President Obama sat in quiet contemplation in the Oval Office. “Hey, Biden, do you think what we’re doing in Libya counts as ‘hostilities’?”

“My shoes are too big!” Biden shouted angrily. “I think someone switched my shoes out with bigger shoes.”

“I just don’t want to get Congressional approval for this,” Obama continued, “because then it’s like a war and a big deal or something, and I don’t want to make a big deal about this. Plus, Congress is like all the way across town.”

“They’re trying to make a fool of me!” Biden yelled. “I’ll show them.” He kicked off his shoes. “Now I’m not wearing shoes! Now who’s the fool?!”

Obama stared at him a moment. “I guess I’ll talk to the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Counsel.”

“I’m going to find my real shoes!” Biden then ran out of the office.

Soon, a lawyer from the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Counsel arrived. “What’s your question?”

“I was wondering if what we’re doing in Libya counts as hostilities.”

“Of course it does,” the lawyer. “So, you’re going to have to scale things back by May 20th.”

Obama nodded thoughtfully. “You’re fired.” He pushed a button on the intercom. “I need a new lawyer.”

The first lawyer left and a new lawyer entered the office. “What’s the question?”

“So, I was thinking that what we’re doing in Libya is not really ‘hostilities’. Don’t you agree?”

“No, it obviously is hostilities,” the lawyer said. “It’s not a big deal, though, since you just need Congressional approval and Congress loves approving wars.”

“Yeah… but I don’t want to do that.”

“But it’s your only option.”

Obama shook his head. “I know another option… You’re fired!” Obama pushed the button on his intercom. “New lawyer!”

* * * *

Obama banged his head against the desk. “Why are all lawyers so stupid! Can’t any of them understand my smart opinion!” He pushed the button on the intercom. “Are there any more lawyers left?”

“We were able to scrounge up one more, but…”

“Just send him in!”

In entered a man in an ill fitting suit with a wrinkled tie. “Name is Chad Goldstein, Attorney at Law. What are we dealing with here? DUI?”

“No, not that.”

“They probably just arrested you because you’re black. You are black, right? I keep assuming people are black and they aren’t.”

“This isn’t about that,” Obama said. “I need a legal opinion on whether what we’re doing in Libya counts as ‘hostilities’ when I’m like really sure it doesn’t.”

“Hostilities? That’s crazy!” Goldstein shouted. “What are you doing there? Flying drones around and shooting stuff — just like in a video game. And kids play video games. Would something kids do count as ‘hostilities’? Of course not. That’s crazy talk. Completely insane. WHAT IS THAT RINGING?!”

“Uh… I don’t hear anything ringing.”

Goldstein calmly took a seat. “And neither do I.”

“So you said your name is Goldstein?”

“Yes, changed it to that because it sounds Jewish; gives me credibility. Not a Jew though; they kicked me out of the synagogue I tried to go to. Do you know they have something against eating bacon? I love bacon. I think I’ll have some now.” He pulled a baggie out of his pocket. “You want some?”

“No; it’s uncooked.”

“What are you? Secretly a Muslim? Don’t worry; you can tell me. We have attorney-client privilege, which means I can’t write a tell-all about you for at least five years.”

“Forget about that,” Obama said. “I just need you to write a document saying how legally what we’re doing in Libya doesn’t count as hostilities and thus doesn’t fall under the War Powers Resolution.”

“Sure, I can do that for you. I’ll make it look real nice with lots of official sounding legal terms in it like ‘judge’ and ‘laws’. How many pages does it have to be? Can I use double space?”

“Um… I don’t know on length. So uh… where exactly did you get your law degree?”

“Hey, what’s with all the third-degree? What’s next? Are you going to ask for my birth certificate? You’re a lunatic if that’s what you’re going to do! Insane! Crazy!” He jumped to his feet. “WHAT IS THAT RINGING NOISE?!!”

“I… don’t hear any ringing.”

Goldstein adjusted his tie. “I never said you did.”

“Well, I guess we’re done here. You just get me that document that backs my view.”

“Will do. And do you validate parking?”

“Um… we don’t charge for parking at the White House.”

“I didn’t say the parking was for here.”

“No… I don’t know how to do that.”

“Can’t you just issue me a parking pardon? I don’t want to pay for parking!”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Fine! But you just lost a vote!” Goldstein stormed out of the office.

Obama smiled to himself. “That’s why I’m such a smart president: I find the right experts to listen to.” His phone started ringing. “Hello?”

“It’s Biden. I have good news and bad news. Good news: I found my shoes. Bad news: I’m going to need you bail me out of prison.”

Obama put his head in his hands. “Not again!”

“Hey, here comes someone!”

A man walked up the podium. “Wait! That’s Andrew Breitbart!” one of the reporters shouted. “We hate him!” The room erupted in boos.

“I will destroy you all!” Breitbart shouted at them.

“He’s right wing and really mean about it!” yelled a reporter. “He’s just like Hitler!”

“He’s worse than Hitler,” said another reporter. “Hitler never criticized the job we did!”

“You are useless and do nothing but get in the way of truth! I have to fight you to get the stories out there, and that is why I will destroy you all!”

“We don’t have to listen to you!” a reporter said. “You’re a liar!”

“What did I lie about?!” Breitbart screamed. “You tell me what I’ve ever lied about!”

“Stuff.”

“What stuff? You back your claims up with facts!”

“I’m part of the established media!” the reporter shouted back. “You are just supposed to believe what I say and assume I have the facts to back it up even if I don’t feel like showing them to you!”

“Your time is past!” Breitbart told them. “You are outdated!”

“We are not!” one answered. “Our newsroom just got one of those newfangled fax machines!”

“And we have our news available on one of those high tech triple-w pages!” said another.

“You are dinosaurs!” Breitbart yelled. “And I am one of those little rat-like things — the first mammals. And you’re all laughing at me, but I will destroy you and rule this planet!”

“That’s crazy! A little rat can’t beat a dinosaur!” a reporter answered. “Rats are tiny, and dinosaurs are giant! That’s why dinosaurs will be around forever!”

“No! I will use my mammal brain to like build a… slingshot… or something, and I will kill you with it! You dinosaurs will laugh at the little rat with the slingshot, but he will kill you! You will all be dead, and kids will stare at your bones in museums!”

Anthony Weiner walked into the room and saw Breitbart at the podium. “Oh, if you’re all busy…”

“You get up here now, and you apologize to me!” Breitbart commanded.

Sheepishly, Weiner headed to the podium. “I just want to tell you all that, yes, I lied about being hacked and did send that picture. I want to apologize to the American people, my constituents, and my wife.”

“AND?” Breitbart yelled.

“…And I most especially want to apologize to Andrew Breitbart.”

“Apologize to me directly!” Breitbart told Weiner.

Weiner looked at Breitbart. “I am sorry, Andrew Breitbart.”

“LOUDER!”

“I am sorry, Andrew Breitbart, sir!”

“And who is the man?”

“Well… I am a man…”

Breitbart smacked Weiner. “You are not a man! Who is the man?”

“You are the man!”

“Tell them!” Breitbart pointed to the press.

“Andrew Breitbart is the man!”

“You heard him!” Breitbart shouted at the reporters. “I am the man! Yet you aided in him slandering me while he was lying! You covered up the truth! That’s why I will use my slingshot and mammal brain to destroy you!” He looked to Weiner. “You can speak now.”

Weiner straightened himself up and smiled for the cameras. “As long as you’re all here, I think we should talk about a few important issues–”

Breitbart slapped him. “Shut up! You’re done talking!” He turned to the press. “Next time I see you, I will be laughing over your smoldering corpses!” He then knocked over the podium and walked off.

A reporter in the back giggled. “That one guy’s name was Weiner.”

SAIF AL-ADEL: “Thank you for coming here today. I’m happy to announce that I, Saif al-Adel, am the new leader of Al Qaeda. I’m really excited at this opportunity, and have lots of plans to really advance our cause in the area of killing infidels.”

