“What are you guys doing?” White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan asked as he approached President Bush, Dick Cheney, and Donald Rumsfeld who were all wearing black leather jackets and wielding weapons of switchblades, bats, and chains.
“We’re starting a biker gang called the Warmongerers,” Bush answered.
“Is that a good idea?” Scott inquired dubiously.
“All the cool presidents were in biker gangs in their spare time,” Bush explained, “Reagan cracked skulls every weekend, Nixon stabbed more people that you can count, Eisenhower was wanted by the law in most states, Teddy Roosevelt used to exercise his big stick while speeding on his hog, and Lincoln used to jump school buses on his Harley.”
“Enough talking,” Rumsfeld said, “I want to smash something!”
“You coming,” Cheney asked Scott.
“I don’t know if this is smart,” Scott said.
“The guy is a dweeb,” Bush remarked, “Let’s ditch him.”
“I’m not a dweeb!” Scott protested.
“Uh oh; my old lady is coming!” Bush exclaimed, “Everyone act cool.”
Laura Bush walked by and looked at the four of them. “This looks suspiciously like a biker gang,” she commented.
“No, we’re just getting ready for Bible study, ain’t we guys?” Bush said. Rumsfeld and Cheney nodded in agreement.
“Mr. McClellan, is this true?” Laura asked Scott.
Bush pointed a switchblade at Scott and gave him a stern look. “Uh… yeah… Bible study,” Scott answered.
“Alright,” Laura said, not looking quite convinced, “but I better not hear otherwise later.”
She walked off, all the while keeping an eye on the four until she was out of sight.
“Thanks for covering for us, Scott,” Bush told him, “You can be part of the gang now. We all have cool biker names.” He pointed to Rumsfeld. “He’s Mad Dog.” Then to Cheney. “He’s Chainman Charlie… and I’m Tex. Your biker name will be ‘Skippy’.”
“Skippy?”
Condoleezza Rice then walked by. “Hey, Condi,” Bush called out, “Do you want to be a biker slut?”
“Someone has to stay here and keep watch of the country,” she answered.
“But it’s the weekend!” Bush exclaimed, “International incidents never happen on the weekend.”
“Hey, do you want Colin Powell trying to make peace with everyone while we’re all gone?” Condi asked.
“Okay, stay,” Bush grumbled. He then turned to his gang. “Let’s get rolling!”
“Yeah!” Rumsfeld and Cheney shouted, while Scott looked warily at one of the motorcycles.
“I’ve never driven one of these before,” Scott said, “Do you at least have some helmets.”
“Of course not,” Cheney answered, “If I wreck my hog, I don’t want to live!”
“Just get rolling, Skippy,” Bush commanded, “Time to show this town who the real badasses are!”

“Yee-ha!” Bush shouted as he rode his Harley over the top of the French ambassador’s limousine.
“I surrender!” squealed the ambassador.
“Not accepted, Pierre!” Cheney answered, smashing one of the limo’s windows with his chain as he rode by.
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld shouted, smashing the windshield with his bat.
“Now hit him with the Molotov cocktail, Skippy!” Bush called out to Scott.
Scott threw a bottle at the limo, which shattered and splashed liquid everywhere to no effect.
“You’re supposed to light it, dumbass!” Cheney yelled.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not very experienced with this sort of thing,” Scott said.
The limo drove off. “Aww, he got away!” Bush whined. “You have to shape up, Skippy.”
“I’m trying,” Scott said, “but did I really have to get a green mohawk?”
“Hey, we decided one of us needed to have a mohawk and it was a 3 to 1 vote that it should be you,” Bush said.
“I want some drinking!” Cheney yelled.
“And I want some fighting!” Rumsfeld shouted.
“Off to the biker bar!” Bush yelled as he drove off, Rumsfeld and Cheney following with Scott wobbling far behind.
Soon they were to a shady looking bar and parked their motorcycles. “We need to find the toughest guy in their and beat him up,” Bush told his gang, “That will show everyone we’re boss.”
“I don’t know if this is all legal,” Scott stated uneasily.
“We’re above the law!” Rumsfeld shouted.
