the devil called down to Georgia

By Wry Banter, for my wit's end

The Devil called down to Georgia, looking for some votes to steal.
Brad took the call, and heard a voice say, “son, let’s make a deal.”
Secretary Raffensberger knew Beelzebub,
Sounded like the man he golfed with at Bedminster Club.

 Brad is good at thinking on his feet, so played it cool.
“Record this call,” he told himself, “Don’t be the Devil’s tool.”
The Devil wanted help to keep the White House from Joe B,
“Find those missing ballots that you know belong to me.”

The Devil had Rudy Guiliani on the call that day,
His disbarred legal beagle who told him what to say.
Rudy spoke, “Election fraud is a felony,
We know where you live and work, so listen carefully.”

The Devil asked Brad plain and clear, simple as can be,
“Find eleven-eighty-seven votes and flip to me.”
“Come join the MAGA cult, don’t be a RINO turd.”
Brad said, “Devil, go fuck yourself!” but not in those same words,

Beelzebub got angry, his face turned crimson red,
Then threatened Brad with fire, and smoke, and brimstone, when he’s dead.
The honest secretary did not budge an inch that day,
And gave testimony of what he heard the Devil say.
	
Despite Fani’s screw up, a trial is coming soon,
To a courtroom in Atlanta where the Devil meets his doom.
What goes round comes round they say, so it’s not smart to try,
To deceive a smarter person over an election lie.