REPORTER: “Are you upset about what happened to the previous leader?”

SAIF: “I was, but then I heard about how they gave Osama a respectful Islamic burial at sea — which was really nice of them. I mean they didn’t have to do that, but they did. Still, we are going to destroy America because it’s the Great Satan and that’s in our mission statement.”

REPORTER: “So are there more plans to commit terrorist acts on the U.S. mainland?”

SAIF: “First off, we don’t call them ‘terrorist acts’, we call them ‘rapid reorgs’ — because it’s all about change really. Change and martyrism. But we’ve had some problems getting dedicated people in the U.S., since the go to the country and have a Big Mac — which are really tasty — and they decide they just kind of like living there and don’t want to blow themselves up. I think that’s short-sighted, though, but we’ll try to work around it.”

REPORTER: “What is in the Big Mac’s secret sauce?”

SAIF: “I don’t really know. I’m guessing it has mayo in it. We tried sending some people to find that out, but we never heard back from them again.”

REPORTER: “How do you plan to participate in the so-called ‘Arab Spring’?”

SAIF: “I’m glad you asked. We’re very excited about this. Many in the region are wanting to overthrow the current regimes and have a change in their country. Some want that change to be freedom and democracy. We, though, offer the more traditional, time-proven change of murder, mayhem, and killing the Jews. I think in the end, people will come to our side as we’re not some fad like liberty. We’re violent jihad, which has served the people of this region for hundreds of years.”

REPORTER: “We’re you disturbed by the reports that porn was found in Osama’s compound?”

SAIF: “Well, let’s not be too judgmental here. Yes, it is my position that all Muslim women should be covered… but maybe a woman isn’t a Muslim. And maybe she doesn’t like being covered. Maybe she doesn’t like any of herself to be covered. And maybe she likes to have sex while being uncovered. And maybe someone is filming it as it happens. And maybe that film is playing on the TV in front of me. Is it then a sin for me to look? I think it’s a gray area.”

REPORTER: “Are you concerned at all at about SEAL Team Six?”

SAIF: “Interesting story: Right after it was known I’d be taking over, I got a nice note from them that read, ‘We want to congratulate you on your new position as head of al Qaeda. Best of luck, and we’ll soon be seeing you and shooting you in the head.’ Incidentally, I didn’t hear a single thing from SEAL Teams One through Five. So, while SEAL Team Six definitely is a competitor, I’d call it a respectful rivalry. But yes, I am worried about them shooting me in head which is why I should probably end this now and get back into hiding. So, death to America, the Great Satan. Death to Israel, the Little Satan. Death to Canada, the Semi-Satan. And death to Britain… we don’t really have a Satan name for them. Maybe ‘the Crumpet-Eating Satan’.”

“Who was the advisor?” a reporter asked President Obama at the press conference.

“I don’t know; some guy. Anyway, he said, ‘You have two choices, you can take out bin Laden, or you can not take out bin Laden.’ So, I thought about it a moment and said, ‘I would like the first option: The one where we take out bin Laden. The second option of not taking out bin Laden is not the option I want.’ And then the advisor said, ‘We’ll be doing this without getting Pakistan’s permission.’ So I said, ‘Then I said I have to think about it a little longer.’ And then I thought about it. And then I said, ‘I think I would still like to take out bin Laden.’ And that is the story of how I personally killed bin Laden.” Obama paused a moment to bask in his own awesomeness.

“Did you congratulate the SEAL team on the mission?” a reporter asked.

Obama rolled his eyes. “We didn’t use trained animals to kill bin Laden. It was done by military people with guns. You reporters are so stupid on these matters. You’re certainly not a badass commander in chief like me who gets down in the midst of things and makes sure our enemies pay.”

“So what branch of the military did carry out the operation?”

Obama thought about that for a moment. “I think it was the legislative. Anyway, we’re getting off topic of how I killed bin Laden.”

“Why are you shirtless and wearing a bandoleer?” another reporter asked.

“Because I am like Rambo. I kill the enemies of America.”

“Follow up question: Could you please put on a shirt?”

“No, because I am a warrior. And I think the American people recognize that now. In fact, they’ve started calling me, ‘President Awesome.’”

“Who calls you that?”

“Malia did… after I asked her to. But it’s catching on. Everyone loves me now. Why a prominent conservative website said that how I took down bin Laden was — and I quote — ‘Akin to what a U.S. president would do.’”

“So do you think this victory will overshadow the economic problems our country has been having?” a reporter asked.

“Well, I don’t think the American people ever expected me to do anything about domestic problems because I campaigned as — and always was — a wartime president. If you think back to my campaign, all I ever said was I was going to hunt down and kill the enemies of America, and that’s exactly what I did. Maybe that was done to the detriment of some domestic issues, but this was important. Like, a lot of people thought the health care bill was awful. Well, that’s because I didn’t really pay attention to it because I was too busy hunting Osama bin Laden. And the reason I haven’t worked on getting the economy going and creating jobs was because I was too busy hunting Osama bin Laden. And the reason I’ve been so many strokes over par in my golf games lately is because my mind has been so focused on capturing Osama bin Laden. So, yes this hunt for bin Laden was to the detriment of some other things, but I think we all can agree it was worth it.”

“So now you’ll focus on the economy?” a reporter asked.

“Well… I’m kinda pooped out after all the bin Laden hunting, so no promises.”

“Now is it true that the intel that led to bin Laden was gained from Gitmo?”

Obama nodded. “Yes, the same Gitmo I took the initiative to not close. Not closing it was my idea, so in a way, I personally got that intel.”

“But didn’t you campaign to close it?”

Obama shrugged. “I can’t remember. I guess my mind has been so focused on bin Laden, that it’s even messed up my memory of anything unrelated to capturing bin Laden. Because that’s what I am, the president who took down bin Laden, America’s greatest enemy. What people will remember me by is this…” He then held up a newspaper which had the headline “OSAMA KILLS OBAMA”.

“Um…”

“Yeah, I know — bit of a typo there, but they told me they already corrected it in the online version. No one buys a physical paper anymore.”

I know some of these big guys, they’re all still driving their big SUVs. You know, they got their big monster trucks and everything, driving around with these blank dumb looks on their faces. (Laughter) You’re one of them? Well, I guess I did see you furrowing your brow like you weren’t quite understanding me. Am I right? (Laughter).

Well, now, here’s my point. If you’re complaining about the price of gas and you’re only getting eight miles a gallon in your moron redneck car–(Laughter)–you may have a big family, but it’s probably not that big. How many you have? Ten kids, you say? Ten kids? Wow. You really are some freak. (Laughter.) Well, you definitely need a hybrid van then. (Laughter) We should all be trading in our cars for hybrids… I mean I won’t, because of my special presidential limo. But everyone else should–even the rednecks with their idiotic monster trucks and freakishly large families like you. (Laughter).

So, like I said, if you’re getting eight miles a gallon you may want to think about a trade-in. You can get a great deal. I promise you, GM or Ford or Chrysler, they’re going to be happy to give you a deal on something that gets you better gas mileage. What’s that? You don’t have money for a trade-in? Really? It couldn’t be more than $40,000. What are you? Barely living over the poverty level earning just $200,000 or something? Didn’t realize you’re like an inbred pig farmer or something. (Laughter). Well, I guess you’ll just have to scrounge some more money together. When I need to do that, I just put out another memoir. It’s really easy, and you don’t even have to write because I assume you’re illiterate. (Laughter). You just go to a nearby university and get your tenured terrorists friend to write it. What? You don’t have a tenured terrorist friend? (Laughter). Hey! Everyone! Look at this guy here! He doesn’t even know a tenured terrorist! What a stupid redneck! Probably only knows pigs and hillbillies. (Laughter). I guess you’ll just have to write your own memoir like an idiot. Now why don’t you go back to your pig farm and help train your ten freak kids for the Special Olympics, you stupid redneck. I’m guessing all us city folk are confusing you. (Laughter).

