Slovenly Steve is out of prison and he's already back in seven layers of popped-collar swaddling. Those four months in the hoosegow sure took their toll on the unctuous slob, who looks less like a political strategist and more like a semi-sentient bag of laundry. He's aged 10 years, his face hollowed out and his eyes startled. He seems even more dimwitted than when he was sharing his harebrained plans for world domination on GeoCities.
Check out heckler Robby Roadsteamer's video of Bannon holding a press conference. Stevie is standing at a podium filled with microphones (which have been treated with chemicals to shield them against the corrosive effects of chronic halitosis). He calls on Roadsteamer, who immediately starts teasing the silver-maned dotard. "When's the next insurrection?" asks Roadsteamer, "And can we storm the Burger King after this?"
Bannon freezes for a McConnell minute before his last few viable brain cells gasp into action. One cell orders Steve's zygomaticus muscles to contract, forcing his mouth into a rictus. Another sends a signal to his arm and hand, raising them so he can point a shaky finger at Roadsteamer.
To put an end to the humiliation, a trio of wizened, scowling goons standing around Bannon make a beeline for Roadsteamer.
They waste no time escorting him out of the room.
"No political violence, people," says Roadsteamer as he's manhandled toward the exit. "This place smells like mothballs."
The mothball odor was actually Bannon's new cologne: "Desperation by Dior."
