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"Amnesty is a big billboard, a flashing billboard, to the rest of the world that we don't really mean our immigration law."
-Richard Lamm
Due to some delays it had taken England and America some time to get to Arizona's house; in comparison, it took only a very short amount of time to get from Phoenix Arizona to the Houston airport.
"So where are we going from here?" England said as they exited the airport.
"Texas' house. But I have to go get my ride first." America replied.
"Get your ride?"
"My motorcycle. It's what I use to travel when I'm down here." Alfred explained. "Come on, I'll show you. The storage is only a few blocks away."
It only took them a few minutes to get to the storage building from the airport.
"Well, here it is," Alfred announced as he slid open the creaky metal door. "Oh good. Clay put it back."
Arthur peered around him, studying the shiny black machine sitting in the mostly empty storage building. "Clay put it back?"
"Clay is Texas' human name." America explained as he pulled down one of the helmets hanging on the wall and glanced over the three others. "He has key to this place too. And a key to the motorcycle." He selected one of the other helmets hanging on the wall and handed it to England. "This should fit you."
"And you have extra helmets because ...?"
"Sometimes one of the other states come down here with me." America replied. "I even brought Alaska down once."
"I bet that ended well," England said as he strapped on his helmet.
"The poor guy about died in the heat." America said as he tucked his rucksack into one of the panniers on the bike. "He doesn't come down so much anymore." He wheeled the bike outside the storage and then closed the door. "Well, let's get going!"
He slid onto the bike, and with a resigned sigh England got on behind him.
"How long is this ride going to take?" England asked as America turned the machine on.
"About an hour, after we get out of Houston," America replied. Then he revved up the motor and hit the road.
The trip did take an hour, winding first around the city or Houston, then onto the expressway and finally, onto a long, mostly deserted stretch of road.
Just before England was ready to ask if the trip was ever going to come to an end, they passed a stand of trees and started travelling parallel to a long wrought iron fence. About fifteen minutes after coming up next to the fence Alfred turned off the road and into a long driveway that led up to a tall, large white ranch house.
The fact that someone was banging with gusto on the front door was what eventually dragged Clay Thompson, personification of the state of Texas, out of his office and out to answer the door.
"Someone is banging enthusiastically on my door. It's either my stepfather or one of my siblings. I wonder which." Clay pulled the door open. "It's my stepfather. And England. Father, what brings you here?"
"I'm here to see Arizona."
"Oh, yes. Why he's camped out at my house is beyond me, but he's here. Follow me." Clay lead the way through the house. As they walked, Arthur noticed several flags tacked one after the other on the wall: a white flag with a single star, cannon, and the words 'come and take it' on it, then the Texas flag, the Confederate flag, and finally an American flag.
"Here." Texas said as he pushed open the door to his living room. Arizona was sitting in one of the chairs, listening to his mp3.
"Arizona!" America said as he entered the room, and the other state looked up from his music.
"Hey Dad. I didn't think you would come down here."
"Well I tried to find you at your house, but you weren't there." Alfred said.
"Yeah, New York and California are mad at me, and I didn't want to run into them. California I can handle, but I'm not sure about New York." Alejandro explained.
"I read your bill on the way down and I love it. but I think you will have trouble with it eventually."
"It's already started. California's trying to boycott me, and she's mad, and New York's mad too. It's crazy."
Sensing that America and Arizona would probably be talking for awhile, England turned to Texas. "Is there someplace I can rest here? Alfred and I have been travelling since this morning."
"Of course, follow me." Texas replied as he turned away and headed back down the hall, towards the stairs. "So, Mr. Kirkland, if you don't mind me prying into my father's business, what brings you down here?"
"I came over to the continent to visit Canada, and thought I would stop by and visit Alfred while I was here." Arthur explained as he followed Clay up the stairs. "Now I think I've really gotten mixed up in something."
"You probably have." Texas replied as he stopped outside a door and pushed it open. "You can use this room while you're here. If you need anything, my housekeeper is around somewhere, I'm in my office, and Alejandro and my father both know their way around the place."
"There is something I'd like to know." England said. "What is 1070?"
Texas sighed. "State bill 1070 is a bill my brother Arizona passed that enforces federal immigration law. And, he's getting a lot of grief for it. Illegal immigration is a real problem around here, and the bigger problem is that no one back in D.C. wants to combat it. D.C. himself doesn't want to combat it."
"D.C.?"
"The federal government is so large now it has it's own personification. D.C.'s main talents are interfering and redistributing money, though why D.C thinks he has to meddle everywhere is beyond me." Texas shrugged and turned away. "Anyway I have to get back to work."
Mexico. Located directly south of America, best known as a spring break spot for college students and for exporting illegal drugs and impoverished Mexicans to America.
Phillipe Santa Anna, personification of the nation of Mexico, was working at his desk when he received a memo about Arizona's new law.
"This is racist!" Santa Anna exclaimed, angrily reading the memo.
Fact: In Mexico, foreigners can be barred if it is believed that they will "upset the national equilibrium." How's that for racist?
"Of all the nerve! That arrogant worm dares throw out people who are just trying to make a better life for themselves!"
Fact: You're not welcome in Mexico if you have nothing to contribute, if you're not physically and mentally healthy, or have contempt for the Mexican government. By their own rules, no Mexicans who are in America right now would be allowed here.
There was a knocking on the door, and Mexico's boss came in. "Phillipe, I'm going to up to visit the American president in two weeks, and we will discuss this new bill of Arizona's."
"I will come with you." Phillipe said. "This ridiculous bill must not be allowed to stand!"
So, how do you say hypocrite in Spanish? I'm not sure, but I think I know how it's spelled:
M-E-X-I-C-O.
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T.A.R.N.S.: The Mexican hypocrisy is just incredible. You can read more on how they treat their illegals here in this post from Michelle Malkin. Texas' bio is up there under sticky notes. Anyway, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter.
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