(The clock strikes 1 PM and a ghostly apparition appears before Barack)
Barack: JFK? Is that you? It is you. I can’t believe it is you. You are supposed to be my hero.
JFK: I know. I know. Wait….Supposed to be?
Barack: Well, yeah. So I’ve heard. Once I was born, all other heroes just naturally faded into the background, but I heard people liked you and stuff. I never saw the movie myself, so….well, I heard you were good in it.
JFK: Ok, ok, let’s just move this along, then. I can’t believe I have to sit through another Christmas Carol ripoff. Get some imagination people. Where’s the ghost of Lee Harvey Oswald when you need him? Ok, follow me. It’s this way. Just back and to the left. That’s right, back and to the left. Back and to the left. No, your other left. Just follow me!
(They are suddenly whisked away and appear back at the White House Christmas party)
JFK: No one can see you, of course. You are just here to observe and see what you can learn about the true meaning of Christmas.
Barack: Dude, this is so wrong. I can’t even grab the champagne or nothing. I’m not sure I can endure this sober.
JFK: Just pay attention for once. I’m not thrilled about this either. There, why don’t you check in on Joe?
(Drifts over to where Joe is speaking to Nancy)
Joe (drunkenly): And you can’t say I’m not doin’ nothin’ anymore, neither. Barack just put me in charge of plannin’ for the War on Christmas. Yeshh, it’s true. It is. And I have plans. Lots of plans. I’m gonna start this off with coordinated drone attacks on all of the mall Santas. I mean, they can’t all be body doubles, right. We’ll nail the real one eventually. And I’m gonna idle my car all the time. Melt that North Pole right out from under him. Drown him with all the polar bears. Collateral damage. Acceptable losses. That’s what the armies call it. Acceptable losses. And I know how to fund it too. Been goin’ to the pounds and scooping up all of the golden retrievers. You know with the price of gold bein’ what it is, once they retrieve it all, we’ll be rich, I tell ya. But there’s more. There’s more. I was smart. Always thinkin’. Bought all the munitions during the Black Friday sales. Went shoppin’ with Paula Deen. Though she didn’t call it Black Friday. I can’t tell you what she called it, but it wasn’t Black Friday. And that’s not all. Not all. Not all at all. I’m in charge of all holiday related, uh, stuff and stuff. Like Halloween fightin’. Like the zombie apocalypse. Preparing for that, too. First thing I gots to do is dig up all the corpses and tie their shoelaces together. Gives us a better chance of runnin’ away from them, cause they’ll all be trippin’ and stuff. And I’d tell you about the upcoming Valentine’s Day massacre, but, shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s a secret. You’ll have to be a part of the massacre so you can know what is in it, so kind of right up your alley. You want to be part of the massacre?
JFK: Please tell me that you are planning on changing the Constitution so that isn’t your successor
Barack: Sad thing is, he’s more lucid when he’s drunk. You should hear what he says when he is sober. Take me somewhere else. Please. There’s Kerry and Bill over there.
Kerry: What’s up with that umbrella? Is it really working?
Bill (holding an umbrella over his head made entirely of mistletoe): Oh this. Oh, no. I don’t need this to get a kiss. But it keeps Hill away. It’s like Hillary repellent XXS or something. Gives me my space.
Kerry: It’s luring me in, though. Pucker up, I’m coming in.
Bill: You can’t kiss me with those lips. They’re still stuck to the Ayatollah’s ass. But did I tell you? I recently moved in with my girlfriend. Don’t tell her. She doesn’t know. And neither does her husband. I tell you, there is nothing like the feeling of waking up next to the woman you love, even if she doesn’t know that you love her or that you are even in her house. But anyway, when I would creep into her room and watch her change, I kept noticing these bruises on her and stuff. So what is my first thought? Domestic abuse, right? Am I right? Of course I’m right. So I sit her down and say, I know this is a touchy subject and it may not be any of my business, but I think you really need to try and be less obnoxious. I mean, really. You can be very annoying. A lot of the time I want to smack you around too. But really, I can feel your pain. I can feel your pain.
Kerry: You know, they say that women have a higher threshold for pain than men.
Bill: But what good is that if their threshold for complaining about it is so much lower? You know what I mean? But anyway, you read that Fifty Shades of Grey yet?
Kerry: No, but did you hear that Al said it was a ripoff of his and Tipper’s love life?
Bill: No way. But the scary thing I heard was that they did a study and found that every copy of that book in the world had traces of cocaine and herpes on it. Every copy. True story.
Kerry: And you know that 70% of people who catch herpes get it from someone with no visible signs of an outbreak. Sibelius told me that one. So I know it is true. But the really scary thing is that means the 30% of people who contract herpes get it from someone with visible signs. That’s just frightening.
Bill: And that, my friend, is why you always keep the lights on. And it is why foreplay is so important. If you are getting it on, and it feels like you are reading The Audacity of Hope in braille, run for the door. Run for the door and don’t look back.
Obama: I’m so confused, dude. What exactly was I supposed to learn from this? This is the same stuff I see from them every day.
JFK: I haven’t got a clue. The Powers That Be really didn’t think this one through at all it seems. No planning or follow up from the chief executive, apparently. I guess everyone just assumed the Dickensian template just always worked on its own. Major foul up here. Which God do you worship again?
Obama: Myself, of course. Duh, dude. Who else is worthy of my reverence?
JFK: Ah, no wonder this was such a monumental cluster. You were ultimately in charge of this whole thing. Did you have any meetings about this at all?
Obama: Cha! I’m too smart to deal with details. That’s what the serfs are for. It’s not like I’m going to show up to a meeting about something called Obamacarol. That just sounds downright racist to me. Especially when it was such a monumental failure. I don’t want my fingerprints all over that train wreck. Maybe we should call it the Awful Christmas Act or something else less racist.
JFK: You’re hopeless. There is apparently no hope that you will ever change. This is absurd. I’m not wasting my time anymore. Enjoy your next visit. See you in a few months. (fades away)
Obama: Hey, wait a minute. You have time for a quick selfie? Wait, what? A few months? Wait? What? That means you’re coming back, right?
(To be continued, maybe, if I feel like it)