Scalia in Heaven

“After all I’ve done for them, this is how they treat me?” moaned Justice Scalia, wringing his hands.

“Stop kvetching,” said Justice Brandeis, “At least you’re up here. Not down there with the rest of your party.”

“You don’t understand,” said Scalia. “I won’t rest in peace until another Supreme Court Judge is appointed to takes my place. A few weeks or months, I could handle. But until the election in November? That’s inhumane!”

“Hold your horses, Tony,” huffed Brandeis. “It took them 125 days to confirm me.”

“That was different. You were the first Jew,” said Scalia. “Don’t they realize that waiting will only make things worse? Obama has no choice but to present Congress with moderate candidates now. But if they wait for Hillary or, god forbid, that raging commie Bernie…”

“What makes you so sure the next president is going to be a Democrat?” asked Brandeis, sitting back on a pink cumulous cloud.

Scalia rolled his eyes. “Have you seen the alternatives, Judge Brandeis?”

“Call me Lou,” said Brandeis. “I admit Trump’s a time bomb. The only aisle Cruz could reach across is the one at WalMart.  Rubio’s too pretty. I can’t imagine him on a dollar bill. Bush is making the mistake of running on the popularity of his unpopular brother. But that still leaves the Governor of Ohio..whatisname?”

“John Kasich? No way,” said Scalia. “He’s a ham sandwich on white bread while America is screaming for a chili dog with onion rings and funnel cake.”

“Oy! Sounds like indigestion,” said Brandeis.

“That’s what I thought I had. Indigestion, Lou” chuckled Scalia. “Thought it was those damn fried oysters. But, no. It was Kingdom Come. I didn’t even have time to say goodbye to my bench buddy Ginsberg.”

“She misses you, Tony,” said Brandeis.

“How do you know?” asked Scalia.

“That’s how it works up here. We know everything,” said Brandeis.

“No one can know everything,” said Scalia. “It took me decades to learn Constitutional Law and there are fine points I still argue in my head. Like the word ‘militia’ in the second amendment. Could it apply equally to Neo Nazis, hedge fund managers and soccer moms?”

“Of course it can’t,” said Brandeis. “I tried to nudge you away from your decision, but you wouldn’t listen. I knew you’d live…or die…to regret it.”

“That was you who kept waking me up at 3 am?” said Scalia. “I thought it was my wife’s meatball parm.”

“Yes, it was me,” said Brandeis. “I’ve been mentoring you ever since you were appointed to the Court. Sometimes you listened. Sometimes you had kreplach in your ears.”

“I thought that was God speaking to me,” said Scalia. “Or speaking through me, guiding me.”

“Actually, his Holiness doesn’t speak directly to anyone on earth. That’s a popular misconception. He speaks through his, uh, associates,” said Brandeis.

“So, you report to Him?” said Scalia.

“Indirectly. The chain of command is complicated. Sort of like the government, if you catch my drift,” said Brandeis, offering Scalia a cheese Danish.

“No, thanks. I’m watching my cholesterol.”

“There is no cholesterol up here. Why do you think it’s called Heaven?”

“So, who else is here from the Beltway?” asked Scalia.

“Almost all of the Supreme Court judges, the Founding Fathers, a handful of presidents and all the guys from NIH,” said Brandeis.

“Any lobbyists?” asked Scalia.

Brandeis laughed so hard he fell off his cloud. “Oh, that’s a good one, Tony. You’re going to get along just fine up here.”

“What about Reagan?”

“He spent a long time in Purgatory before getting his wings,” said Brandeis.

“Wings? We really get wings?”

“No. That’s just a euphemism. Only birds have wings. Angels are just a metaphor for the spirit taking flight,” said Brandeis.

“You know, I’m feeling a lot better after talking with you, Lou,” said Scalia, helping himself to a Danish. “Maybe those months until they appoint someone to replace me will just fly by?”

“Oh, they will. Besides, you’ll be busy mentoring someone who’s still down there,” said Brandeis.

“Do I get to choose?” asked Scalia. “Ted Cruz is going off the rails. I’d really like to help him.”

“The choice has already be made. It’s written in your stars,” said Brandeis. “See? Up there?”

Scalia looked up into the Heavens and let out a blood curdling scream. The stars spelled out T-R-U-M-P.

“It’s not going to be easy,” said Brandeis. “Trump is a heavy sleeper and, as far as we can tell, the only person he listens to is his hair stylist.”

Stacia Friedman is the founding editor of Daily Lobotomy.