MAD About Congress: Sacramento's Political Ads Turn Candidates Into Clowns, Crooks and Criminals

Forget the boring political commercials currently flooding Sacramento television. We've assembled our own team of political consultants, recruited straight from the editorial offices of MAD Magazine, to show the professionals how ridiculous campaign advertising can really get.

With Election Day approaching, Sacramento television viewers are being subjected to an endless barrage of political commercials portraying congressional candidates as bumbling incompetents, dangerous radicals, financial swindlers, and assorted threats to Western civilization.

Apparently, nobody running for Congress is qualified to operate a toaster without adult supervision.

But after watching these commercials, we believe the political consultants responsible for them simply aren't trying hard enough.

So Elk Grove News has assembled its own team of political advertising consultants. Their qualifications include extensive experience reading MAD Magazine, an encyclopedic knowledge of Alfred E. Neuman and a willingness to abandon all good taste in pursuit of the perfect 30-second commercial.

Their motto: "What, me worry? Not when somebody else is paying for the airtime!"

After consuming several gallons of coffee and approximately $47 worth of convenience-store snacks, our consultants have developed six commercials for Sacramento's three congressional races.

These are entirely fictional advertisements, of course. Any resemblance to actual campaign commercials is purely intentional.

CA-04: Mike Thompson vs. Eric Jones

Mike Thompson: Everybody gets a trophy!

Our consultants envision longtime Rep. Mike Thompson sitting on the sidelines of a children's soccer game, wearing an oversized uniform, shin guards and a congressional lapel pin.

His team has just lost 14-0.

But there's Thompson, happily munching orange wedges, sucking down his third Capri Sun and clutching an armful of participation trophies.

"Great job, Mikey!" shouts his coach. "You've been playing for decades, and you still haven't scored!"

Thompson beams with pride. Another trophy for showing up!

A narrator interrupts: "Mike Thompson. He's been in Washington so long that even his participation trophies qualify for Social Security."

The screen fades to black.

"Isn't it time somebody told Mikey the game's over?"

Eric Jones: Your wallet is in good hands. His.

For Thompson's opponent, Eric Jones, our consultants recommend a commercial filmed aboard a Sacramento Regional Transit bus.

Jones boards wearing a suspiciously expensive suit, carrying an empty briefcase and sporting the kind of smile normally associated with used-car salesmen offering 96-month financing.

He compliments an elderly passenger's wristwatch, helps another passenger with her groceries, and generously offers his seat to a third.

At the next stop, Jones exits the bus.

Suddenly, passengers discover their wallets, wristwatches, cellphones, and retirement accounts have vanished.

One woman frantically checks her purse. Another discovers that somebody has refinanced her house.

The narrator solemnly announces: "Eric Jones. He says he wants to represent you in Washington. First, he'd like to represent himself at your bank."

Our consultants suggest ending with Jones running down the sidewalk carrying a briefcase overflowing with cash.

CA-07: Doris Matsui vs. Mai Vang

Doris Matsui: Mr. Magoo goes to Washington

For Rep. Doris Matsui, our consultants propose an animated commercial featuring a character inspired by the famously nearsighted Mr. Magoo.

Matsui wanders the halls of Congress, cheerfully greeting marble statues, mistaking a janitor's closet for the House chamber and asking a bewildered security guard whether President Eisenhower has arrived for lunch.

An aide frantically attempts to guide her toward an important committee meeting.

"Don't worry, dear," our fictional Matsui replies. "I've been doing this for more than 20 years. I know exactly where I'm going!"

She promptly walks into a broom closet.

The narrator interrupts: "Doris Matsui. She's been in Washington so long, she remembers when the national debt was affordable and members of Congress occasionally passed legislation."

The commercial ends with our cartoon Matsui waving confidently from inside a Capitol elevator.

Unfortunately, she's going down to the parking garage.

Mai Vang: Ferris Bueller's congressional day off

Our team has an entirely different concept for Matsui's opponent, Sacramento City Councilmember Mai Vang.