They entered the bar and Bush walked over to the bartender. “Who is the toughest guy here?”
“That would be Murder’n Carl,” the bartender said, pointing over to a massive man who looked quite unstable, “He just got out of jail… for murder!”
“Thinks he’s so tough because he’s ripped people apart with his bare hands,” Bush scoffed, “Go beat the crap out of him, Skippy.”
“What?”
“Hey, Murder’n Carl!” Bush yelled, “Skippy says the reason they let you out of prison is because you’re such a pansy!”
“Then Skippy is dead!” Murder’n Carl yelled, grabbing Scott and lifting him into the air.
“Eep.” Scott uttered as his life passed before his eyes.
“Hey, look over there, Tex” Cheney told Bush.
At a nearby table sat the Warmongerers’ rivals. “Hey, Scott,” Bush called out, “Stop getting beaten up by the murderer for a second and get over here.”
Dizzy and in pain, Scott stumbled over to Bush. “What?”
“See over there?” Bush said, pointing at the table, “There’s our rival gang, the Hell’s Democrats.”
“That’s Governor Howard Dean, Representative Richard Gephardt, Senator Ted Kennedy, and Senator John Kerry,” Scott stated, a bit surprised.
“Yeah, but in the biker world they are known respectively as The Dean, Dick the Knife, Big Fat Teddy K, and By the Way I Served in Vietnam.”
“Let’s kill ’em!” Rumsfeld shouted.
“Be cool, Mad Dog,” Bush said, and then slowly walked over to the Hell’s Democrats. “So,” he chuckled, “If it isn’t Deany Weenie, John Fairy, Big Fat Teddy Gay, and Dick… uh…” He thought for a moment. “Gephardt… Gephardt… What sounds like Gephardt?” He looked back to the Hell’s Democrats. “….and Dick Dumbfart.” Bush turned to his own gang. “Best I could come up with on short notice.”
The Hell’s Democrats all stood up. “We’re going to rule this town!” Kerry shouted, “Just like I ruled when I was in Vietnam!”
“Yeah, you ain’t so tough!” Dean said.
Big Fat Teddy K just chewed on a shank of ham.
“You guys think you can beat us,” Bush laughed, “but you’re just a bunch of jokers. By this time next year, the economy will have improved and we’ll have found WMD’s in Iraq… and then we’ll make you eat them!”
Big Fat Teddy K just laughed.
“Hey, Chainman Charlie,” Gephardt said snidely, “I see you ain’t in hiding no more.”
“Keep it up and the undisclosed location my foot will be in is your ass!” Cheney threatened.
“You guys are all talk, and I know talk, having been in Vietnam,” Kerry said.
“You’re soon going to be known as the haughty, French-looking Massachusetts Democrat, who by the way served in Vietnam and got ripped a new one by Rumsfeld!” Rumsfeld shouted.
Senator Joe Liberman then showed up. “Hey! There is no need for violence,” he said, “I think we can settle this in a bipartisan…”
“Quiet, Jew-boy!” Big Fat Teddy K shouted as he broke a pool cue over Liberman’s head.
“I’m gonna cut me a ‘publican!” Gephardt yelled, pulling out a knife.
“Now why don’t you guys back off before you get hurt,” Dean said with a smirk.
“Know what,” Bush said, “I think it’s time for a preemptive strike… AGAINST YOUR FACE!” Bush then punched Howard Dean. Cheney whipped out his chain and knocked down Dick Gephardt.
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld shouted as he picked up John Kerry and tossed him across the room.
“Grerawerr!” Big Fat Teddy K snarled as he charged Scott who quickly tried to hide under a table.
“Eep.”

“I keep telling you,” Condi said with frustration over the phone, “I had the nuclear launch codes, but I misplaced them. Now, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if Finland isn’t nuked by the time the President gets back… Yeah, that’s right; he explicitly ordered Finland to be nuked while he was away… Hey, I’m not the one who is going to lose his job if Finland exists an hour from now… Yes, and he approved me to get that pizza on his credit card… President Bush is going to be so mad if he heard you denied me that pizza!”
“You in here, Dr. Rice?” Colin Powell called out from the hallway.