Americans are so stupid. (Laughter).

“I have a question,” one reporter said.

“Would you like me to repeat everything I just said about March Madness?”

“No; the question is about Libya.”

“Oh, well there is not really much to say about that. Qdaffy is a terrible dictator, so we’re going to use military force to take him out.”

“And do you see any hypocrisy after all your opposition to the war in Iraq?”

Obama looked confused. “I didn’t think anyone took that seriously.”

“It was kind of a big deal,” the reporter said. “People criticized Bush endlessly for years and quite vehemently. It was your party’s — and your own — main objection to him. There were huge protests constantly. He was called one of the worst president’s ever because of it, and some on the left even called him a war criminal.”

“Oh. I think I see the confusion.” Obama nodded. “Let me explain it this way: I’m a left-winger, so pretty much everything out of my mouth is just partisan nonsense.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think it’s pretty easy to understand,” Obama continued. “We on the left act like this and that is a big deal, but all we care about our partisan politics. If someone can be identified as being on the other side of us politically, then that person is the devil to us and we will attack him or her with idiotic thing we can think of. And we’ll act like it’s a huge deal, but our objections don’t come from any coherent political philosophy or actual concern for poor or oppressed people. We just don’t like people disagreeing with us and that’s the entirety of what we care about.”

“So none of those countless objections from the left to the war in Iraq was based on any real sentiments?”

“Only our hatred of Bush being a Republican,” Obama explained. “Absolutely everything we acted like was a big deal about Iraq was just nonsense and we didn’t really care about it. We even actually found Abu Ghraib kind of funny. We’re utterly useless people who just like to argue and don’t care about the consequences. It’s completely insane that anyone paid us even the slightest attention when something important like a war was going on. And it’s pretty crazy you elected someone like me to be president when I had clearly demonstrated time and time again that I am a useless partisan idiot with nothing to contribute to society. Did you reporters even look into the community I organized in Chicago? It fell into the sea — and Chicago is hundreds of miles from the sea. That’s how less than useless I am.”

“So… why are you telling us this now?”

“Well, it’s just getting real hard to pretend that Bush did things wrong when I’m basically copying everything he did. I mean, he was a president who actually had some idea what he was doing, so really the best I can do is just try to ape him. It’s a little bit different just because of how spineless I am; for instance, I’m letting France now lead the way on military operations. Still, it’s hard to pretend I’m not ending up in the exact same place as Bush, and I don’t have time both to both spin that and make my picks for my brackets in March Madness.” Obama took another look at his chart. “And they were pretty good picks, huh?”

“Just one more question: So, to be clear, you’re basically denouncing everything the left stands for?”

“Yep. Pretty much. I and everyone else on the left are useless whiny people with no real concern about anyone or anything outside of partisan politics. Everything we say is completely pointless and no one should ever listen to us. Now, if you have anymore questions about Libya, please direct them to the new man I put in charge of it: Ronald Dumsfeld. He’s someone who… Okay, he’s Donald Rumsfeld in a wig; I don’t have time to keep up any subterfuge. Gotta go play some golf!”

At least Obama has now united both sides in agreeing he’s a huge failure.

The GOP should propose their own DREAM Act, like making it illegal to set illegal aliens on fire or something.

The best way to end illegal immigration would be to make Mexico a functional country, but that would be meddling.

It was interesting watching the episode where Palin stocked up on caribou meat, but I thought the citizens of Alaska mainly liked pork.

SARAH PALIN: “Hello! Welcome to Sarah Palin’s Alaska, the show where you get to see the beauty of Alaska while we brutalize all the wildlife in it.”

PIPER PALIN: “I found a bunny rabbit in our backyard. I punched it in the face.”

SARAH: “Isn’t she precious? I try to instill in my children the values I was taught such as not letting nature push you around.”

WILLOW PALIN: “Die fish! Die!”

SARAH: “Willow is demonstrating a common technique of repeatedly whacking a fish against a rock and then throwing its corpse back in the lake. This tells fish to stay out of our way. Of course, you don’t always do that by killing things. The other day I took my Glock and knee-capped a moose. When other moose see him lying there bleeding, they’ll know not to mess with the Palins. If only the lame-stream media were that smart.”

TODD PALIN: “The new piano is here.”

SARAH: “Oh. Good. We really needed a new piano because already cut all the wire out of the last one to make garrotes. Last one I used to strangle a grizzly bear; I’m the only mama grizzly in these parts. Anyway, let me show you the guest we have downstairs in the basement.”

AARON SORKIN: “You’re a crazy redneck! I hope you die!”

SARAH: “We don’t like this person, so we kidnapped, put him in our basement, and are now waterboarding him.”

SORKIN: “You crazy… gurgle…”

SARAH: “You may wonder if that’s legal, but remember we’re really far away. Like if this were a live show — which it isn’t — and you wanted to run to his rescue, it would take you hours by plane just to get here. Plus, we’re a very large state and you’ll never find me. So essentially I’m above the law.”

SORKIN: “I’ll tell you anything!”

SARAH: “I think I — and the American people — have made it pretty clear we don’t care to hear anything you liberals have to say.”

SORKIN: “Somebody help me!”

PIPER: “That man is funny. I’ll get more water.”

SARAH: “Well, tune in next week when we drive around in a jeep trying to knock the heads off a caribou with a baseball bat. That’s the way we do things in Alaska, and if any of you have a problem with, remember that no one in my family would bat an eye at killing you.”

“This is the Republicans,” answered a distorted a voice. “We have someone you might want to talk to.”

On the line was a new voice. “I’m a middle class tax payer! The Republicans have taken me hostage!” she said unconvincingly. “They say they’ll raise my taxes too if taxes are raised on the rich and won’t extend my unemployment! I am very scared! Please do help me and do whatever the Republicans want!”

The Republican came back on the line. “So, to show you we’re serious–”

“I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!” Obama screamed.

There was a long pause on the phone. “Really?”

“Yes; whatever. Just write it down, and I’ll do it.”

“Oh… okay. Cool.”

Obama hung up the phone and announced, “We’re doing whatever the Republicans want.”

“Why?” one of his aides asked.

“Because they have the middle class hostage… or something.”

“No they don’t,” the aide said. “We still have the majority and they don’t have any leverage. Their hostage was probably just Michelle Bachman acting. We can defeat them if–”

“Whatever you’re proposing sounds hard,” Obama interrupted, “and my tee time is coming up soon.”

“Fine. But you’re going to really anger the left-wing,” the aide said.

“We’re really angry!” screeched a high pitch voice.

Obama looked down to see the left-wing down at this feet, shaking their tiny fists up at him.

“We’re going to challenge you in the primary!” the left-wing shrieked.

“Sure you are.” Obama grabbed a wastebasket and overturned it over the left-wing, trapping them inside. “There, I took care of them.”

The left-wing banged their tiny fists on the wastebasket. “Lets us out!”

“I’ll do it later,” Obama told them, “and then you’ll be so grateful to me.” He turned to his aide. “So just write me up some speech saying the Republicans are hostage takers and I had to give in to their demands — but mention that terrorists shouldn’t learn anything from that. And then add that thing we’re always mindlessly repeating about how tax cuts creating jobs.”

“Republicans are the ones that say that.”

“Whatever. Just use it. And add that though we didn’t defeat the rich today, we’ll do it one day and make sure no one has money. Off to play golf!” He then left the room.

“We hate him now!” the left screeched.

The aide kicked the wastebasket. “Shut up! No one cares!”

The close election in 2000 was quite a surprise. I didn’t know why we needed a recount, though, since I already won the count. Couldn’t we just go by the count? I guess it all worked out for the best for both of us, though, with me as president and with Gore ranting about ecological disaster while stuffing his face full of Ho Hos. I never did see his movies, but know what I did see? Iron Man. That was a great movie!

