I am certainly not the type of guy who becomes a Project Veritas victim or the subject of one of their dubious stings. I am a graduate of Yale and the Colombia Journalism School who has worked for some of the world’s most prestigious media organizations and networks. I even have a couple of Pulitzer Prizes under my belt for my reporting. Being a Project Veritas victim could never happen to me – so I thought…
It was a Friday night, and I had a long week being part of the media crew working on the Great Reset production.
I decided to go to my favorite Chevy Chase pizzeria with some friends to unwind over beers and pizza. Not only did this place have the best pizzas Inside the Beltway, but it was also popular with the local college and Catholic high school cheerleader crowd. Since my girls were out of town with my soon-to-be ex-wife, maybe I would get lucky and score some hot college girl or cheerleader takeout.
I got there early in the evening and sat down at my usual table with some friends and acquaintances. Not long after I arrived, I noticed two young blond girls come in. Let’s refer to the one young girl as Miss Cleavage as, well, that’s what I first noticed about her when she walked in…
Now let me explain something to anyone Outside the Beltway: When it comes to cleavage Inside the Beltway, we all live by a modified George Costanza rule:
IF it walks upright and has cleavage, you can not only look at it, you can bang her because, well, anything with cleavage is bangable! (And having cleavage means she’s at least hit puberty…)
Of course and thanks to all that “me too” crap stuff, some things have changed Inside the Beltway since the days of waitress sandwiches. Those types of sandwiches are now frowned upon, and not getting her permission before turning her into one can get expensive these days. And you can also be fired for that now – although this is highly unlikely when you play on the right team as I do (plus my media employer has “me too” insurance coverage).
Then there were those Project Veritas son-of-a-b*tches and their undercover stings of media figures. Everyone working in Inside the Beltway media had just gotten a memo warning us to be careful of what we said around catty chatty strangers and alcohol as it could be a Project Veritas set-up.
Anyway, while I was eyeing Miss Cleavage, she and I suddenly locked eye contact. Then while looking in my direction, she whispered something to her friend (who, by the way, also had decent cleavage and was thus bangable).
I decided to play it safe and let her make the first move. Besides, I was thinking she’s probably age 14 or at least still in a Catholic high school. That and in our new “me too” age, it’s definitely better to let the girl make the first move. Luckily, millennial and sub-millennial girls are usually the ones who make the first move with guys. This was especially true with the college and Catholic high school chicks that frequent this Chevy Chase pizzeria.
Well, I was in luck (or so I thought…). Miss Cleavage confidently walked over to my table and, with a look of wonder, said to me: “Didn’t I just see you on TV last night talking about January 6th?”
“Yep,” I bashfully replied, “I’m that guy!”
We quickly got to chatting as there was no harm in having a friendly chat with a young lady who had just seen me on TV. Miss Cleavage told me she was a graduate student studying mass communication at a local university. Her dream was to be a journalist working for a national media network like mine.
I was honestly a little disappointed with Miss Cleavage being a graduate student – meaning she was closer to age 24 than age 14. But what difference does it make? She looked younger than her age, was a (natural) blond, had nice cleavage, and was clearly interested in my journalism work. She was unlike my own teenage daughters, who just roll their eyes and look at their phones when I try to discuss the importance of my journalism work with them.
In hindsight, there was one thing about Miss Cleavage’s story that did not add up, and I should have realized it. She wanted to play on our media team, but she did not look like Joy-Ann Reid or Rachel Maddow. As I said, this chick acted like she was definitely into men and had cleavage. She at least had the right balance of cleavage (an overabundance) and the minimal amount of brains necessary to get herself on Fox News.
But Miss Cleavage did not come across as vampish like that nut job Ann Coulter. Don’t get me wrong – I am not saying that Ann Coulter is not bangable. It’s just that she is a vampish nut job, and that’s a turnoff for an Inside the Beltway media guy like me. That, and everyone knows she’s a real cougar who has been banged by half the security guards in this town as she can’t otherwise get laid…
“You are so brave to have been at and survived January 6th!” said Miss Cleavage. She was obviously in awe of being in the presence of a national media figure like me.
