CHENEY:
[Expletive deleted]-face, commie, ambulance-chasing,
greasy, liberal, America-hating trial
lawyer!!!
BUSH:
And Dick, I’ve been meaning to
talk to you about the language. Telling
Leahy to [expletive deleted]-off on
the floor of the Senate . . .
CHENEY:
Damn it George! I speak my mind you
know that. Them Bible Belt Boobs love
it when I curse a Jew like Leahy.
BUSH:
Hmm, I thought he was Irish? What do
I know?
CHENEY:
Not much, George, not much.
BUSH:
But they said we were wrong about the
WMD . . . People are saying I lied,
Dick. I didn’t lie, did I?
CHENEY:
Of course not. You were relying on the
intelligence estimate that what’s-his-name,
you know, the weasel that Clinton left
here to run the CIA.
BUSH:
He had a name like mine. (Pause) George!
Damn it Dick, his name was George. Just
like me. And it’s funny you mention
him because when I was walking past
Jenna’s room . . .
CHENEY:
George, oh no!
BUSH:
(sniggering sound) It’s not what
you think Dick. There was a TV on and
I heard some guy talking about that
intelligence report you gave me.
CHENEY:
Damn it George. I told you no newspapers,
no radio and no TV! That was the deal!
BUSH:
I know, I know, and I’m sorry,
OK? It was accidental. But the TV said
there was a one page report about Iraq
that I was supposed to have read, and
you brought it to me, Dick.
CHENEY:
Damn it George, no one expects you to
read all that technical crap. Clinton
left Tenet here, remember?
BUSH:
Who?
CHENEY:
The other guy named George.
BUSH:
Dang it Dick, I hate to say it but you
were wrong about the damn nukes! (Sobbing.)
There I said it. And while we are at
it, I think you were wrong about Saddam
and Osama being buds. Come to think
of it you were wrong about the people
cheering when we got to Baghdad. They
ain’t cheering. They are jeering
and some of them boys we sent over there
is liable to get hurt someday. I haven’t
been to any funerals yet but I know
people won’t love me if their
boys wind up dead. They don’t
even trust me and I think it’s
your fault.
CHENEY:
Look, George, I don’t need the
money, OK? And I don’t need this
[expletive deleted] from you either.
My doctor’s a junkie and who knows
what crap he shoved up my ticker. I
am so out of here.
BUSH:
All right, Dick. All right.
(DOOR SLAMS. PAUSE.)
BUSH:
Connie, get me Jesus on the line.
CONNIE:
Excuse me Sir?
BUSH:
You heard me right, Connie. Now you’re
a good secatary (sic) and you got to
help me. I think Dick had a touch of
evil and people out there are starting
to sense it. I’m not too proud
to say when I need help from God. And
right now I need Jesus Lord our God
to be my personal savior.
CONNIE:
I’ll bring in the Bible, Sir.
BUSH:
Connie, the book just isn’t enough.
I need the Big Guy himself. He’s
got better hair than that trial lawyer.
Poor people will vote for Jesus. Shoot,
Jesus loved poor people and they can
sense that. You see?
CONNIE:
I have Mr. Christ on line one, Mr. President.
BUSH:
God Damn, I knew you’d come through
for me. Jesus, You hate them evil doers,
don’t ya? I sure do. And I need
your help dear Lord. My approval ratings
are suffering . . . they are declining
precipitously because of Dick Wad, and
Osama. Even Saddam’s more popular
that me. God, I am lost without You
and I need You now more than ever. Won’t
You be the copilot on Air Force One?
JC: I would love to help you George
but I have some issues myself that might
reflect poorly on you.
BUSH:
But I was gonna call you Perfecto Dude.
There can’t be anything about
The Son of God that’s bad, can
there? I mean . . .
JC: Well there are certain aspects of
my record that makes it impossible .
. .
BUSH:
You’re kidding me now.
JC: No Sir. First of all I am Jewish.
BUSH:
No you ain’t.
JC:
I was born Jewish. I was a rabbi in
the old country. Oy, such a time we
had then.
BUSH:
Say it aint so, Fish Man. You converted,
right? You’re a Protestant now,
right? Doesn’t matter what kind.
You’re born again!
JC: No, Mr. President. I never converted.
How could I accept myself as my own
personal savior? It wouldn’t look
good. No, Dad and Mom are both in the
tribe. And then there’s the flip-flop
problem . . . One day I am a man, next
day I am a God, then the Son of God.
Then I’m dead and then resurrected.
There’s this ghost thing, you
shouldn’t know from it, Mr. President.
Also Dad has such a temper. Global warming?
That’s Pop for you. Then there
was all that nonsense with Paul and
his [expletive deleted] epistles. He
made stuff up, from nothing he made
it. Uchh, if people find out and then
first you’ll have trouble. My
boys Matthew, Mark, Luke and John could
never get on the same [expletive deleted]
page. One guy says this, the other says
that. They were free-lancing improvisers.
Only a schmuck like Mel Gibson could
take that crap seriously. Dad’s
gonna snatch his ass in a bear trap!
BUSH:
But you walk on water . . .
JC: Camel-[expletetive deleted]. I told
you Paul was a putz. Peter, too. You
didn’t know? We didn’t have
Spielberg back then. We had to use imagination.
Don’t you know from parables?
It’s in the book. And then there
was all that Mishegas with the Money
Lenders.
BUSH:
Jesus, that’s my base!
JC: Sorry, George. What do you think
those Pioneers and Rangers of yours
are going to say about my line on rich
men and the eye of the needle? Looks
bad, George. Looks bad. And believe
me, people don’t like to hear
that I’m the prince of peace,
it’s a warrior god they want now.
You know, end times and all that [expletive
deleted]. Dad said I can’t wear
a flight suit anyway. I’m not
even allowed to talk to most of your
friends. Geez, what’s up with
Ashcroft?
BUSH:
You mean it really true about rich people
and heaven?
JC: Better you should be a school teacher.
I have a hard time seeing anyone getting
in these days. Mandela . . . maybe.
Jon Stewart is pretty funny. Dad likes
“The Daily Show” and besides
Jon is family. See what I mean? In the
tribe, he is. Such a punum. And George,
I am afraid our styles are incongruous.
You like rich white guys and golf and
flying airplanes drunk. I hang in the
hood with the dudes who got diddly.
Besides, “born-again rich guys”
is an oxymoron, like Fox News. Ha, ha,
ha.
BUSH:
I don’t know what to say . . .
you are my hero, my role model. Some
many of them voters have pitchers (sic)
of you with that sweet look, them big
blue eyes and all that log golden hair.
JC: Another big letdown for you, chief.
Look up the word swarthy in the dictionary.
BUSH:
I don’t care! Your country needs
you . . . Jesus Christ!
JC: Don’t be a schmuck Mr. President.
I am giving you good advice. Me, on
the ticket? Forget about it. Your fund
raisers would plotz already. Sorry George,
if people think about what really happened
they’ll paint me like a radical.
A Liberal, Mr. President. A welfare-loving,
socialist leaning, Liberal!!
BUSH:
A Liberal? Oh, [Expletive deleted].
End of tape
Written
by Faux-Newz Staff Writer
Lyle Graham |