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 assigned to conservatives which 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 describe themselves as a passive observer, may claim to have engaged the conservative in innocuous conversation to draw them out or may say they actively confronted 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 discover how blind they've been, resulting in the aforementioned conversion.
Common elements of the imaginary encounter usually 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 always dull-witted and is always 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. Less commonly, if the teller is in a hurry, unimaginative or just plain lazy, he or she may just make a statement about overhearing or being told by a friend or family member that even though they are a
Republican they are "
sick of Bush", and vow to vote Democratic henceforth.
The purpose of the Bouncy Ball tale is for the teller to gain favor for themselves amongst their fellow moonbat 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.