–

It was always a good idea to listen to Karl Rove. He just knows so many things like what election strategies work in which districts, how to get our people out to vote, what a soul tastes like…

–

Never quite cared for the White House Press Corps. They say there is no such thing as a stupid question, just stupid people, I just wish there were less stupid people there. Also, I wish their questions weren’t so stupid. I tried coming up with nicknames for them all to be more friendly with them, but I ended up just calling them all “dumbass.”

–

When people said I was lying about Iraq, I got really worried. But it ends up no one did figure out there is no such place as Iraq.

–

One of the most controversial things Donald Rumsfeld asked for was to nuke the U.N. Headquarters to “show the world what happens to incompetent fools who waste our time.” He also asked the same thing of the DNC headquarters. He was such wacky fun. Incidentally, the day after he left office, we noticed one nuke was missing from our stockpiles.

–

I’d say the biggest mistake of my presidency was getting into Lost and expecting the plot to go anywhere.

–

Though it was an accident when Cheney shot someone in the face, he really didn’t need to be carrying his shotgun around at all time and he didn’t need to be constantly pointing it at people’s faces.

–

When I first met Barrack Obama, I tried to be as nice as possible. Eventually, I just had to ask why he had a bucket on his head. That was a big mistake. He started shouting, “Obviously, I was curious whether my head would fit in inside it and then it ended up getting stuck! You are very stupid not to know that! Very very stupid!” He then tried storming out, but walked into a wall and then fell down some stairs. If I had videotape of it, it would be on the YouTubes.

–

One of the worst incidents of my presidency was when Kanye West said during a fundraiser that I don’t “care about black people.” Of course, I was standing right next to him at the time, and I said to him, “Well, my fist cares about your face!” and then I started beating him up. Then people started yelling, “Look! The president is beating up a black person!” It was a big mess. Still, after the event, Kanye West and I headed to Denny’s to get dinner and made up. We’ve been fast friends since.

–

When I finally left the White House, the last thing I did was say good bye to Harry Reid one last time, tossing him out the window while calling him a miserable old failure. He always made the funniest sounds when he hit the ground.

“Why have your own people rejected you?” one of the Indian reporters asked.

“Because they’re racist,” Obama answered. “You should have heard some of the awful slurs they said about you… oh, wait; that was Biden.”

“Do you consider the U.S. and India strong allies?” another reporter asked.

“We certainly do, and I want you to know I will stand strong with you against your enemies the cowboys.”

“That’s the other type of Indian.”

“Oh. Well who are your enemies?”

“Jihadists.”

Obama shook his head. “That’s too bad. I’m against cowboys; I would have helped you against them. But I’ll tell you the same thing I tell people in the U.S. who are concerned with jihadists: Shut up you hillbilly racist. Next question.”

“Is it true that this trip is costing $200 million a day?”

Obama chuckled. “That’s what I had them budget, but I’m getting cheaper hotels so it only costs me $150 million a day. I’m going to make out like a bandit on per diem. Any more questions?”

“What economic advice do you have?”

Obama shrugged. “Oh wow; I dunno. I was kind of coming of here hoping you guys had some jobs we could take.”

“No, we pretty much just take jobs from the U.S.”

“Oh.” Obama thought for a moment. “Well, could you stop doing that?”

“No.”

“Well, I guess that’s all the time I have. Now, I’m going to try to get you guys on the U.N. Security Council, but it really help if you write a long essay on the advantages of inaction. Also, try to make it clear you’re not Jews. Guess I’ll head home now, though there is nothing really to do there… Hey, would you guys like to have expensive legislation you don’t want rammed down your throat?”

“No.”

Obama frowned. “There’s no place in the world left for me.”

“Oh,” the BP official said, “I didn’t think you were going to help.”

“I have been helping,” Obama said, “I’ve been yelling at you to do better. That’s a sort of helping. But then I thought of a way to stop the oil leak for good. Know what that method is?”

“Well… I guess we could–”

“Science!” Obama shouted gleefully. “I thought maybe we could use Science! to stop it.”

“Actually, we’ve been using–”

“I got all the best scientific minds together,” Obama continued, “and they were like, ‘Stop bothering us, Obama!’ Then they made fun of my ears. They were mean scientists and I don’t like them anymore. But in the end, Professor Science! agreed to come and use Science! to stop the oil leak.”

A man in an impressive white lab coat holding a test tube approached the shore. “It is I: Professor Science!, and I will stop this leak using… Science!”

“Yay!” Obama exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly.

“Now stand back, laymen,” Professor Science! said. “Make room for… Science!” Professor Science! approached the shore and held his test tube high. “By the power of Science!, I command the leak to stop!”

Everyone was silent for a few moments, waiting to see if anything happened. “Did it work?” Obama finally asked.

“The Science! on whether an oil leak is slowing is… complicated,” Professor Science! said, “but I think it’s… um… yeah, it’s slowing.”

“Yay for Science!” Obama shouted. “Well, I guess we’re done here. I’m going to go to Arizona now and yell at them for being racist.” He started heading away with Professor Science, telling him, “I read that it was racist on the internet.”

“The internet was made with Science!”

“Wow!”

Alone on the shore, the BP official bowed his head. “I wish I thought of using Science!.”

Barack Obama walked into the Oval office and turned on the lights. He then heard the door slam behind him. He turned around to see a grizzled-looking man. “Who are you?”

“Mr. President, I am former CTU agent Jack Bauer.”

“Oh, thank me,” Obama sighed. “I thought you were a teabagger.”

“I’m here to tell you about a grave threat to this country.”

“Why did you have to sneak in like this? Couldn’t you have gone through official channels?”

“Sir, I didn’t have time.”

“Couldn’t you have texted me?”

“I didn’t have time — I’m really bad at texting. Takes me like ten minutes for a simple reply.”

“Then how do you update your Twitter feed?”

“Sir, we’re getting off topic. There is a threat to this nation from either nuclear or biological weapons… or possibly biological weapons that are radioactive.”

Obama gasped. “That sounds bad!”

“It is very bad, sir.”

“Any idea where this attack might take place?”

“Usually, terrorist attacks occur in the LA area, but that’s started to change in the past few years.”

Obama shook his head. “I don’t like going to LA; I always get attacked by cougars there.”

“I am not surprised. Anyway, to find the details on this attack, I need to use harsh interrogation techniques against a known terrorist we’ve detained. I wanted to get your permission for that.”

Obama thought for a moment. “Alright. If the situation is that dire, I’ll allow you to loudly shout at him.”

“Sir, this will take more than shouting.”

“You want to slap his belly? I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

“I was thinking of a lot more than belly slapping.”

“If you’re suggesting waterboarding, there is no way I’m approving that.”

“Sir, I warm up with waterboarding.”

Obama frowned. “Torture is wrong; you are a bad man. This is why people like me hate America.”

“Sir, I know there is a lot of pressure on you as this nation’s third black president — and the first who isn’t a Palmer — and it has to be scary knowing the last half-dozen presidents all ended up either dead or in prison…”

“I’m hoping for prison!”

“We all are. Anyway, I know there must be a lot of pressure on you, and this must offend your sensibilities, but there is literally a ticking time bomb out there–”

“I would think time bombs these days would use digital timers.”

“Excuse me?”

“They would use digital timers, so there wouldn’t be any ticking. Thus you used the word ‘literally’ incorrectly. I’m very smart.”

“Sir, once again, I think you’re focusing on the wrong things. Tens of thousands of people could die unless I get the information out of that terrorist.”

“Well, Jack, tens of thousands of people die from car accidents each year, so I don’t know why you want me to get all worked up over that. Here’s what I’ll do, though. I’ll release a bunch of prisoners from Gitmo, and we’ll see if that will impress the terrorist enough to talk.”

“This is a man who thinks nothing of murdering children; I sincerely doubt he’ll talk out of the goodness of his heart.”

