This weekend anti-war whack-jobs took to the streets in a last push to preserve murderous regimes.
“War argh gurgle oil ergh BAD!” one of the more coherent protestors was heard to say.
The Whitehouse seemed unperturbed by all the demonstrations.
“I think the president welcomes the fact that we are a democracy and people in the United States, unlike Iraq, are free to protest and to make their case known,” said Whitehouse Press Secretary Ari Fleischer at a press conference, never once looking up from the Gameboy Advance in his hands.
“But what about the protestors who were beaten with their own ‘No Blood for Oil’ signs by men who claimed to have been paid by the Whitehouse?” asked one reporter.
“I think the president welcomes the fact that we are a democracy and people in the United States, unlike Iraq, are free to yadda yadda yadda,” Fleischer responded, now staring at the Gameboy quite intensely, apparently fighting a boss monster in the game Metroid Fusion that he was playing.
“You’re not even paying attention to us!” shouted another reporter.
Fleischer then angrily chucked his Gameboy at the reporter, striking him in the head. “There, I paid you some attention.”
“Ow! That hurt!” cried the reporter.
“Ow! That hurt!” Fleischer repeated in a high-pitch, mocking voice.
“You’re the meanest press secretary ever!” the man yelled before running out of the press conference crying.
“Anyone else want to waste my time with one of your idiotic questions?” Fleischer asked angrily.
Helen Thomas then stood up.
“Merciful God, please kill me now,” Fleischer was heard muttering.
“Why does Bush want to kill Iraqi children?” Helen Thomas asked, “What did Iraqi children ever do to him?”
“Here, I have a question for you,” Fleischer respond, “Why won’t you die, you shriveled, old hag? What sort of unholy agreement do you have with Satan to keep your body living long after your mind has expired?”
“Where’s my cat?” Thomas demanded, “Your talk of war has scared away my cat!”
“For the last time, Helen, your cat died thirty years ago!” said an exasperated Fleischer. “Someone please watch her. Any other questions?”
“Do you ever find it intimidating working with such a brilliant strategist as President Bush?” asked President Bush, poorly disguised with a mustache.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m trying to hide from Rumsfeld,” whispered Bush, “I’m afraid that once he finds out we haven’t started war yet, he’s going to break my legs.”
“I did see him walking around earlier with his leg-breaking sledgehammer.”
“So, Ari, can we go ‘debate’ the protestors like you said we would.”
“Sure, did you bring your ‘argument’?”
Bush held up a metal pipe. “Sure did– but I flooded the bathroom getting it.”
Fleischer pulled out a baseball bat from behind the podium. “Let’s roll.”
“But we still have more questions!” protested one reporter. He was then struck with a bat, surprising no one.