Jeb Bush Marco Rubio Donald Trump It was completely still now, something Jeb and Marco had to learn. I will give them all some rotten oranges in the morning and maybe let them run around in the backyard if I can find my cat?

I put Jeb Bush and Marco Rubio back inside the matchbox.  The cardboard is a little soft and one corner is almost gone but it's still big enough to hold Jeb Bush and Marco Rubio because they seem to be getting a lot smaller. 

The two grown men, that want to become president of the United States, Jeb Bush and Marco Rubio are barely worth the matches I had to throw away to make an empty matchbox to hold them.  

I took out the matchbox from it's own little hiding place and now it sits on my desk and carefully I placed Jeb and Marco in the box with my right hand and slid it closed very gently.  I made them both part of my political collection, along with Hillary Clinton, Bill Clinton, Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, Bill De Blasio, Eric Holder, Lynch, Rice and all the other little political creatures.  To be honest I traded the Van Jones for another one of my favorite things in life, fresh goat droppings.

Once I closed the matchbox up it also restored silence and Jeb and Marco mutely started putting up their talking points and other possessions with a few other broken things they had to keep, their instructions.

The matchbox started trembling as Jeb Bush and Marco started talking at first and it sounded like they started fighting again.  The noise grew louder and louder as Marco started speaking in Spanish and Jeb bounced right back.

These little tricksters had bright eyes but weak ideas.  They were both handsome enough but their campaigns were simply dull and their little brains would never bristle with bolts of energy sparking the American people.

With great care I placed the matchbox back into its secret place and un-speaking I waved goodbye and closed the door and walked back up the stairs.

My eccentric little tribe of politicians would calm down after the t.v. lights were turned off as they assembled their planks into beds, sackcloth into sheets, as they will hide from view like little Hillary Clinton in the matchbox next to them.

It was completely still now, something Jeb and Marco had to learn.

Megyn Kelly was still screaming, even after I bought her a cheap dollhouse because her head was too big for a matchbox.

I will give them all some rotten oranges in the morning and maybe let them run around in the backyard if I can find my cat?

I took a peek in my boots again and that little Bill Clinton was having a blast, putting pennies in his tiny little pockets, cuter than a bed bug.

.