Obama rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know; you red-staters just want to hurt all the bad men and think that solves everything. Instead of torturing, though, have you ever tried to be his friend? Maybe give him a hug?”

“A hug will not do anything, sir.”

“Maybe you’re hugging wrong. Here, give me a hug so I can see how you’re doing it.”

“Mr. President, I never put my arms around another man without him ending up dead afterward.”

“I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere. Here’s what I’ll do for you, Jack: I’ll try to make sure you have a fair trial for even suggesting torture. I’ll probably have to make an example out of you, though; I don’t want the rest of the world thinking we let people like you still run around.”

The door opened and Joe Biden walked in. “Hey, I just wanted to–”

Bauer immediately got Biden in a choke hold and choked him unconscious.

“Hey! That was the vice president! And the doctors have already been saying he’s not getting enough oxygen to his brain!”

“I’m well aware of who he is, sir; I just didn’t have time to explain things to him.”

“What’s it with you and not having enough time? Sounds like you just need better time management.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. Anyway, I guess I’ll just have to pursue this without your permission. Before I go, though, I want to warn you that I think there is a mole in your administration undermining you from the inside.”

“Really? I thought that was just incompetence.”

Bauer thought about that. “Yeah, I guess that is the more likely explanation.”

“‘Negro’ dialect,” Reid corrected.

“Yes, that. Anyway, he is forgiven and we can get away from this distraction to the important business of the American people.”

Obama and Reid then headed into the White House. As soon as they were inside and the doors were closed, Obama started violently smacking Reid about the head. “Dumb honky!”

“Ahh! Why are you so angry?!” Reid cried. “Was your welfare check late?”

Obama smacked Reid even harder. “For the last time, it’s a government paycheck, not a welfare check! Dumb honky! Now get out of here!”

Reid started to flee for the door, but stopped just before leaving and quickly pulled his wallet out of his suit jacket and then put it back.

Obama ran over and started smacking him again. “Did you just check whether your wallet was still there? Dumb honky! Every time I try to do anything, there always has to be honkies ruining it!”

Reid kept trying to cover his head. “This is why I’m scared of black people!”

Obama kept smacking him. “You only think you’re scared! I will make you scared! Now get out of here!”

Reid got out the door and ran off. Then Vice President Biden entered the room. “Mr. President, we need–”

Obama ran over and started smacking Biden. “Dumb honky!”

“What did I say?!”

Obama kept smacking him. “Nothing yet, but knowing you, you were about to so I decided I might as well get started.”

“You’re crazier than a yellow chinaman!”

“DUMB HONKY!”

“Who was elected president? That’s right: I was. Me. Me me me me me. Ego — that’s Latin for ‘I’. That’s why we’re focusing on things I care about like big social programs like health care and environmental issues like cap & trade. I tried to tie those into the issues you care about claiming they’ll help the economy and create jobs, but I know none of us really believe that so I’m just going to stop with that. Instead, I’m going to be frank with you and say that I don’t care about the economy and I don’t care about terrorism.

“Terrorism and job losses are hold over from the Bush years. If you have a problem with them, go ask him to solve them… or Cheney — he still seems to care. I don’t. I never did. For one thing, unemployment is carbon neutral; why would I want to harm the environment by seeing people go back to work? And I don’t even believe in terrorism; I think that’s just something Bush, Cheney, and Haliburton made up. This whole ‘Islamic extremism’ thing just doesn’t seem real. Have you even read the Quran? It looks pretty made up. So I don’t know why you expect me to do something about this made up problem. I thought I made it pretty clear I don’t care about it at all when I appointed Janet Napalitano as Secretary of Homeland Security.

“So, in conclusion, shut up shut up shut up. Stop bothering me with your stupid problems. I don’t care. I have my progressive agenda to do, and that’s what I’m doing. And stop making fun of me because I walked into a window the other day. Everyone is saying I don’t know the difference between a door and a window and I’m stupid, but that is false. I just couldn’t see clearly because I had a bucket stuck on my head, so you’re the stupid ones.

“Thank you.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Ahmadinejad asked.

“I’m… uh…”

“Have some self respect, man!”

Obama stood back up. “I got you an iPod.”

Ahmadinejad grabbed it greedily. “Neato.”

“It’s got my speeches on it.”

Ahmadinejad hit some buttons on it. “I already deleted them. I got you this.” He handed Obama a little bag.

Obama looked it over. “A bag of rubber bands. Uh… thanks.”

They sat down at at the meeting table. “I just want to say how much more I like you than Bush,” Ahmadinejad said. “That guy was an idiot.”

“And I apologize for him and for my country. You don’t have to worry about that thuggishness anymore, though.”

“I’m glad to hear it. You are a very good man, Obama.”

He smiled. “Thanks. Anyway, I guess I should get right to it. Since we’re in a new era and can trust each other, could you do me a solid and not make nuclear weapons?”

Ahmadinejad was silent for a a while, thinking it over. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to say no.”

“But…”

“The answer is no. I’ve already told everybody I’m going to make nuclear weapons, and I don’t want to be a liar. You understand, right?”

“I guess…”

“And North Korea is working on them, and that guy there is a poofter. If he gets nuclear missiles and I don’t, what will people think of me. It’s an appearances thing you see.”

Obama nodded. “Well, I guess it’s not too bad if it’s just for appearances. Could you at least promise me you won’t use them on Israel?”

Ahmadinejad consider it for a few seconds. “I’m going to have to pass on that.”

“It’s just that…”

“We’re kinda getting into private Iranian affairs here,” Ahmadinejad explained. “I like you and everything, but this really isn’t your business.”

“Okay, I see. Could I at least come away from this meeting with your personal guarantee you won’t use nuclear weapons on America?”

Ahmadinejad thought about that for a few moments. “We’ll consider it. I’ll talk about it with the others, and… well, we’ll see.”

“Thanks… I guess. I think we made some progress. It was great talking to you.”

“And I have to say once again how grateful I am that America elected you and got rid of stupid Bush. I like you much better. All the world leaders agree.”

“Glad to hear it.” Obama stood up and offered his hand to Ahmadinejad.

“Eh… I don’t want to touch you.”

“Uh… okay.” Obama turned to leave and looked out the window. “Where did my car go?”

“We liked it so we took it,” Ahmadinejad said. “You can walk back.”

“You took my car?”

“It’s just how things are here. No big deal. Have a nice walk.”

Obama headed out the door and turned to his Secret Service agent. “I think that went well. World leaders certainly respect me.”

“I’m not your friend; don’t talk to me.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing!” President Obama shouted.

“Well, the stock market is diving every time you speak, and it’s not like your meeting with the Prime Minister of Britain went well.”

* * * *

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, President Obama,” Gordon Brown said as he entered the Oval Office.

“It is a pleasure to meet me,” Obama said very matter of factly. “Everyone wants to meet me. I’m very popular.”

“Yes, well, I wanted to give you these gifts as an offer of friendship. Here is a pen holder carved from the wood of the sister ship of from which your desk is made.”

“A wooden pen holder?” Obama said angrily. “I can hold my own pens! I’m a genius!”

Brown was a bit taken aback. “Yes… well… Here is a seven volume biography of Winston Churchill.”

Obama scrunched his face. “I don’t know who that is or why I should care about him. Anyway, I guess I should give you something…” Obama rummaged through a desk drawer. “Here are twenty-five classic American movies.”

Brown looked through them. “Deuce Bigalow? Naked Gun 33 and a 1/3? These are from the bargain bin at Wal-Mart… and there is only seven of them.”

“Hey! At least one of those is a Must Love Dogs/You’ve Got Mail double feature!”

“Oh, okay…”

“You’re ungrateful!” Obama screamed. “You’ve met the one and only Obama and you’re ungrateful!”

“No, I’m very thankful…”

“I declare war on you! War! WAAAAAR!”

“Please… don’t… I… um… Are you… high?”

* * * *

“We’re you?” Rahm asked.

Obama stared down at his desk and didn’t answer.

