Last night, as Rachel was reporting on Mitt Romney's fantabulous fundraising in the Hamptons this weekend, I thought to myself, wow, I want to read THAT novel. All those Bentleys, all those blinged-out one percenters, that heady mix of entitlement and rage. Where's Jane Austen when you really need her? And the line "Is there a V.I.P. entrance? We are V.I.P." could well become the defining comment on our times.
So if it waddles like fiction and quacks like fiction, why fight it? The time to write Romney Hamptons Fundraiser Fan Fiction is now. Here's what came to me:
As diamonds of twinkling sunset light danced over Georgica Pond, Geoff Apthorp IV sat idling behind a line of Bentleys, Ferraris and Range Rovers. He sighed contentedly. "You made it, kid" he thought. "The Romney Fundraiser. Tonight Geoff Apthorp IV finally runs with the big dogs." He checked his Patek Philippe 5070 chronograph. 7:35 p.m. It was a good watch, he told himself. Hell, it was a great watch. But would it be good enough for tonight? Good enough for the big dogs? A moment of doubt clouded Apthorp's chiseled features -- and if there was one thing Apthorp hated, it was doubt....
Now it's your turn. Write us a short (short, please!) excerpt from your Great American Romney Hamptons Fundraiser Novel and we'll post the winners tomorrow. Enjoy!
(Image: Unless You're Rich or Playing Polo.../@underwhelmer)