We had assumed, as you yourself almost certainly had, that the whole Spygate fiasco was officially dead and buried. Not so, sayeth noted statesman and eater of fresh dog shit Arlen Specter, who is feverishly trying to resuscitate this motherfucker so bad that one would think it was casting the deciding vote in a defense-of-marriage amendment.

The Republican senator from Someplace is calling for an independent investigation, citing baseball’s Mitchell report as some sort of precedent. Specter seems to pay no regard to the facts that (a) George Mitchell was not serving in the United States Senate at any time during the production of that report, (b) Mitchell came forward at Baseball’s request, and (c) Arlen Specter is an Eagles fan, and therefore unfit for public service, or any other sort of gainful employment. We also had a (d) fact, but it included a punch line with a very obscure reference to NASA, and we weren’t sure anyone was going to get that.

Those of us here at KSK were fortunate enough to acquire a complete transcript of the Specter press conference, along with am added bonus — transcripts of private remarks Specter made after the conference was concluded. Unfortunately, these items were delivered to us by a visually-impaired, moped-riding chimpanzee named Mindy, who we rely on for most of our political news, since she has unique access to the underbelly of the political scene.

And she has her own moped.

But Mindy’s latest delivery to us was jumbled and confusing; the two transcripts were mixed together, along with four pages of a Peter Pan coloring book and pages 16-25 of the screenplay of the 1982 box office hit Tootsie, starring Dustin Hoffman.

At this point we were ready to say, “Fuck it, let’s not do a transcript post,” until the phone rang. It was one of those automated customer-service surveys, and I promptly hung up. Sure, it had nothing to do with the issue of the transcript, but the disruption to our thought process was significant enough that when pressed with the choice of resuming the diligence of our chore or, say, making one of those frozen skillet dinners out of a bag, that we headed directly to the kitchen. That was a very long sentence.

We don’t remember which frozen skillet dinner we enjoyed — I want to say Teryaki Chicken and Fried Rice, but don’t hold me to that — but after finishing and leaving the dishes out on the counter for someone else to clean up after us, our strategem evolved from “Fuck the transcript” to “Fake the transcript.”

That is, we decided to falsify a given amount of substance to justify the presence of our post that sought to oppose a Midwestern conservative dickbag that was wasting everyone’s time for his own benefit.

And, to that end, we present this artifically-conceived-yet-somehow-very-authentic-looking-document detailing the senator’s remarks in an easy-to-follow, bullet-point format that may or may not feature a gratuitous amount of hyphens.

(You can click this fucker to view it now. That was my bad before.)

Thank you and good night.