“Could you stop snorting coke long enough to answer me!”

“Hey! I’m just doing enough to take the edge off. And I don’t think I did as bad at foreign affairs as Hillary who’s supposed to be so much more experienced!”

* * * *

“Here’s is a reset button to reset the American-Russian relationship.” Hillary handed Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov a red button on a yellow box.

“Um… it doesn’t say reset.”

“Yes it does,” Hillary stated. “My people are very smart and that’s the Russian word they came up with for reset.”

“I know Russian and it doesn’t say reset.”

“It says reset!” Hillary snapped.

“I’m a native speaker of Russian, and–”

Hillary leaped at him and grabbed his throat. “How dare you contradict me! How about I push a big red button and reset your whole @#$% country!”

* * * *

“At least Gibbs explained things to the press very nicely,” Obama said.

“He’s ended his last three press conferences curled in a ball, crying, and wetting himself.”

“That’s Gibbs!” Obama chuckled. “Anyway, I have a new list of enemies I want him to call out. I was looking through some blogs and blog comments, and I wrote down everyone who criticized me. I want him to personally name them and call them traitors. I’ll teach CoolDude447 to call me ‘teh ghey’!”

“I’m not really sure we should be spending time on that,” Rahm said.

“If other things need to get done, can’t you have my vice president what’s-his-name handle it?”

“Biden barely has enough brain power to remember to breathe on a regular basis.”

“Whatever. Soon my troubles with my enemies will be over. I even have troops looking for Rush Limbaugh right now in the mountains on the border of Pakistan.”

“Um… they’re not looking for Limbaugh.”

“But I thought I heard they were looking for America’s number one enemy?”

“They’re looking for Osama,” Rahm explained, “and we’ve had trouble retasking them to anything else.”

* * * *

Buck the Marine got a call on his radio. “Buck here.”

“Buck, you have an order from Obama.”

“I’m already looking for Osama,” Buck answered.

“No, it’s an order from Obama.”

“I don’t take orders from terrorists.”

“No, Obama, in D.C.”

“Osama is in Washington D.C.! He must be up to something big!”

“No, President Obama.”

“Osama has taken over the country and declared himself leader?” Buck exclaimed. “Don’t worry; I’ll lead the resistance from the outside the country.”

“Yeah… um… you do that.”

Rahm Emanuel walked over to Obama with a form. “You said you’d first sign a form closing Gitmo.”

“Fine.” Obama grabbed the form and signed it.

“Uh… You signed it ‘Osama’.”

“Dammit! Not again!” Obama crossed it out and signed it again. “There! Done! Now get me something to sign to help eliminate babies!”

“You really should be focusing on the economy or the war,” Rahm said.

“I don’t care about those! I want to stop babies right now! I hate them so much!”

The phone rang and Obama answered, “Hi, it’s me the president, Obama.”

“It’s Robert Gates. I just want you to know we’ve located some high priority targets.”

“If they’re babies, you have authorization for lethal force!”

“So why do you hate babies so much?” Rahm asked.

“They are a punishment!” Obama shouted. “People adore them when they should be adoring me! They should be telling me how cute I am! I want them gone!”

Rahm handed him another form. “Here, you can sign this and you can lift restrictions on funding international aid groups that fund abortion.”

“Yes!” Obama eagerly signed it. “Take that, babies!”

“Uh… you signed it Osama again.”

“Dammit! Can’t we just make it a legal alias? We’ll save time that way.”

“The press is here to see you,” said a voice over the intercom.

The press entered the Oval Office. “It’s so great to see you, President Obama!” they exclaimed. “You’re the greatest!”

“Thanks!” Obama said. “Do you have any questions?”

“No! We wouldn’t dare question you. We just wanted to tell you how great you are!” The press then left the office.

Obama smiled. “I like the media.”

Biden came into the office. “So anything you need me to do?”

“I need you to stay out of the way and shut your stupid mouth!” Obama shouted. “And your wife’s mouth too! If some cracker assassinates me, you’ll get a call. Until then, I don’t want to hear or see you!”

“You got it,” Biden said as he left.

“That’s talking!” Obama yelled. He turned to Rahm. “That guy is trouble. If he gets too much exposure, he could let out my terrible secret: I’m afraid of black people. Like every time I hug my kids, I instinctively check my wallet.”

“What about your wife?”

“I don’t hug her; that’s why we have that fist bump thing.”

A mustachioed man entered the office. “I’m ready to get to work.”

“Who’s that?” Rahm asked Obama.

“That’s my new consultant I hired: Rarl Kove.”

Rahm looked at him suspiciously. “Okay. I guess I’ll leave you two.” He left the office.

Kove walked over to Obama and whispered, “You know, there is something about that guy I just don’t trust.”

“Yeah, he is kinda weasely. Plus how can I trust someone with such a weird name: Rahm.”

“I don’t know where you’d get that impression,” Cheney grumbled.

“In a hundred years from now, I think people will look back on me as a success,” Bush said.

“The country won’t exist a hundred years from now and you’ll be forgotten.”

“The American people are going to miss me soon.”

“The American people are going to be too busy with a depression to miss anything.”

“I’m president now!” President Obama said as he popped in to the Oval Office.

“Yes, we know Obama,” Bush said. “I just wanted to go over last minute things with you.”

“I’m smart. People elected me because I’m smart,” Obama proclaimed.

“Yes, we know you’re smart, Obama. You keep telling us that.”

Obama scampered across the room. “What’s this?”

“That’s your desk, Obama. That’s where you make decisions.”

“What’s this?”

“That’s a pen, Obama.”

He grabbed the pen greedily. “It’s my pen. I’m the president.”

“Yes, we know, Obama.”

“What’s this?”

“That the self-destruct button for the world. You don’t want to touch that.”

Obama reached for it. “It’s pretty.”

Bush slapped his hand. “No, Obama. Bad president. Don’t touch that.”

“What’s this?”

“That’s a bucket, Obama. I used it for spitting in.”

“I bet my head could fit inside it!”

“I don’t know about that, Obama…”

Obama picked up the bucket and placed it on his head. He then tried to take it off but it wouldn’t budge. “I can’t see!”

“That’s because you have a bucket stuck on your head, Obama.”

“Mah! Bad bucket!” Obama yelled, trying to pull it off as he ran around in a panic. He then accidentally tripped and went out the window.

Cheney leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, we’re in good hands. I don’t know why we were worrying.”

Reid’s aide rushed into the office. “Blagojevich has appointed Roland Burris — a black man — to Obama’s seat!”

Reid shot to his feet. “What! But I thought we successfully destroyed him when we framed him for corruption once we were first found out he was thinking of appointing a black man! The racial purity of the Senate must be protected!”

Al Franken shoved the aide out of the way. “You said when I take my seat, you’d have all the black people gone! I’ll hurt you! Grwaerree!” He came at Reid flailing his arms.

Reid shielded himself. “Calm down, Al Franken! Don’t hurt me! By the time you take your seat, we’ll have this taken care of!”

Franken calmed down a bit. “You better, or me hurt you!” He spotted a piece of paper on the ground. “That’s a vote for me!”

Reid looked at it. “That’s a receipt from Taco Bell.”

“It’s a vote for me! Me hurt you you say otherwise! Grwaerree!” He charged at Reid, flailing his arms again.

“Calm down, Franken! You’re deranged!”

“Don’t call me deranged or I’ll bite you in the eyeball! Grwaerree!”

* * * *

“I don’t know if we should antagonize the white man like this,” Bobby Rush said to Roland Burris. “It will only make things worse.”

“We have to stand up,” Burris said. “Maybe now that a black man is about to be president, we can finally have a black person in the Senate… like there was a couple days ago. That’s a dream of mine I cannot let go.”

“I dunno. The white people are going to hurt us!”

Burris walked towards the Capitol, but blocking the entrance was Harry Reid. “What are you doing here, African American?”

