It’s Always Sunny in Washington DC – Barack and Joe Die

(Bill and Kerry walking down the White House hallway.  Bill is dressed in biking shorts and a t-shirt just after his morning run)

Kerry: So let me get this straight.  It’s okay to have sex.  And it’s okay to pet a dog.  But it is not okay to pet a dog you are having sex with?

Bill: You are still not getting this. The petting is not the issue, dude. The petting is so not the issue.

Kerry: I’m confused.  I’m just thinking the dog would like getting petted, you know. Wouldn’t you like to get petted.  I know I’d like to get petted.  If I were the dog, you know.  I’m just saying.

Bill: What happened to you over in Nam?  There is seriously something wrong with your head.  This isn’t that confusing.  Not confusing. The dog shouldn’t even be there at all, dude.  No dog, dude.  No petting and no dog.

Kerry: That is why I just like to stick to mannequins, you know, like regular folk.

Bill: Regular folk?  Mannequins?  Are you serious?  You can’t be serious, dude.

Kerry: Do you mean to tell me that you are not attracted to mannequins?  You expect me to believe that?  Cause if that is what you are saying, if that is what you are saying, dude, then I’m not believing it.  You’re lying, dude.  You’re lying. You are a liar.  People have been saying that about you for years.  Didn’t want to believe it, but they are right.  You are clearly lying.

Bill: Mannequins?  Seriously? Mannequins?  Any relationship I have with a mannequin is strictly platonic, dude.

Kerry: No, no, no, no, dude.  I’m not hearing that.  You haven’t thought this through, dude.  No thinking.

Bill: Why?  Why are you interesting in dating a mannequin?  Tell me why.  Give me one good reason why.

Kerry:  One?  One?  I’ll give you more than one.  There’s billions, dude.  They’re trim and busty and flexible and nipply.

Bill: Why is that? Why are they always nipply?  Why the poky nipples?

Kerry: Cause it’s so hot, dude.  And sex sells, dude.  Totally sells.  And now you are getting me all hot and bothered.  Stop distracting me, dude.  Stop distracting me.  They don’t resist and they don’t get restraining orders against you and they don’t giggle behind their fingers when you take your pants off and quickly shoo you out of their apartment muttering something about a girl has to have her standards and they don’t point and laugh at you behind your back with their girlfriends and they don’t block you on Facebook and they don’t look like Hillary, not even in those poor people stores, and they don’t order the most expensive item on the menu and then turn their noses up at it after one bite and give it to a homeless person and you don’t have to tell them to shut up cause you are watching ice dancing and they never care if you leave the lights and the TV on and they don’t mock you for wanting to re-enact scenes from the Twilight movies and they never used to be a man and they never get headaches and they don’t talk and talk and talk and talk and they never try to escape from your basement dungeon and they don’t care if you want to bring in a few of their friends and they don’t want to cuddle, like, ever and no matter how hot they are, you can never get them pregnant and they never keep incriminating blue dresses around. Never.

Bill: Ok, Ok, Ok.  Yeah, but what if you feel like a sandwich, dude?  Or you got no clean dishes? What then?  Huh?  What then?

Kerry: Uh…..

Bill: Exactly.  See what I’m saying.  Mannequins just don’t cut it. That’s why I’m waiting for one of those Japanese robot sex maids.

Kerry: Now you got me going.  All this mannequin talk.  I’m all hot and bothered again.  I blame you for this.  Your fault.  You gotta take me window shopping now, dude. You gotta.

Bill: Window shopping?  You are such a woman.

Kerry: Of course window shopping.  It’s just like walking through the red light district in Belgium.  And you gotta distract the sales girl for me.  Just until I can sneak my babydoll into the changing rooms.

Bill: Pah, I’m not gonna do that.  I want no part of that.  No wonder Barack made you his secretary and got confused enough to bang you.

(Enter the Oval Office and see Barack and Joe in there with a shopping cart half filled with stuff)

Barack: I heard that.  I did not bang him.

Joe: You totally did.  You totally banged him.

Bill: It’s true.  You banged him.

Kerry: You banged me.  Banged me good.  Almost as good as a mannequin.

Barack: Enough. Enough.  Enough. And, dude?  Seriously? Biker shorts?  Seriously?  Do you think you can still pull that off? Doughy and pasty.

Joe: And why are you even running, dude?  It’s clearly not helping.  Why?  It’s crazy.  And the craziest thing about all you people who run, dude, is that you can choose not to.  You don’t have to run, dude.  Nothing’s chasing you, dude. Don’t have to run from the saber-tooths anymore.  Or is it saber-teeth?  Doesn’t matter.  We’re modern now. We have limos. Running is for those poor secret service schmucks who have to chase your limo.

Bill: You just haven’t experienced the runners high, dude.  No high.

Joe: Runner’s high?  Runner’s high?  Sure I have dude.  You know when I experience the runner’s high?  Every time I stop running. I get the runner’s high at the exact moment I stop running. High as a kite, dude.  And you know why?  Cause I’m not running.  You should try it.  Besides, it’s way easier to get high when you know where Barack keeps the choom stash.  I’m pretty sure we have some near the bottom of the cart here.

Kerry: Yeah, dudes, what’s with the shopping cart anyway?  Why the cart?

Barack: Oh, this. You weren’t supposed to see this.  Our security reports say that Putin is going to be coming to town any day now.

Joe: And we are pretty sure he is coming to town to kick our butts.

Kerry: He is a scary dude, dude. I wouldn’t want him to kick my butt.

Barack: Yeah.  Totally scary.  Totally, so we are doing the only logical thing.  We are gonna fake our own deaths and go live with the street rats until it all blows over.

Bill: So, it sounds to me like you are running now after all.  Who’s crazy now?

Joe: Just shut up, dude!

(To be continued, maybe, if I feel like it)

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