“Don’t come in the war room!” Condi shouted, quickly trying to hide her map of the world with marks on it such as “Bomb here”, “Invade here”, and “Genocide here”. “I’m not decent!”

“You were supposed to have the pardons on you!” Cheney said angrily to Bush.
Rumsfeld just snarled and held onto the prison bars.
“I’m sorry!” Bush exclaimed, “I left them in my other biker jacket!”
“I can’t believe it!” Scott cried, “I’m actually in prison!”
“Keep coo’ yo,” Bush told him, “Keep coo’.”
“Okay, you troublemakers,” the police chief said, “I’m letting you guys out for one press conference.”
“Put a good spin on all this,” Bush ordered Scott as they walked out to the prison steps where the press was waiting.
“Is it true that Bush and his administration is involved in a violent biker gang called the ‘Warmongerers’?” asked one reporter.
“Now that’s just silly,” Scott said with a forced laugh.
“The French ambassador has told the police you harassed him,” said another reporter.
“I’ll murder him dead!” Bush shouted.
Scott raised his hand to silence Bush. “As we all know, the French are a race of liars,” Scott told the press, “Only a fool would believe anything they say. Any other questions?”
Melinda Hawkish from Fox News stepped forward. “That green mohawk you have is so gay.”
“That’s not a question,” Scott answered with annoyance.
“Uh oh; my old lady is coming!” Bush shouted, “Everyone hide your microphones and cameras.”
“What’s happening here?” Laura Bush demanded.
“We’re just having a Bible study, dear,” Bush answered innocently.
“On the steps of the police station?” Laura asked with suspicion.
“Yes; Police Chief O’Malley was nice enough to let us have our study here.”
“Is that true, Chief O’Malley?”
He looked into the air. “Uh… sure, it’s true.”
“And why does Mr. McClellan have a mohawk?” Laura asked.
“You know Scott,” Bush said with laugh, “He’s an idiot; doesn’t know how to present himself for Bible study.”
“It’s true; I am an idiot ma’am,” Scott stated.
Laura kept looking at them all with suspicion. “From the clueless expression on these people here, they look a lot like reporters,” Laura said, “Reporters assembled to hear a story about some lawlessness related to a biker gang.”
“It’s nothing like that, honey,” Bush stated, “We’re just studying our Bible stories.”
“Which story are you studying, then?” Laura inquired.
“Uh… the one where Jesus… uh… fights the lions and… uh… blows up the Death Star.”
“That doesn’t sound like a real Bible story!” Laura exclaimed.
“Uh, Mrs. Bush,” Scott interjected, “You see, being a bunch of doofuses, we forgot our Bibles and had to try and draw the stories from memory… and… well, we’re all really dumb.”
“It’s true,” Bush said and everyone nodded in agreement.
“Alright then,” Laura said beginning to walk away as she kept a stern stare at Bush, “I’m heading to the store and am going to pick up your diarrhea medicine.”
“Thanks, dear,” Bush said with a smile while everyone snickered.
Once Laura was out of view, everyone let out a sigh of relief. “That was a close one,” Bush said, and then patted Scott on the back. “Quick thinking there, Skippy. You’ll make a great member of our violent biker gang yet.” He then remembered the press was still there. “Which does not actually exist and did not smash up the German ambassador’s limo.”
“It was the French ambassador’s limo we didn’t smash up,” Cheney reminded him.
“Oh yeah,” Bush laughed, smacking himself in the forehead.
“Grerawerr!” came a snarl from nearby.
“It’s Big Fat Teddy K looking for revenge!” Bush exclaimed, pushing Scott into the charging beast’s path.
“Eep.”

Part I
Part II
“Place could be booby-trapped,” Bush declared, “Scott, open the door.”
“Why do I…”
“Stop being such a pansy!”
“Okay.” Scott carefully opened the door to the White House while Bush, Buck, and Zatoichi watched. “Man, looks like the place was trashed!” he exclaimed.
Garbage littered the floors. Most of the furniture was overturned. “Terrorist attack,” Bush ventured.
Ichi sniffed around. “Smells like… kegger party.”
Bush then spotted his two daughters. “Jenna and Barbara, did you throw an all night kegger party at the White House?”
