Sam Apple wrote the winning entry for Hemisphere’s Faux Faulkner contest, starring George ‘Georgie’ Bush and friends:
“Hush now,” Dick said. “This aint no laughing matter. He know lot more than folks think.” Dick patted me on the back good and hard. “Come on now, Georgie,” Dick said. “Never mind you, Rummy.”
We walked down steps to the office. There were paintings of old people on the walls and the room was round like a circle and Condi was sitting on my desk. Her legs were crossed.
“Did you get him ready for the press conference?” Dick said.
“Dont you worry about him. He ll be ready,” Condi said. Condi stood up from the desk. Her legs were long and she smelled like the Xeroxed copies of the information packets they give me each day.
“One afternoon in late autumn two gypsies came into the café, a ragged old man and his daughter. She carried a crystal ball between her arms. They went table to table telling fortunes. Soon they came to him. Dark eyes stared at his palm, then into the ball. Two fair arms well cradled it in her lap.
“Guapa, I am not one for whom the ball tells—” he started, but she put a finger to his lips.
Nice going, but Hemingway’s too easy a target. Faulkner’s harder to catch this side of parodies.