Burris walked right up to him. “Hey! That’s a term we use to call each other; you can’t call us that!”

“Why? What are you going to do, African American,” Reid sneered. “I’ve worked tirelessly to make the Senate racially pure. Tossing out Barack Obama to the presidency to further that goal wasn’t easy, but now I’m not going to let some uppity African American ruin that!”

“I’ve always been humble,” Burris said, “it even says so on my monument I made — but people must stand up to bigotry.”

“And do what?”

Burris looked at the Senate thugs Reid had brought with him. “I guess you win for now, but don’t think this is over. The fight for racial equality will continue!” Burris marched away.

“Not while I’m alive!” Reid pumped his fist in the air and chanted with the crowd. “Democrat power! Democrat power!”

“Oh no!” Maliki exclaimed. “Shoe is grave insult since it rhymes with joo!”

“What kind of dumb baby throws a shoe?” Bush rubbed his forehead. “In America, we express disapproval in a much more civilized manner… such as waving signs while screeching like howler monkeys being slaughtered alive.”

Another shoe flew forward and hit Bush. “Ow! What the frick?”

“You are imperialist pig dog!” the shoe-thrower yelled. “I hate all of America… except Barack Obama. He seems nice.”

“That’s it!” Bush exclaimed. “I’m going to show him what we consider to be a grave insult in America! Hold him down while I urinate on his face!”

* * * *

Bush sat down at his desk in the Oval Office. “It’s nice to be back home where people keep their shoes on their feet. Also, less Muslims.”

Oliver Stone came into the office. “I had a meeting with you.”

“Aren’t you that guy who made a movie about me?” Bush asked. “One I was pretty sure was making fun of me… except I didn’t see it because it didn’t look that interesting.”

“No one saw it,” Stone said, “but I want to make a new movie. I want to buy the movie rights to the shoe throwing incident.”

“Why?”

Stone leaned in close and whispered, “There was more than one shoe-thrower.”

Bush looked shocked. “It was just that guy Muntader al-Zaidi who threw the shoes.”

“That’s what the government wants you to think!” Stone took a photograph out of a folder. “The first shoe was indisputably a right foot shoe, correct?”

“Yeah! It hit me in the head.”

“I had a photo blown up of the second shoe flying through the air, though.” Stone laid down the photo in front of Bush. “Look at the curvature on it. It’s clearly also a right foot shoe. That means the shoes couldn’t have come from one person!”

“Holy crap! But who would put out this lie about the lone shoe-thrower?”

Stone stared at Bush intensely. “The CIA.”

Bush frowned. “I know they didn’t like what they got for funding this last fiscal year, but getting shoes thrown at me seems a little much.”

“We’re going to expose this!” Stone said. “Just let me make the movie.”

Bush was unconvinced. “You’re not going to have Josh Brolin play me again, are you?”

“No. It’s going to be a chimp on a unicycle.”

Dick Cheney entered the office. Bush turned to him and said excitedly. “The shoes getting thrown at me was a conspiracy and a chimp is going to play me in the movie of it. Everyone likes chimps.”

Cheney walked over, picked up Stone, and threw him out the window.

“You threw Oliver Stone out the window!” Bush shouted.

“That’s who that was? I thought he looked familiar.”

“You know, the Secret Service said if people keep falling out that window, they’re going to put bars on it.”

Cheney shrugged. “Whatever. We’re almost done here.”

Vice President Cheney shrugged his shoulders. “Meh.”

“Come on! Aliens have landed and they want to talk to me! I’m going to be the first president to make contact with aliens. That’s gotta be considered more exciting than being the first black president. I’ll bet I’ll be popular after this!”

“You might get a five point peaceful-contact-with-aliens bump in your approval rating.”

“Yee-haw! I can’t wait!”

The limousine came to a stop and Bush jumped out. In the desert had landed a giant flying saucer. A platform lowered from its center bringing three thin, gray being with large black eyes to the ground. “We wish to speak to the leader of Earth,” one said.

“That’s me… for about a month and a half more!” Bush called.

“We bring a message of peace,” the alien said.

“Awesome!”

“And we would also like to let your people know we are willing to do menial labor for below minimum wage.”

Bush’s face sunk. “Aww crap.”

* * * *

Bush sat around the oval office contemplating his situation. “If you have an economic crisis, space aliens landing and taking jobs probably ain’t going to help, is it?” he asked Cheney.

“Nope. You kinda brought this on yourself, you know.”

“I didn’t know our lax immigration laws were known throughout the galaxy! And if anything, this proves fences wouldn’t help.” Bush thought for a moment. “Unless they were really really tall. Hey, so how are my approval ratings doing?”

“Your approval rating is less than the margin of error. Basically what that’s saying is the people who said they approve of your job performance might not have understood the question.”

“Man! This just keeps getting worse! What can I do to convince the American people I’m not a total screw up and get my ratings up before I leave office? I mean, I didn’t let us get his by terrorists again.”

“Eh, no one cares.”

“Well, do you think wearing an important looking hat might help get people to respect me again?”

“Like with a big feather plume or something?”

“Yeah.”

Cheney thought about that. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll see if Obama has any ideas. He’s going to be president soon, so this will be his mess.” He picked up the phone and called Obama. “Hey, Barry, it’s Dubya. I was wondering if you or your staff has any ideas what to do about the space aliens.”

“Yes, we have many excellent plans of what to do about that problem.”

“Like what?”

“I’d rather keep them to myself until I’m ready to implement them.”

“Could you give me a hint, though?”

“No, but they are super-smart plans that will solve everything.”

“I don’t think you actually have any plans.”

“I have many plans. In fact, I have more plans than I need and actually tossed out some perfectly good plans to make room for better plans.”

“You’re dumb and stupid and you don’t have any plans!” Bush hung up the phone and looked to Cheney. “I like that guy; he’s smart.”

Bush’s intercom buzzed. “Someone with a mustache is here to see you,” Bush’s secretary said.

“Is he gay or Mexican?”

“He’s openly Mexican.”

“Okay, send him in.” Bush looked to Cheney. “You have to be careful; gays have been really violent lately.”

Juan Hernandez came into the room. “We have a problem we need to talk about, Mr. President.”

“Wow, you have a smile that makes me not want to trust anything you say,” Bush remarked.

“Yes, I am often told this. Anyway, these illegal aliens from space are unacceptable! They are taking jobs from hard working earthling illegal aliens!”

“You know, technically no one is supposed to be crossing our border to do work.”

“Don’t speak to me of such nonsense!” Juan said. “You need to do something about the illegal space aliens!”

“Well, it’s not like I can deport them. They live in space, so that would cost like billion and billions and billions of dollars… if I knew where their home planet was. Plus, if I tell them to leave they could get angry, and they might have death rays and stuff.”

“Would you rather have space aliens shooting death rays at you or make the Mexicans angry?” Juan asked.

“I don’t want the Mexicans angry at me,” Bush said. “I guess I’ll talk to them.”

* * * *

Bush headed over to the space aliens who were hanging out in front of the Home Depot. “We need to talk.”

“Work has been good. People are turned off by our odd appearance, but they like how we speak English. Do you have work for me? I am particularly good at lawn care,” one of the aliens said. “Space travel is expensive; it has left us with no money so we need need the work. By the way, that is a very important hat you’re wearing.”

“Thanks.” Bush fiddled idly with the feather. “Anyway, the thing is…” Another spacecraft landed in the Home Depot parking lot. Out of it came some more gray aliens and also some Middle Eastern men. “Um… are those Arabs?”

“We had to make a stop in the Middle East and some people there wanted a ride into your country. I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“See, I kinda mind. Do you have borders on your home planet?”

“Yes, we do.”

“And how would you feel if people ignored them?” Bush asked.

“That would be a grave insult. We would disintegrate the interlopers.”

“Okay… well, then maybe you see how you coming here to do work might be a problem.”

