant.  It had been like flicking a lit match into a fireworks tent.  First came the debate in the Mississippi State Senate.  Then came Bryant’s next statement, “We must protect our borders!” Senator Joey Fillingane immediately jumped to his feet and echoed, “We must protect our borders!”

All Hell broke lose.

The new Governor of Alabama, coming back from his “Apologize across Bama tour”  took offense at the statement.  “What do you mean ‘PROTECT OUR BORDERS?'” he screamed.  Then came the shot heard around the world — The Alabama Legislature declared war on Mississippi.  Meridian was destroyed after a  Pearl Harbor-style sneak attack. The Queen City was crowned. The U.S.S. Alabama, taken out of mothballs in the middle of the night, shelled Biloxi, Gulfport and Bay St. Louis.  Cam Newton fought for Alabama after his dad couldn’t get a deal to fight for Mississippi. Tupelo fell like Michigan at the Gator Bowl. Governor Barbour, trapped at a fundraiser for Sarah Palin’s dog in Iowa , could not get back to Jackson in time to lead a counterattack.  So Lt. Governor-now-General Phil Bryant took charge of the Mississippi National Guard.   Guard troops counter attacked Tuscaloosa, attacking the Alabama campus and picking up ribs at Dreamland.  General Bryant, dressed like Patton in front of a giant Mississippi flag, yelled, “NO GUTS, NO GLORY. Pass the BBQ sauce!”

Louisiana, hungry for recently banned fake bath salts, massed millions of Nutria on the Southern border.  Troops from Camp Shelby blockaded I-55 and I-59 South. Mississippi was quickly facing a two-front war.  General Bryant pushed toy tanks on the giant war map in the middle of the State Capitol.  “We will not tolerate illegal Alabamans and Nutria sneaking into Mississippi and stealing our jobs.”  He prepared the nuclear codes.

The young reporter saw the flash out of the corner of his eye.  “What the…” The shock wave flipped him over the card table and knocked the breath out of him.  And it messed up his hair even worse. Demopolis was gone now.  He saw the missiles pass overhead from the strike and counterstrike.  Mushroom clouds rose over Hot Coffee, Mendenhall, Hoover and Anniston.  Chickens were fried in Scott County. Next, the Toyota and Mercedes plants were obliterated.  Then the capitals of Jackson and Montgomery went kaboom.

In his bunker, General Bryant and the Senate popped a cork on a bottle of alcohol-free Champagne.  “No more illegal Alabamans will be stealing Mississippi jobs!”  they cheered.  The borders were secure.  The Great AlaMiss War was no more.