TED 

"If you want someone to grab a beer with, I may not be that guy," Cruz said at a Republican debate in October. “But if you want someone to drive you home, I will get the job done and I will get you home."

Hi there! Good evening! My name’s Ted. Wilkommen to mein auto.  I “ought-o” warn you, though, that the music selection is not up for debate. But if it was, I’m pretty sure we’d still end up listening to Smooth Country. Ha-ha, just joshing. I’m very sure. I’m an unbelievable debater, ut patet per the fact that I’ve convinced you that you aren’t allowed to choose the music. Of course you are! You’re paying for the ride! Listen to whatever you want: Smooth Country, Christian, or Country.

Look at your faces! You’re, like, “Uh-oh! Who is this guy? Some kind of Borat?!” Well not to worry: my jokes stop where decency starts. So relax, buckle up, and enjoy “Cruz-ing” to your destination.

You gals have fun tonight? Great, that’s great. And you know, it’s wonderful that you didn’t try to drive yourselves home. So many young ladies of your generational cohort lack that kind of personal responsibility, I’ve found. Not that I know many, per se, but you hear things. You hear things, and you form opinions, and I’m one who believes that an opinion, once formed, is un-amendable, like our Constitution should’ve been.

Speaking of which, you’ll find copies of our founding documents in the seat back pockets.  I think it’s important to remember where we came from so that we know where we want to go back to. Yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition, and, no, I’ve never been to prison. Ha-ha! See, I’ve been told my intellect can be intimidating, so I like to pepper my speech with colloquialisms and shibboleths to put people at ease. I hope it’s working on y’all, ‘cause Daddy’s driving for tips!

Anyhoo, that was quite a busy club I picked you up from. Quite the scene. I’m guessing there was some imbibing that took place this evening? And young lady in the rear passenger side, that’s not a guess. Sister got sloppy, am I right, friends? Maybe had a couple too many, maybe danced suggestively and polyamorously? Oh, you all did? I must say I find that troubling.

Well, yes, technically I guess it’s quite literally your “fucking business,” but I’ll leave the profanity to the profane and the pornography to the New York City artists and simply posit that it is a fact undeniable that the family is the bedrock of our society, and every cocktail spilled on the floor of a seedy night club stains that hallowed ground. Every dance floor dry hump erodes it. Every booty shake is a seismic event, rattling the windows of our nation’s ideal, heteronormal, two-parent, two-child home. So I ask you ladies-

Okay, this traffic is horrible, and Waze wants me to take the expressway. You good with that? Super. And look at this: wide open. Even if it’s a little longer, I always like to keep moving forward. That’s just how I am. High school, had to get to Princeton. Then – boom! – onto Harvard Law. Forward, Ted, forward. Clerking for Rehnquist, getting elected Senator, running for President, winning the Iowa caucus…

Yep, that’s me. Corn King of the low information evangelicals. And then, well, you know the story: we eventually got to the states with black people and lesbians and dangerous percentages of college graduates. One thing led to another, Heidi invested my Super PAC money…a squidge too aggressively, bless her heart, it happens, no anger. Well, there was a little anger. Things were said.

But forward I go, as I always have. And can I tell you, I’ve never been more at peace. I mean, I genuinely like driving, it’s a hoot meeting new people, and the flexible hours help keep me out of the house “at least four nights a week,” per Heidi. Bless her heart.

How’s the temperature back there? You want me to turn up the- Whoa! Okay, okay, check out this guy in the Camry. Don’t all stare at him! Just be cool. You generally see a lot of turbans in this part of town? I know I don’t. Do me a favor and read me Mohamed’s license plate so I can call it in. Really? And what part of protecting America do you object to? You see, ladies, just like the many abortions you’ve no doubt enjoyed, freedom isn’t free. Men like me have to fight for it – either with military service or blistering oratory, the two being of equal manliness. And do you know how we fight for your freedom?

Oh go back to sleep, rear passenger side, I’m not talking about walls. Okay, actually, I am, in a sense – but not big, beautiful, border walls.  Freedom requires smaller walls – like wells, sort of – around everyone who doesn’t have the correct American beliefs that Jesus had. That’s how you protect freedom: by limiting it, aggressively, for millions of wrong-thinking people.

Well, center back seat, that’s easy. An example of  “wrong thinking” would be putting on those hooker heels earlier tonight and going, “Yeah, these look good.” But here I go, blazing away with my verbal six-shooters. You just got me all riled up, and I went back into campaign mode. Mea culpa. So… what’s up with Serial? Do you listen to it? Is it good?

…And here we are at your destination. You’re right, rear driver’s side, it’s not your home. It’s a police station, and I’m sure you all deserve to be here for something: wacky weed, oral copulation, just let the desk sergeant know. I’m going to go hit the Civic Center. There’s a concert letting out soon, and if I time it right I bet I can rip two fares, easy.

And ladies, remember, no matter what our differences, I believe we can – no, we must – reach across the ideological divide and find common ground… in giving each other five stars. Good night, and God bl- whup! There’s a call. Gotta jam.