“I’m Barbara and she’s Jenna,” Barbara said angrily.
“Whatever. You two are twins; how am I supposed to tell you apart?”
“We’re not identical twins,” Jenna exclaimed, “We don’t even look alike in the least.”
“Fine; not stop avoiding the question. Did you trash my White House?”
“It’s not your White House, Mr. Not-President,” Barbara answered, “Dr. Rice said we could use it for our parties.”
“You don’t listen to Condi; you listen to your father!” Bush demanded.
“Hey, at least she gives us money,” Jenna responded.
“I stopped giving you money at college because I know all you do is spend it on booze. What is she giving you money for?”
“She’s paying us ten bucks an hour to help her take over the world,” Barbara explained.
“You shouldn’t help her!” Bush exclaimed, “She’s evil!”
His two daughters both rolled their eyes. “Yeah, she’s the one who is evil,” Jenna laughed, “I heard about the mean, sexist things you said to her.”
“You really should apologize,” Barbara added.
“She’s just being too sensitive,” Bush insisted, “Now where is her secret fortress?”
“We’re not telling you,” Jenna said. She then turned to Barbara. “Let’s get going. Dr. Rice said we can pick the next country to bomb.”
“Why don’t you and your friends go back to your ranch in Texas and play war there?” Barbara commented derisively as she followed Jenna.
“You should discipline your daughters better,” Ichi stated.
Bush scoffed. “Why does every blind samurai without children think he knows better how to raise my daughters?”
“What mean sexist things did you say?” Buck asked.
“Forget it, Buck,” Bush commanded, “The important thing is I get back my presidency without apologizing.”
Just then Laura Bush walked into the White House. “Oh dear!” she exclaimed, looking at the mess in complete and utter horror. “White House tours start in an hour. They’ll think I’m the worst first lady ever!”
“It was all Barbara and Jenna’s doing now that they’re working for Condi,” Bush told her, “Or was it Jenna and Barbara? Which one has red hair?”
“Neither,” Laura answered angrily, “and I can see why they would act like this when their father sets such a bad example. If you just had apologized to Dr. Rice for being so sexist, we would have never had this mess.”
Bush groaned. “It’s like people think I’m supposed to apologize every time I do something wrong; it’s ridiculous.” He turned to Scott, Buck, and Ichi. “Let’s try and find that secret fortress.”
“We could follow your daughters,” Ichi suggested.
“Good thinking, Ichi,” Bush responded, “I’ll drive and you keep an eye on them.”
Ichi shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”
Bush fixed his cowboy hat. “An idiot who’s getting his presidency back.”

Bush, Scott, Buck, and Zatoichi slowly approached Condoleezza Rice’s secret fortress. “I always knew there was something suspicious about this hollowed out volcano just outside of D.C.,” Bush remarked.
Suddenly a gunshot hit near them and they all ran for cover behind a large rock. “Is that Barbara shooting at us?” Bush asked, peeking out from behind the rock.
“It’s Jenna!” she answered angrily as another shot flew just past Bush’s head.
“Barbara is watching us from the other sniper tower,” Buck commented, “I think we’re pinned down.”
“You can get passed them,” Bush told Ichi, “They can’t see you.”
“That’s invisible!” Ichi exclaimed with annoyance, “Blind means I can’t see them!”
“Geez; come down, Ichi.”
“We need a diversion,” Buck said, “Someone to draw their fire.”
All eyes went to Scott. “What?”
“Run out there Scott and distract them,” Bush commanded.
“But… uh… I don’t want to get shot.”
“Don’t be such a baby,” Bush said, “They’re just firing paintballs.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah,” Bush answered, shoving Scott out from cover. Scott then started running.
“God, is that guy gullible,” Bush chuckled, “Now let’s get going!”
Bush, Buck, and Ichi ran for the fortress’s entrance, with Bush guiding Ichi along by holding on to his cane. Once they got to the entrance, they heard Scott yell, “Ahh! My leg!”
“Should we go help him?” Buck asked.
“That’s what they want us to do,” Bush answered, “She wounds someone so she can pick the rest off as we try and help him. I’ve seen Jenna do this before, and I ain’t falling for it again.”