“We thought you didn’t mind,” the alien said. “We are only doing the work others won’t since we’re already doing it for cheaper.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to have to ask you to stop.”

“This angers us. You implicitly invited us with your lax immigration enforcement and then tell us to leave? For this, we may come back and conquer your planet and enslave your people.”

“Okay, just don’t do it until after January 20th so I don’t get blamed.”

The aliens got into their spaceships and flew away. Bush took out his cellphone and called Cheney. “So, how did it go?” Cheney asked.

“They were pretty reasonable. I got them to leave, but they may come back and conquer Earth.”

Cheney was silent for a moment. “Did you tell them about Halliburton in case they needed military contracts.”

Bush sighed. “No, Dick. No I didn’t.”

“We get it, Obama,” one of the press answered.

“Anyway, Biden and I are here to introduce our new national security team.”

“Hi, everybody. Good be here,” Biden said.

“I’m limiting him to five words per statement to try and limiting him saying anything embarrassing,” Obama explained.

Biden put his hand on Obama’s shoulder. “Clean and articulate, though black.”

“Are we supposed to know who that old white guy is?” one reporter whisper to another.

“I think he’s who Obama ran against.”

“The first cabinet position I will announce,” Obama said, “is my choice for Secretary of State: Hillary Clinton.”

Hillary Clinton stepped up to the podium. “It will be my pleasure to serve this administration, and I hope it will be a great success on the international stage. If it’s not, though, I plan to resign in a very public manner while blaming all of Obama’s failing on not listening to me.”

“Do you still plan to follow up on your vow to ‘swallow his soul’?”

“That’s a personal matter between me and him,” Hillary answered.

“At least we didn’t get another black person with a funny name,” Biden remarked. “‘Condoleeza’. Come on!”

“That’s more than five words, Biden.” Obama looked back to the press. “The next cabinet position I’m announcing is Secretary of Defense — Robert Gates.”

Robert Gates walked over to the podium. “Obama was unable to find any Democrat who didn’t vomit and wet himself at the thought of violence, so he asked if I’d stay at this job.”

“You promised change,” a reporter said to Obama, “but so far you’ve announce someone closely associated with the Clinton Administration and a Bush appointee. How is this change?”

“Let me be clear,” Obama said. “My promises of change during the campaign were empty words. Empty meaningless words I said to get stupid people excited about me and give me money — stupid, disgusting, dimwitted people who were easily manipulated by empty phrases.”

“Everyone here smells!” someone yelled. Everyone turned around to see an old man wandering around in bathrobe looking confused.

“Reid, I told you to stay in your office and get a nap!” Obama yelled. “Anyway, let’s continue. My choice for Attorney General is Eric Holder.”

Eric Holder walked to the podium. “With Elian Gonzales, you all saw how I don’t have a problem pointing a machine gun at a small child. Think of what I’ll do to criminals.”

“Probably nothing,” one reporter remarked.

“Who was that?” Holder shouted. “Was that FOX News? Someone point a machine gun at him!”

“Moving on,” Obama said, “My choice for Secretary of Homeland Security is Janet Napolitano. She lived in a border state.”

“So what are your qualifications to secure the United States?” a reporter asked Napolitano.

“I can see Mexico from my house!” Napolitano answered.

“Hey, you know how hard it is to find any Democrat who knows anything about security,” Obama explained, “and I needed at least one woman in my national security team.”

“What about Hillary?” a reporter asked.

“What about her? Anyway, the last position to announce is National Security Advisor, and I found like a Marine General for the position.”

James Jones the Marines took the podium. “I have never been around such a bunch of dickless sissies, and I have not stopped vomiting since agreeing to be a part of the Obama administration.”

Obama patted him on the back. “That’s part of the differing opinions I want to have in my cabinet.”

“Don’t touch me!” Jones snapped. “You’ll get gay on me!”

Obama chuckled. “So these are the people that when a crisis happens I’ll call them into my office and say to them, ‘I have no idea what’s happening! I’m in over my head! Someone please do something! For the love of all that’s good and decent, won’t someone qualified please do something!’”

“We won’t let you down!” Biden said.

“You’re not part of the team,” Obama replied. “I only said you could stand on stage in front of the press if you’d be relatively quiet.” He looked to Hillary. “And you — stop rubbing your hands together evilly. It’s freaking me out.”

Obama sat there silently.

“Furthermore,” Ahmadinejad continued, “I will destroy Israel and dance around its stinking corpse!”

Obama said nothing.

“I also plan to obtain nuclear weapons and use them against the Jews. Or America. Maybe against Jewish Americans.”

Obama did not respond.

“By the way, in honor of your visit, we’re hanging a teenager for being a homosexual and stoning a woman for being raped. Then we’re throwing a small child into a pit of snakes for conspiring with the infidel Elmo.”

Obama continued to be silent, not even looking directly at Ahmadinejad but somewhat past him.

“I will destroy America!” Ahmadinejad shouted. “I will then dance around its stinking corpse which will be a much bigger stinking corpse than Israel’s — like a beached whale. And I will be able to destroy America because I have the power of Grayskull… I mean Allah!”

Obama said not a word.

Ahmadinejad shot to his feet. “I mock and deride America’s freedom! I spit on it, and I spit on you!” He spat on Obama.

Obama didn’t even move.

“I will destroy everything you hold dear. Freedom will be destroyed! I think so little of you and your country that I shall urinate upon you!” Ahmadinejad pulled down his pants and peed on Obama’s leg. “There! I am urinating on you and… Oh. I got a little on myself. This may have been a little overboard. Anyway, I have urinated mainly on you; do you have nothing to say?”

Obama had nothing to say.

“Furthermore…” Ahmadinejad grabbed one of Obama’s shoes and pulled it off. He then squatted over it. “I am now defecating in your shoe! This is how little I think of you and your country! Say something, fool! Say something now that I have pooed in your shoe!”

Obama finally looked directly at Ahmadinejad and motioned for him to come closer. When Ahmadinejad did, Obama whispered in his ear, “They’re still loading my teleprompter.”

Ahmadinejad looked around and then whispered back, “Well… how long will that take?”

“I don’t know. It seems to be malfunctioning. It could take a few minutes.”

Ahmadinejad thought for a moment and then whispered, “So what do we talk about until then?”

“Um… well… did you see Gossip Girl last night?”

AIDE: Syria is attacking Israel. You have to act now!

OBAMA: Just one moment; I’m checking the dimensions of this bucket… Ahh! My head is stuck in the bucket!

AIDE: We need a decision!

OBAMA: Who’s talking? I can’t hear or see; I have a bucket on my head!

* * * *

AIDE: Iran has nuclear weapons and are threatening to use them!

OBAMA: I don’t want to hear about it unless it’s about getting this bucket off my head.

AIDE: But sir, we need…

OBAMA: I’m going to try pounding it against a wall; maybe that will help.

* * * *

AIDE: Al Qaeda is attacking!

OBAMA: Who is attacking? I told you I have trouble hearing with this bucket on my head.

AIDE: Sir, maybe you should invoke Amendment 25 until you get the bucket off of your head.

OBAMA: There’s no need for that! I can handle many things at once. I am a very smart man. In fact, the only reason I have a bucket stuck on my head is my insatiable curiosity. Would you rather an incurious… Are you still here? Hello?

* * * *

AIDE: Russia is invading Georgia… and I don’t mean the country!

OBAMA: Not Russia! They’re going to make fun of me for having a bucket stuck on my head!

BIDEN: Don’t worry! I’m here to help!

OBAMA: Who?

BIDEN: Joe Biden.

OBAMA: Who?

BIDEN: Your Vice President. You selected me for my foreign policy experience.

OBAMA: I don’t remember that.

BIDEN: Well, I am very smart, and I know exactly what to do here… Ahh! Now my head is stuck in a bucket too!

OBAMA: Ow! Keep your bucket away from my bucket!

AIDE: (sigh) I’ll go tell Pelosi she is acting president.