Democrats Worry Their New Spine Will Make Them Look Fat

In a cramped Capitol conference room, Democrats huddled to retool their message against the administration. Senior strategists clung to “order of seniority,” progressives demanded a bold break, and moderates pitched bipartisanship. Everyone agreed the old playbook was failing.

The “Radical” Idea

A junior aide finally spoke up: “Stand for something. Build a clear platform. Run candidates with ideas people care about.”

His real zinger, though, was: “Grow a spine.”

They all knew their backbones had been traded away long ago—one compromise here, one concession there—leaving nothing but rubber-stamp votes and photo ops.

Pushback from the Front Lines

Senior Senator “I can’t campaign with ten extra pounds of spine—it’ll wreck my TV close-ups. Let’s revisit after mid-terms.”

Another Senior Senator “Spine? Is that like urban slang? Sounds…slippery.”

Junior Senator “Love it, but I’m on a new fitness regime and might be off filming a wizard movie cameo. Better to stage a show—hold our bladders on cue, time our thirst—so we look busy.”

Sophomore Senator “Sure, I’ll grow a spine—right after I defect to the other side. Drones have it easy.”

Outspoken Congresswoman “I’ve never lifted anything heavier than a diet soda. Let’s do a cringe-worthy TikTok stunt with ’90s references. It’ll prove we “get” young people…while looking directionless. Also, my Property Brothers remodel ate my wardrobe budget.”

The One Who Tried

At last, the eldest member gingerly strapped on a literal spine, squared his shoulders, and spoke with uncommon clarity and vigor—only to vote with the opposition.

When pressed on why his newfound backbone hadn’t guided his ballot, he simply said: “It didn’t fit.”

Takeaway: They came seeking a backbone—and proved that in Washington, even the best spines can end up collecting dust.