“It was Barbara who shot him,” Ichi remarked.
“Who can tell them apart,” Bush exclaimed.
There was another gunshot. “Ahh! My other leg!” Scott yelled.
“You’re doing great, Scott!” Bush called out to him, “Way to take one for the team!” Bush then prepared to open the door to the fortress. “Everyone get ready.”
Inside were six military death machines. Bush and Buck charged firing their machine guns while Zatoichi drew his sword and came in swinging. “Who’s the leader of the Executive Branch?” Bush yelled as he blew up the last of them.
“Blowing up robots is kinda fun,” Buck declared with a smile. “If I can’t become a Marine again, I think I’ll get a job as a robot exterminator.”
“You’ll get your job back,” Bush declared as he charged forward. They soon came to a large room where Condi sat at a throne at the far end.
“Ha!” Bush laughed, “Your military death machines fight like they were made by a girl!”
“I’ll make you eat your words,” Condi declared as she stood up. She wore a costume of green with a purple cape and mask.
“Wow!” Bush exclaimed, “You have villainess costume and everything!”
“I take my job seriously,” Condi said, “Unlike some people.” She then pressed a button on a remote control and even larger robots now came after Bush and his company. “Let’s see how you do against my new and improved models. Muh ha ha ha!”
Bush and Buck fired their guns, but their bullets bounced off their metal hides. Ichi’s sword clang uselessly against them. The three then cowered in the center of the room while the robots surrounded them.
“I think we might be done for, chief,” Buck declared.
“Ichi, use your ninja magic or something,” Bush said.
“I’m a samurai!” Ichi yelled with annoyance, and then swung his cane hitting Buck in the head. “Sorry; I’m not so magically attuned to my other senses when I’m mad.”
“It’s alright,” Buck said as he looked at the deadly robots and tried to contemplate what to do.
“There’s an extra secret ingredient to these robots,” Condi said. A wall opened up and there was Chomps in a cage and Rumsfeld chained to the wall. “I’ve collected the combined anger of Chomps and Rumsfeld and imbued the robots with it. To stimulate that anger, I have a hippy reading political opinion pieces by Noam Chomsky to them.
There sat a hippy, gleefully reading a book by Noam Chomsky as Chomps and Rumsfeld struggled with all their might to break from their constraints and kill the hippy.
“My God!” Bush exclaimed, “That’s so diabolical it’s kinda funny!”
“With my robots, I’ll destroy all of America’s enemies, foreign and domestic,” Condi declared, “Then all shall worship me and declare you a worthless idiot.”
“So are you going to kill us with your robots?” Bush asked.
“That is the plan,” Condi said.
“Just like a woman to have robots do her killing,” Bush laughed.
Condi looked steamed. “Fine! I’ll kill you myself!” She walked up to Bush and sunk into a martial arts stance.
Bush rolled up his sleeves. “Now I don’t want to hit a gir…”
Condi kicked him the stomach and then elbowed him in the chin, knocking Bush to the ground.
“Help!” Bush exclaimed, “Condi is beating me up!”
Laura now stormed into the room, dragging Barbara and Jenna by their ears. Scott crawled in behind her. “Do you know what your daughters were doing?” Laura said angrily, “Trying to snipe their own mother, that’s what!”
“Why are they always my daughters when they’re trying to kill us,” Bush groaned as he got himself off the ground.
“Dr. Rice, what are you doing in that silly outfit?” Laura asked.
“Killing your husband and then taking over the world,” Condi said defensively.
Laura rolled her eyes. “Okay, I cleaned up the White House and made enough punch and pie for everyone… but you only get it if you all make up. Now, George, why don’t you finally apologize to Dr. Rice for the mean things you said and set a good example for your daughters.”
“Apologize?” Bush said distastefully.
“Come on,” Ichi urged, “We want punch and pie!”
“Fine,” Bush said, first looking at the ground for a moment, but then finally facing Condi eye to eye. “I’m sorry I said those mean sexist things. You can be just as mindlessly hawkish as any man around– if not more so.”
“And do you have something to say to George, Dr. Rice?” Laura urged.
