Martha’s Vineyard Residents React To DeSantis Flying Migrants To Island

“I was in shock when I saw the first plane of migrants fly into Martha’s Vineyard, but then all a sudden, there was the second plane.”

“Well of course they’ll summer here, but where do they live most of the time?”

“Depends. How old are they?”

“Our community has risen up to put together about two weeks of goodwill for these migrants.”

“I have an empty 17-bedroom Victorian not yet on the market—have they been preapproved for a loan yet?”

“I just wish there were some way to house these migrants within our gigantic luxury homes that are vacant most of the year.”

“Great, now we have to send a thank-you note.”

“I worry the migrants won’t be able to appreciate my lobster gratin. I bet they don’t even know their way around a lobster fork. Oh, how I hate them and their small ways!”

“If Ron DeSantis keeps this up, I’m going to have to reduce my campaign contributions to him from $10,000 to $9,950.”

“I can fit 25 if they sleep vertically.”

“It’s perfect timing. I’ve just run out of moving targets for my clients to practice on.”

“DeSantis should have asked to use my plane before dropping $12 million on this stupid stunt.”

“Impossible. The gate attendant would never have let them in.”

“Yes, of course we’ll take them in. My charity group keeps calling me selfish, and this is the perfect thing to shove in their faces at the next gala.”

“I wish he’d let us know ahead of time which airline he’d be using so I could go long on their stock.”

“Dumping these people here with no food, no water, and no plan is unspeakably cruel. He has my vote in 2024.”

“Aye, I told my island brethren. I heard tell that a storm is a-brewin’, a storm of yon migrants comin’ ’pon us faster than the freezing rain of the bitterest nor’easter. I am a-fearin’ for mine little ones, as we hear how this mass of seething humanity be a-comin’ toward us faster than any whale slams his watery bulk ’pon a stout whaling ship. And then as I stood by me post, as I do in the lighthouse down at East Chop, a-waitin’ this seagoing vessel jammed with migrants, to breach our sandy shores, hopin’ it be exotic migrants from yon faraway lands of Ceylon or Zanzibar, what do I see but—good God, yon massive leering bird screaming through the very sky! What the blazes is this? I screamed to myself. Could it be real? Wherefore does Satan in all his cruel mystery invent such a terrifying metal bird speeding faster than any creature e’er I witnessed during my time on this earth?! I curse whoever defies God’s will by thrusting such a creature into the firmament, and I be settin’ sail this very morn with my family to flee this strange and cursèd new world.”

“It’s nice to see some familiar faces of people I deported while president coming back.”

“Yeah, Reese Witherspoon’s here this weekend, too.”

“Luckily, I have plenty of practice avoiding eye contact with the unfortunate from my time in New York.”

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened with an airplane.”

“I’m happy to volunteer if they need someone to write them a letter of recommendation for the country club.”