PREVIOUSLY ON IN MY WORLD: Bush, to help his reelection bid, hired Jesus as a consultant and... ah, screw it. Just read the damn thing. I'm too busy to summarize it for you.

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY - Bad Money: A celebration of graffiti currency and other off-the-wallery

* * * *

"So now Jesus has to leave soon since he has to 'save souls' and what not," Bush explained to Scott McClellan.

"So does that mean I get my job back?" Scott asked excitedly.

Bush shrugged his shoulders. "I guess so."

"Yes!" Scott yelled, pumping his fist in the air. "Just one more question though."

"What?"

"You want fries with that?"

Bush swatted Scott across the head, knocking his paper hat off. "I asked for a value meal, dumbass! That comes with fries! Don't make me talk to your manager, you incompetent boob!"

* * * *

Bush settled down on the couch reading the morning paper. "Why do these black people in Boondocks hate me?" he asked aloud. "Well I hate them!" He then growled as he tore the paper in two.

"Honey!" Laura chided, "Don't rip up that paper before I get a chance to look at it."

"Sorry dear," Bush answered. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Bush went to answer the door. As soon as he opened it, he heard a choir of angels as a Being stood before him, His brilliance blinding yet soothing. He faced Bush eye to eye while at the same time standing infinitely tall. "I have come," the Being announced, his voice echoing throughout all existence.

Bush turned around and called out, "Jesus! Your Dad is here!"

"Oh no! I didn't realize God was stopping by!" Laura exclaimed, "I would of tidied up more!"

"Don't worry," spoketh the Lord as he let Himself in, "The place is immaculate... and I know immaculate."

"Well, would you like something to eat?" Laura asked.

"No, I'm not staying long," answered the Almighty, "and... uh... I'm not really corporeal anyway. But thanks for the offer."

"Have a seat while I go find Jesus," Bush told God as he walked off into the White House.

God sat down on a sofa and relaxed on the sofa. Just then Rumsfeld walked in with Chomps following him, a goofy smile on the doggie face. "You're God, aren't you?" Rumsfeld asked.

"What if I am?" sayeth the Lord.

"Fix my dog!" Rumsfeld commanded, shaking his fist at God.

"He is kinda wacky happy," spoketh the Lord, looking over Chomps.

"Your son wussified him!" Rumsfeld yelled.

"Yeah," stated God, Almighty, "He's always been a love and peace type. Me, I like the occasional smiting of the unbelievers. Haven't got to do that in a while, though." He turned to Chomps. "Hey, boy. Want to do some role-playing?" God pointed to a nearby loveseat. "Let's say that's a heathen. What do we do to heathens?"

Chomps stared at the loveseat. Slowly his smile faded and his mouth closed. His eyes squinted. Ever so slightly the back of lips began to curl as a growl rose from deep inside him. Soon he was snarling wildly, snapping in the air as saliva flew everywhere. Finally, he leapt at the loveseat, tearing it to pieces in a matter of seconds.

"Wow!" Rumsfeld exclaimed, "He's angrier than ever!"

"A dog worthy of the Old Testament," proclaimed the Lord.

“The loveseat!" Laura cried upon seeing the scene.

"Oh, sorry," God said, and then pulled out His wallet. He handed Laura a wad of bills. "Go buy yourself a nice new one."

"Well... uh... can't you just use your omnipotence to fix it?" Laura asked.

"Don't tell me how to be God," the Almighty answered sharply.

Bush now came into the room along with Jesus. "Whoa! What happened here?" Bush asked upon seeing the wreck of a loveseat. He turned to Laura. "Did you make God wrathful?"

"It was Chomps," Laura answered, pointing at the wildly angry dog. For a second, Chomps stopped randomly snapping his jaws in the air to sniff around.

"What is it, boy?" Rumsfeld asked, "Do you smell hippies?"

Chomps barked an angry affirmative.

"Let's kill 'em!" Rumsfeld shouted as they both ran out the White House.

"Come on, Jesus," commanded the Lord as he stood up, "We have lots of prayers to handle."

"Didn't you install the spam filters?" Jesus inquired.

"Yeah, and they sort out all the prayers that mention the lottery or penis enlargement," God answered, "but there's still a lot left to take care of." Suddenly, God's cell phone rang. "What?" God asked, answering it. "No... Really? ...I guess I better get on that." God shook his head as he hung up His phone and put it away. "Me-damn, that Lucifer is such a bastard. Well, we need to get going."

"Thanks for having me over," Jesus said as he and God headed out the door, "If you ever need anything, just send a prayer our way."

"Will do," Bush said, and then closed the door. "Man," he sighed aloud, "I never thought I'd get rid of those two. I guess I learned an important lesson: never mix politics and religion or God will have a dog destroy your loveseat with divine anger."

"You didn't learn anything," Laura said with annoyance. "Now I have to go shopping for new furniture."

As she went out the door, Scott ran in. "So do I get my job back?"

"Yep," Bush answered, "You start right now. The press are waiting."

"I can finally take off this stupid thing!" Scott said triumphantly as he removed his paper hat.

"No!" Bush shouted, "Keep that on. New White House policy is that the Press Secretary has to wear a paper hat for sanitary purposes."

"But... but... that's stupid!"

"Jesus didn't have a problem with it," Bush answered, "He wore his hat to all the press conferences."

"Well... if Jesus did it," Scott said as he slowly put back on his hat. He then moped off to greet the press.

Bush chuckled to himself. "Damn, that guy is gullible."

* * * *

"...and I think that fully explains Bush's motives on Iraq and clears any idea of wrong doing on his part," Scott told the press confidently.

"That may be true," answered a reporter, "but you're still wearing a paper hat." All the press then started laughing.

"I hate you all!" Scott sobbed as he ran off.

Just then, Melinda Hawkish of Fox News showed up with her cameraman. "You’re a little late for the press conference, you whore for the right-wing," said Lefty Stevens of CNN.

"I'm not here for the press conference, you liberal pinhead," Melinda answered, "I'm hosting a special episode of When Animals Attack."

"What animals are attacking?" Lefty asked and then spotted a mass moving towards him out of the corner of his eye. A very angry mass. "AHHH!"

* * * *

He’s Chomps, Chomps, the world’s angriest dog.
YEAH!

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In My World
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