“I guess I overreacted a bit when I tried to have you killed by Islamic extremists, became a supervillian, and turned America into a police state,” Condi told Bush, “I’m sorry.”
“Happens to the best of us,” Bush said, patting her on the shoulder. He then looked to Laura. “So do we get punch and pie now?”
“Fist you have to apologize to Daschle for breaking his nose for no good reason,” Laura said as Daschle then walked into the room with bandages on his nose.
“But I had a good reason!” Bush insisted, “I don’t like him!”
“George!” Laura shouted sternly.
“I’m sorry, Daschle,” Bush said, “It’s not your fault your a slimy weasel; that’s just the way God made you.”
“I’m saddened by…”
“Hey!” Bush interrupted, “You’re not going to help by talking!”
“Guess I better let Chomps and Rumsfeld go,” Condi said as she hit a button on her remote. The constraints fell off of Rumsfeld and the cage door opened for Chomps.
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld shouted.
“Grrraw!” Chomps growled.
“Uh oh!” exclaimed the hippy, holding the Noam Chomsky book in front of him as a shield.
“That one dead hippy,” Bush remarked, quickly looking for a place to shield himself from the splash damage.

The entire group sat around a picnic table on the White House lawn enjoying punch and pie. “I’ve learned something today,” Bush declared, “Anyone can be whatever they set their heart on. A woman can be just as good a cabinet member as a man, a blind man can be a samurai, and a dog with a sever anti-social personality disorder can be an award winning U.N. peacekeeper.”
“I learned something too,” Condi said, “That if what someone says offends me, I should confront the person directly instead of trying to secretly have him killed and then turn the U.S. into a police state.”
“That last part is Ashcroft’s job,” Bush chuckled.
“And I learned that while blowing up robots is fun, nothing beats stabbing a for’ner with my KaBar while the Old Glory flies on a pole behind me,” Buck stated.
“And I learned never to trust President Bush,” Scott said angrily, “He even signed my cast with the name ‘I. P. Freely’.”
“Yeah, that is pretty funny,” Bush chuckled.
“Sorry about shooting you in the leg,” Barbara said, “I didn’t mean to. But that’s what I learned: when sniping, you have to adjust for the gravitational arc of the bullet.”
“And don’t forget windage,” Jenna added.
“I didn’t learn anything,” Rumsfeld declared, “I’m too old.”
“I learned that Bush’s ineffectual leadership can cause tragedy in both the foreign and domestic arena,” Daschle commented, “and it saddens me.”
“That reminds me of another thing I learned,” Bush said, “The capital of Thailand.”
“That capital of Thailand?” Daschle said with confusion.
“Yeah: Punchyouintheballs!” Bush exclaimed, and then punched Daschle in the groin.
“I learn I charge 150 bu for this job,” Zatoichi said.
Bush rose to his feet as Daschle fell out of his chair. “150 bu! That’s outrageous!”
Ichi’s hand moved towards his cane.
“Okay! Okay! 150 bu it is!” Bush said, sitting back down and covering his neck, “These ties are expensive.”
“Well I’m glad most everyone learned something today,” Laura said, serving more pie.
“I bet Chomps didn’t learn anything,” Bush chuckled, “He’s just a stupid dog. Look at him there sitting on the lawn chewing on a car bumper – Hey! That’s my car bumper!”
Bush rolled up a newspaper and ran over to Chomps. He then struck the dog on the head while yelling, “Bad dog!”
Very slowly Chomps stopped chewing on the car bumper and turned his head to look at Bush. “I don’t think he liked that,” Rumsfeld said, “What paper was it?”
Bush unrolled it. “It was the New York Times.”
“Then you just added insult to injury,” Rumsfeld stated gravely.
Chomps brimmed with fury. His blood shot eyes bulged as he growled and bared his jagged teeth.
Bush backed away slowly as he prepared to run. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be up in a tree.”
THE END

Part I
“What’s this place?” Rumsfeld asked, looking around.
“It’s my secret fortress inside a hollowed out volcano,” Condoleezza Rice answered, sitting at her throne. “I decided to move my operations here to keep a lower profile.”