The commercial opens with Vang reclining beside a swimming pool, wearing sunglasses and sipping a tropical drink.

Her cellphone rings.

"Councilmember Vang, you're supposed to be at a meeting!"

"Can't make it," our fictional Vang replies. "I'm attending a very important conference on work-life balance."

The camera pulls back to reveal Ferris Bueller himself, sitting beside her.

"Mai," Ferris says admiringly, "I skipped school for one day. You're making me look like the valedictorian."

Meanwhile, a calendar on the wall shows meetings crossed out in red. An increasingly desperate aide attempts to reach her by telephone, text message, carrier pigeon and skywriting.

The narrator announces: "Mai Vang. She wants to go to Congress, where members enjoy recesses that last longer than most summer vacations."

The commercial ends with Ferris looking directly into the camera.

"Congress? Why didn't I think of that?"

CA-06: Kevin Kiley vs. Richard Pan

Kevin Kiley: Bernie Madoff's favorite congressman

Our consultants have decided that Rep. Kevin Kiley deserves a commercial modeled after those late-night infomercials promising viewers financial independence without the inconvenience of actually working.

The commercial opens with Kiley sitting behind an enormous mahogany desk, surrounded by stacks of hundred-dollar bills, gold bars and photographs of Bernie Madoff.

"Hello, Sacramento! Are you tired of paying taxes? Would you like to become fabulously wealthy without lifting a finger? Then have I got a deal for you!"

Our fictional Kiley introduces his revolutionary new investment program: The Congressional Retirement Enrichment Plan.

"Simply send me your life savings, your retirement account and the deed to your house. I'll take care of everything!"

A flashing message appears across the screen:

Unfortunately, we're not guaranteeing they'll be returned to you.

Suddenly, federal agents burst through the door. Kiley grabs his briefcase and attempts to escape through a window.

The narrator solemnly announces: "Kevin Kiley. He's got a financial plan for your future. Unfortunately, it involves his future in the Cayman Islands."

Our consultants recommend ending with Kiley appearing in an orange jumpsuit, still trying to sell the arresting officers an extended warranty.

Richard Pan: The doctor will release you now

For Kiley's opponent, former state Sen. Richard Pan, a pediatrician, our consultants propose a commercial that begins outside San Quentin State Prison.

Pan arrives wearing his doctor's white coat, carrying an enormous medical bag and a clipboard.

"Good morning, gentlemen! I've decided everybody deserves a second opinion!"

He approaches the prison gates and announces that he's conducting California's largest-ever prisoner wellness examination.

One by one, inmates emerge from their cells.

"How are you feeling today?" Pan asks the first prisoner.

"Pretty good, Doc."

"Excellent! You're discharged!"

A bewildered prison warden objects.

"But doctor, that man has three life sentences!"

"Then he definitely needs a vacation!"

Soon, thousands of inmates are streaming through the gates. Pan hands each one a complimentary bus pass, a bottle of sunscreen, and a lollipop.

The narrator announces, "Richard Pan. He's a doctor who believes in preventive medicine. Unfortunately, our consultants think he's a little confused about preventing crime."

The commercial concludes with Pan standing triumphantly before the now-empty prison.

"Another successful discharge!"

Our consultants recommend adding ominous music, flashing red letters and a photograph of Pan looking particularly sinister while holding a tongue depressor.

The political action committee industrial complex

Outside political groups can spend millions attacking candidates without getting their favorites' hands dirty. Their formula? Find an opponent's ugliest photograph, turn it black and white, add hurricane-warning music and a narrator suggesting civilization is about to collapse.

Repeat 4,000 times before Election Day.

By November, Sacramento voters may recognize every candidate's worst camera angle without knowing what any of them actually stands for.

Remember, these are political advertisements, not documentaries. Their purpose is to create negative impressions, not necessarily inform voters.

Meanwhile, our MAD Magazine consultants have one final assignment: Find a photograph of a politician who doesn't look like an idiot.

They expect to be unemployed for quite some time