A recounting of an imaginary encounter (portrayed as fact) by a liberal moonbat between themselves and a
conservative in which the latter usually displays some exaggerated, stereotypical speech or behavior that the liberal defines as repugnant in some way. It may also involve a "conversion", in which the (usually lifelong)
conservative reaches an epiphany, realizes the error of his or her ways, and instantly becomes a diehard liberal as a result.
The teller of the tale may be a passive observer, may engage the
conservative in innocuous conversation to draw them out or may actively confront the
conservative over their speech or behavior. When confronting the
conservative, the liberal invariably comes out on top of the exchange, embarrassing the
conservative, exposing their lie(s) and/or hypocrisy, and may cause the
conservative to instantly realize the error of their ways, resulting in the aforementioned conversion.
Common elements of the imaginary encounter may include the liberal and
conservative interacting alone but may occur before onlookers, who either cheer on the liberal for their devastating rhetoric or congratulate them afterwards on their "victory" over the neanderthal
conservative. The
conservative is either left speechless, fumbles or mumbles their argument, is shamed into silence, reacts in some egregious manner, or again, becomes "enlightened" by the sheer weight of the liberal's logic. The encounter for some unknown reason is usually portrayed as taking place at a gas station or convenience store, though it is less frequently related as occuring in a retail store, on the job or at a family gathering, but regardless of the venue the results are always the same. The story often starts with the lead-in, "So, I was at the...(insert location here)", followed by the narrative of events.
The purpose of the Bouncy Ball tale is for the teller to gain favor for themselves amongst their listeners (or readers), establish their bona fides as a true militant liberal, or to boost sagging morale by convincing their compatriots that they are "winning" the war of ideas. The tale is also popularly used to bolster the argument that the U.S. is in a headlong
slide into fascism, particularly when an abusive law enforcement officer is introduced as a character in the story. It may also serve as a paranoia-heightening device if it includes
Black SUVs,
Black Helicopters, strange clicks on the telephone, rumors of re-education camps, etc.
The term "Bouncy Ball tale" is derived from the screen name of a particular poster on a far-left website who was prolific in producing such flights of fancy for her fellow members' edification. Synonyms include the diminutive "bouncy", "freeper encounter", and "bullshit moonbat story".
The Bouncy Ball tale is most prevalent at www.democraticunderground.com. The quality of the tale is sometimes rated by members of conservative moonbat-watching websites using a "bong scale", with 0 Bongs being the least amusing and 10 Bongs representing the most amusing and creative stories. Usually, the more classic elements added to the story (conversions, stunned silences, devastated opponents, the fabled "cops jumping out of bushes", and so forth), the higher the bong rating will be.
Classic Bouncy
Ball tale : So, I was at the convenience store filling up my Prius, and this huge Hummer pulls up covered with W'04 and NRA stickers. A
blue-haired old lady steps out wearing cowboy
boots and a Huckabee campaign button and immediately starts complaining about the price of
gas. I can't contain my rage any longer and finally blurted out, "Did you know that monstrosity you're driving as a replacement for a penis kills 3,500 baby seals a year, and that Chimpy McCokespoon has personally executed over
1,
300,000 innocent Iraqis?" Well she started blubbering something about "terra", and I strode over and kicked the Truck Balls off her trailer hitch, peeled her Columbine-inducing NRA stickers off and handed her a set of enlistment papers for the U.S. Marine Corps. She eventually started crying and confessed that she hated GWB but thought he was the only
one who could save her from
brown-skinned
people. I proceeded to tell her about how the President ordered the attack on the WTC and how he breakfasts on Afghani babies and light
sweet crude. Finally, she thanks me for opening her eyes and I give her a card for the local Democratic Party committee and Code Pink chapter. As she drove off, two homeless
people hanging out by the ice cooler started applauding and thanked me for Speaking Truth To Power. The tide is turning, folks.