“I don’t know if I like it,” Rumsfeld said. Chomps added a growl for good measure.
“You don’t need to,” Rice answered sternly.
“And what’s with the mask,” Rumsfeld asked, “Everyone knows who you are.”
“It goes with the cape,” Rice answered tersely.
Jenna Bush walked into the room. “France is calling. They’re trying to surrender again.”
“But I haven’t even threatened them yet!” Rice fumed, “Tell them they can’t surrender until I at least threaten them with war. If they call again, just hang up on them.”
Jenna left the room. “Was that one of Bush’s daughters?” Rumsfeld inquired.
“She and Barbara needed summer jobs for beer money so I hired them as evil minions,” Rice answered.
“I don’t know if I like all this hollowed out volcano and evil minion crap,” Rumsfeld growled.
“Just keep to your warring,” Rice ordered, “I now have even more of my military death machines to help you.” The giant robots marched into the room, looking ready to kill. “They are in everyway superior to human soldiers. They are tireless, strong, and… is one missing a head?” She spotted Chomps chewing on a robot head. “That dog is an annoyance!” She thought for a moment. “But maybe I have a use for him…”
“North Korea called,” Jenna called out. “They say they won’t have multilateral talks and only will talk with the United States.”
“I’ll tell them who they will talk to!” Rice shouted, “I know who to send to handle this. Ha; all these international problems or so easy to deal with now that Bush is out of the way. Soon I will be known as the most effective leader of the U.S. ever. Muh ha ha ha!”
“I’ll be at a bar,” Rumsfeld grumbled as he walked away.

“Ha ha ha! Pretty colors!” Kim Jong Il laughed as he played with his kaleidoscope.
“We’re here to talk to you about your nuclear weapons,” said a fierce voice from behind him.
“What!” Jong exclaimed, “I only talk to U.S.”
“Well the U.S. don’t want to talk to you,” said the thug, “Instead you’re talking to me.”
“And who are you?”
“Vinnie, from Jersey,” the man answered. He them motioned to the muscle bound man next to him. “And this here is Rocko.”
“I don’t know you! I don’t talk to you! Only to U.S.!” Jong exclaimed.
“Oh, I think you’ll talk to us,” Vinnie threatened, “And guess what; we’ll give you a free hair cut as part of the deal.” Vinnie snapped his fingers. Rocko then pulled out an electric clipper and approached Kim Jong Il.
“No!” Jong exclaimed, “Not my poofy hair! Noooooo!!”

“What are you doing up in that tree?” Laura demanded, “We’re you drinking again?”
“No,” Bush answered, “Chomps chased me up here. Is he gone now?”
“I think so,” Laura said, looking at the tree, “Nearly chewed the tree down, though.”
Bush climbed down. “Is that Zatoichi behind you?” he asked angrily, “That coward ran away!”
“You said nothing about large robots,” Ichi answered sternly, “You want me fight robots: 100 bu.”
“That’s double your fee!” Bush yelled angrily, “There no way in hell I’m going to pay that…”
The click of the sword returning to its sheath was the only evidence Bush had that Ichi sword was drawn. His tie then fell off his neck to the ground.
“Okay, you drive a hard bargain, Ichi,” Bush said more calmly, “100 bu it is.”
“Have you heard what happened while you were up in that tree?” Laura asked, “Dr. Rice has taken over America and turned it into a police state. You need to talk to her and apologize for your sexist remarks to end this madness.”
“Laura, Laura, Laura,” Bush chuckled, shaking his head, “Politics isn’t about talking and apologies; it’s about blind samurai and robots with gattling gun arms. Now, come on, Ichi, we have work to do.”

“Okay, everyone, I know this is new for all of us,” White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan announced, “This is the first time the U.S. has had a military coup, and this is also the first time I have given a press conference with a robot pointing a gun at my head if I misspeak.” He glanced warily at the large robot behind him. “So, any questions?”
Fox News Reporter Melinda Hawkish stepped forward.
“I would think you’d be happy with all this,” Scott said, “We have war with about every country out there. What are you concerned about?”
“I’m just wondering, as assume most of our viewers are, what caliber bullet will be shot through your head if you misspeak?” Melinda asked.