“Yea, that January 6th was a traumatic experience alright!” I rolled my eyes. “As Sandy Cortes said, I thought I was going to die! I did not know if I was going to make it to the end of that day alive, and not just in a general sense, but also in a very, very specific sense…” I started cracking up laughing.
Good thing that I had minored in theater while in school. My dramatic acting and theater skills come in handy whenever I am on TV talking about January 6th. They also come in handy when I pick up naïve impressionable young chicks like Miss Cleavage…
“Tell me what really happened?” Miss Cleavage gushed. “I would love to hear the inside story!”
“First, can I buy you a beer?” I coyly asked.
“Oh, I would love a beer or maybe two!” Miss Cleavage giggled before flinging her blond hair back and adjusting her cleavage… I could tell they were already getting perky! Heck, I was already getting perky too! I could have turned her into a waitress sandwich right there on a pizzeria table!
Maybe, after a couple of beers, I could invite Miss Cleavage for some late-night takeout. If all goes well, I could offer her an internship where I could groom teach her the ways of the Inside the Beltway media world. Then I could have her over for regular takeout when my girls were away with their mother.
Well, we did A LOT of talking that evening. Maybe I talked too much while under the influence of a few too many beers … Look… Like every other guy out there, I say A LOT of sh*t after a few beers when I am around bangable blond cleavage! I don’t actually remember everything I said to Miss Cleavage.
But apparently, I made some comments to Miss Cleavage (that could be deceptively edited by Project Veritas) to the effect that “all the ‘trauma’ around January 6 was complete bullshit…” And that AOC’s real name is Sandy and that “she’s the biggest and most immature ditz in Congress…” And maybe I implied that “Hunter Biden’s laptop was not Russian disinformation, and we all knew it was real from the very beginning…” (Like, no sh*t Sherlock?)… And I may have said that everyone in the government and the media knows that “the Ukrainians are getting their asses kicked by the Russians, and the war won’t last much longer…”
Oh, and I may have trashed some of my colleagues and bosses plus the entire media profession… But who does not talk sh*t about their colleagues, bosses, and profession after a few beers and when they are trying to impress bangable blond cleavage?
Look… When you work Inside the Beltway and/or in media, almost all your colleagues and bosses are complete assholes! And ALL of your woke millennial colleagues are absolute pussies or dickheads! Everyone knows it, and everyone talks about it behind their backs! What’s the big deal here, and what difference does it make?
I ended up not having Miss Cleavage for takeout that night and had to go home and do a Jeffrey Toobin. Believe me, I was a little bummed about that! She also stopped responding to my messages.
I quickly forgot about her. After all, I live and work Inside the Beltway, and my girls are often with their mother. There are always other opportunities for having cleavage takeout.
A week later, I woke up Sunday morning after having my phone volume off that night and morning as I was a little hungover. My girls were with their mother again, and I had found other cleavage takeout the night before. When I finally checked my voicemail, my voicemail inbox was full. The first message was from my boss, who told me:
“Fredo… You were just the subject of a Project Veritas sting! You got caught on video saying a lot of stupid sh*t that goes against official narratives! And everyone is now angry with you! Call me back immediately…”
“What the f**k?!!” I am thinking. “Me, a Project Veritas victim?!!!”
I quickly go to their website and Telegram channel. Sure enough, they had posted a deceptively edited video of me talking shit against the correct narratives with Miss Cleavage! They were also telling their army of Twitter trolls to spread the video all over Twitter. I could not believe it!
On Monday morning, I go to the office and walk through the newsroom to my boss’s office. Everyone in the newsroom is staring at me with angry looks on their faces like they all wanted to take turns punching me in the face!
