Matt Rosendale, the state senator gunning for the U.S. House seat being vacated by Steve Daines, has had a big hit with the TV ad depicting him shooting down a government drone.
Stories about the ad were picked up by news outlets and websites around the world. Better yet — because who doesn’t like free advertising? — the 30-second clip had been viewed on YouTube more than 350,000 times as of Saturday.
As you might expect, other Montana politicians have taken notice and rushed similar ads of their own into production. Thanks to campaign insiders, Last Best News has obtained the scripts for several upcoming television ads.
One, featuring Daines, the state’s lone House member running for the U.S. Senate seat given up by Max Baucus, shows the broadly smiling congressman tossing a football with members of his family.
The background music, an upbeat country song, suddenly switches to deep, ominous bass notes played on an organ. The camera, panning up, shows an enormous unmanned dirigible sailing into view over a nearby mountain range.
On the side of the dirigible is the message, “Obamacare — Don’t forget to sign up!”
Daines tells his family to give him a moment, runs over to a pickup, reaches into the bed of the truck and pulls out a rocket-propelled grenade launcher. Dropping to one knee and aiming the RPG at the dirigible, he squeezes the trigger.
The rocket soars into the sky and hits the dirigible broadside, setting off a huge explosion. As a large, flaming fragment of canvas bearing the word “Obamacare” drops toward the ground, Daines stands up, faces the camera and says:
“I’m Steve Daines and I approved of this message. I will fight to repeal Obamacare — and to protect your right to bear RPGs.”
Meanwhile, Sen. John Walsh, appointed to complete Baucus’ term and now hoping to win the seat fair and square in next fall’s election, has an ad in which he is shown striding confidently down the halls of Congress.
Aides are busily taking notes and talking to the senator, who briefly halts two or three times to shake hands with adoring citizens. In the midst of one such encounter, Walsh’s expression suddenly turns grim as he looks into the distance.
The camera pans over to an overweight, greasy-haired man in a black tailored suit approaching Walsh with a large sack out of which are leaking 100-dollar bills. Emblazoned on the side of the sack are the words, “Pharmaceutical lobby.”
Walsh excuses himself, turns on a heel, takes three steps and throws a right hook into the lobbyist’s jaw. As the man drops to the marble floor, the sack arcs up out of his hands and Walsh grabs it mid-air. He then hands the loot to a young waif who has just appeared, inexplicably, on the scene.
Walsh makes a little show of dusting off his lapels and says to the camera, “I’m John Walsh and I approved of this message. That’s how we deal with corrupt lobbyists in Montana!”
Then there is the ad prepared for former Gov. Brian Schweitzer.
It opens with Schweitzer sitting on the deck of his Georgetown Lake home. His cowboy boots are crossed over a log railing and Jag, his trusty hound, is curled up next to his chair.
He scratches Jag behind one ear, yawns, then slowly reaches back and casually grabs a hunting rifle, which he raises to a firing position. He fires five or six times, sweeping in a broad arc from one end of the deck to other.
The camera cuts away to a bloody tableau of exploding gophers, some hit just as they emerge from their burrows and others caught trying to run across open ground.
The camera cuts back to Schweitzer, who is returning the smoking rifle to its berth against the wall. He spits a line of tobacco juice over the railing, scratches Jag again and turns to face the camera.
“I’m Brian Schweitzer and I approved of this ad,” he says. “I’m not running for anything at the moment, but when I figure out which position I’m interested in, those varmints in Worshington damned well better keep out of sight.”
He stands up, looks at Jag and points toward the house with his thumb.
“Come on, boy,” he says. “Let’s eat.”
