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Don’t Tease The Panther — Glenn Beck’s Sizzling Hot Teabag Thriller

Sizzling Hot Teabagging On Bookshelves Soon

by digby

I think Ayn Rand’s position as the greatest right wing romance novelist ever may be in jeopardy. Glenn Beck’s new novel is hot!

Media Matters reports:

First, a quick summation of the plot, such as it is. The protagonist, Noah Gardner, works for an impossibly powerful public relations firm in Manhattan that has been the driving force behind pretty much every political and cultural movement of the 20th century. Their latest and grandest scheme is the culmination of a lengthy plot to change the United States into some sort of ill-defined progressive plutocracy, and the catalyst for this change is a nuclear explosion that will occur outside the home-state office of “the current U.S. Senate majority leader,” which happens to be at the same address as Harry Reid’s Las Vegas offices. The nuclear attack is to be blamed on the Founders Keepers, a Tea Party-like group — led by Noah’s love interest, Molly Ross — that is working to foil the plot.

1. Rule number one is: “Don’t tease the panther”

Noah and Molly find themselves in bed together early in the book after a harrowing experience at a Founders’ Keepers rally. They agree to sleep in bed together because Molly is too scared to sleep at home, but Molly insists that nothing sexual will take place. Noah agrees, on the condition that she “not do anything sexy.” She presses her cold feet against his legs, and Noah responds:

“Suit yourself, lady. I’m telling you right now, you made the rules, but you’re playing with fire here. I’ve got some rules, too, and rule number one is, don’t tease the panther.”

Read on — only if you are alone (or in a government office.)

I don’t know what the cover finally turned out to be, but this was an early choice:

Update: Oh God:

I don’t know about the rest of you, but after I kiss the girl of my dreams for the first time, the very next thing I want to do is discuss with her the virtues of the flat tax:

He bent to her, closed his eyes, and her lips touched his, gently, and again more urgently as he responded. He felt her arms around him, her body yearning against his in the embrace, a knot like hunger inside, heart quickening, cool hands at his back under the warmth of his jacket, searching, pressing him closer still. With everything to see and hear around them there at the very crossroads of the world, soaring billboards, scrolling news crawlers, bright digital Jumbotrons that lined the tall buildings and blotted out the whole evening sky, it all disappeared to its rightful insignificance, flat as a postcard. That place was left outside their small circle, and if asked right then he might have stayed there within it forever. But he felt her smile against his lips as they were brought back to where they stood by the brusque voice of a passing man, who advised in his native Brooklynese that maybe they should go and get a room.

A light drizzle had begun to fall, and down the block they found a coffee shop with two seats by the window where they could wait out the patch of rain. When he returned from the counter with their cups he found her sitting with a folded newspaper, not reading it but lost somewhere in her thoughts. It was a while before she spoke.

“Noah?”

“I was starting to worry you’d forgotten I was here.”

Molly took a deep breath and seemed to collect herself for a moment.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“If we hired you, your company, what would you tell us to do?”

He frowned a bit. “You mean if you and your mom hired us?”

“It’s more than just the two of us, you know that. A lot more.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “What is it you want to accomplish again?”

“We want to save the country.”

“Oh. Okay. Is that all?”

“That’s where we start, isn’t it? With a clear objective.”

“That’s right.”

“So?”

“Okay. Let me think for a minute.”

Molly had become deadly serious; this wasn’t party talk. She didn’t take her eyes from his as she waited.

“I guess;’ he said, “I’d begin by sitting down with all these different groups and trying to focus everyone on the things they agree on — the fundamentals. A platform, you know? Make it easy for people to understand what you’re about. Propose some real answers.”

“Give me an example.”

“I don’t know-start with the tax code, since your mom is so passionate about that. How about a set of specific spending cuts and a thirteen percent flat tax to start with? Get that ridiculous sixty-seven-thousand-page tax code down to four or five bullet points, and show exactly what effects it’ll have on trade, and employment, and the debt, and the future of the country.”

This actually makes Atlas Shrugged look good.

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