We, the members of the Congressional Tea Party caucus, present our first formal list of demands, which we will soon introduce on the floor as HR-666. Our nation is in peril and for it we can no longer stand. We face mounting debts at the state and national level, we have government entering every home, school and church in America, and we need change.

It was misty that Monday night. Fog hung thick over the Potomac. There was nary a sound for miles. The noise of reporters, camera flashes and Greek choruses had quieted. Streetlights changed color for no one, except perhaps the odd lobbyist scurrying into his trashcan. After all the speculating and graphing and rebranding and redistricting and speaking and speaking and speaking, the city was asleep. All were resting.All, except for one man.

“Don’t make me angry. You won’t like me when I’m angry,” spat Karl. He’d be damned if he let some senile old waiter bring out a tray of canapes without doilies. Without doilies! Might as well ration the butter and sleep with Stalin’s corpse.

It was morning in America—and Harry Reid was already having a bad day. Below is a day in the mind of the Senate Majority Leader.