When I went to my boss’s office, everyone was there or on the Zoom conference call. My boss… His boss… His boss’s boss… All our legal counsels… I have never been sh*t on so hard in my life than at that meeting! Even when one of our journalists gets caught plagiarizing or blatantly making up stuff, they don’t get sh*t on half as bad as I was at that meeting!
They also put me on the equivalent of an informal leave. Or rather, they told me I would not be getting any more stories or by-lines attributed to me until all the sh*t settled down. And I could forget going on TV for a while! I also had to temporarily turn off my blue check Twitter account which was being attacked by Project Veritas’s army of Twitter trolls.
Not having stories or by-lines attributed to you, not being allowed on TV, and NOT being able to Tweet is the media equivalent of being totally castrated! I was so down in the dumps that I could have jumped off the Washington Monument…
And it only got worst. The weekend after all the sh*t hit the fan, I am having breakfast at my favorite local coffee shop, where I hoped nobody would recognize me. Next thing you know, that son-of-a-b*tch James O’Keefe comes in with a camera crew! He sits right down at my table and thrusts a microphone in my face while asking me questions about what I had said to his undercover Miss Cleavage!
Who the f**k does this James O’Keefe think he is?!! I wanted to punch him in the face for ruining my life and making me one of his Project Veritas victims, but I held back due to his f**king camera crew being there!
To make a long story short, this is what I learned from being a Project Veritas victim:
If it can happen to a credentialed and educated media guy like me, it can happen to ANYONE – including you! NOBODY is safe from these Project Veritas scumbags!
There needs to be a Great Reset with LAWS to stop and protect the media from being subjected to these sorts of Project Veritas sting operations! At the very least, they should be legally banned from using cleavage and alcohol to entice their victims!
That son-of-a-b*tch James O’Keefe is a f**king piece of sh*t and a lying dirtbag! I hope he burns in hell for what he did to me, and for what he keeps doing to the media!
P.S. Not only am I persona non-grata at all the Inside the Beltway cocktail parties, but my teenage girls were also like, “Ewe Daddy, how could you?!! She looked our age! What are you, some kind of a pedo? Or are you just a dirty old man kind of pervert!” They stopped speaking to me and still have not spoken to me since!
P.S.S. I was also contacted by the FBI. They wanted to have “a little chat with me.” When I had a “little chat” with them, they wanted to know why I was “off the narrative” when I had talked about Hunter’s laptop and the war in Ukraine. I said, “Look, I am not being paid to spread Russian disinformation and I am not a secret Trump supporter! I was off narrative because I was tricked by Project Veritas’ Miss Cleavage while under the influence of alcohol!” They told me, “From now on, we will be keeping a close eye on you for your own good!” That means I need to be more careful about the sorts of cleavage takeout (at least age-wise…) I can have!
P.S.S.S. I am consulting with my attorneys to see what my legal options are. I am also consulting with certain politicians about passing new laws or regulations to protect members of the media from groups like Project Veritas.
For more satire like this, check out COVIDsteria: An Oral History of America’s Great Reset (Table of Contents) – a fictional satire along the lines of a Studs Terkel oral history or Max Brooks’ World War Z published as a serialized book on Substack. If you liked this Great Reset tale, you may also appreciate these chapters from COVIDsteria:
Our other Tales From the Great Reset (links to all tales are also at the bottom of COVIDsteria’s TofC page):
And don’t forget to visit/like/share all of our ongoing meme/humor posts covering COVIDsteria, RUSSIAsteria, and whatever the next psyop they try to force upon us…
NOTE: While we are bombarded with woke propaganda buried into every story line from Hollywood to fiction literature these days, there is hardly any NON-WOKE satire (beyond the Babylon Bee etc) and/or fictional/satirical writing along the lines of George Orwell, Ayn Rand and the like. And besides, publishers won’t touch such material these days – meaning there is little monetary incentive for such writing…
Please feel free to support this endeavor any way you can with a small donation to keep me motivated and perhaps encourage others to do more non-woke fiction and satirical writing!
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Author Citizen Satirist (CS)