“I don’t know,” Scott answered with annoyance. “Any other questions?”
“Why does Bush want to kill Iraqi children?” Helen Thomas asked, “What did Iraqi children ever do to him?”
“Are you even paying attention?” Scott exclaimed with exasperation, “That questions has nothing to do with anything!”
“Where are my pills? Who took my pills?” Helen responded.
“For the last time, Ari Fleischer stole them before he left,” Scott answered, “Go talk to him.”
“Is it true that mafia thugs shaved the head of Kim Jong Il at Empress Rice’s command?” asked another reporter. “Is it really wise to be associated with organized crime.”
“Empress Rice is trying to come up with creative solutions to problems,” Scott said, “And she thinks her new strategies are much more effective than Bush, who she terms a ‘goober’.”
“Many Democrats are complaining about being hunted down by robots when they oppose Empress Rice’s policies,” said a reporter, “They are then hunted down by robots after that complaining. How do you respond to that?”
“That’s just politics,” Scott said, “Sometimes it’s rough, but, if all the Democrats can do is whine about it, that shows just how bereft of ideas they are. Any other questions?”
“Is that samurai approaching you blind?”
“Huh?” Scott exclaimed, looking behind him. With a swish of a blade, the gattling gun arm of the robot was severed. With another slice, the head fell to the ground.
“Come on, Scott,” Bush said, running in front of the reporters,” We’re taking America back.”
“Uh, okay,” Scott said dubiously.
“Is it true, ousted President Bush, that you said mean sexist things to Empress Rice?” asked a reporter.
“I was just joking,” Bush responded, “She shouldn’t be so sensitive. And I want to assure the American people that Condi’s reign of terror will soon end. I will get back in power, stop her mindless hawkishness, and get the economy on track.”
“Actually, the stock market shot up when it was found out you were pinned up in a tree by an angry dog,” Melinda told him.
“What!” Bush exclaimed angrily, and then looked right into the cameras. “You guys suck! I’m going to be president again, anyway, though.”

“Where’s Chomps?” Rumsfeld inquired.
“Right where he won’t do me any trouble,” Rice said walking over to a metal cage. Inside was Chomps who was extremely angry. Condi made faces at him, and he snarled and growled but couldn’t bite through the metal bars.
“That’s cruel!” Rumsfeld exclaimed, “He should be running free, extracting his mindless anger on whatever he sees.”
“I have better plans for him,” Rice answered.
“And what’s this with laying off the troops?” Rumsfeld asked.
“Now that I have my robots, I have no need for them. Come to think of it, I have no need for you.”
A robot walked up from behind Rumsfeld and grabbed him. “Rarr!” Rumsfeld shouted, but couldn’t break the robots grip.
“‘Rarr’ all you want,” Rice said, “These robots are too strong for you.” Rice thought for a while evilly. “Actually, save your anger; I have use for it. Muh ha ha ha!”
“Jenna and I are going for a lunch run,” Barbara interrupted, “What kind of sub do you want from Subway?”
“Turkey with light mayo,” Rice answered, “and they better get it right or they will be destroyed!”

Bush, Zatoichi, and Scott barged into Buck the Marine’s house. “Buck, we need your help,” Bush exclaimed.
Buck was sitting in a chair looking all sullen.
“What’s the matter, Buck?” Bush asked with concern.
“I got dismissed from the Marines,” Buck said mournfully, “They think robots can replace us Marines, but a robot can’t understand the intricacies of kill’n a for’ner no more than can it paint art or write poetry.”
“I’m sorry, Buck,” Bush answered, “Can’t you get a job as a mercenary?”
“But I only liked kill’n for’ners for America,” Buck said, “That’s my favorite thing of all to kill people for.”
“Well, we’re going to overthrow Condi,” Bush told him, “Then you can be back in the Marines. Want to help us?”
“Sure,” Buck answered, cheering up a bit, “but won’t we be kill’n robots? I only know about kill’n for’ners. It’s not like you can stick robots with a KaBar.”
“If it helps,” Bush said, “I think a lot of their parts are made in China.”
“Foreign robots!” Buck exclaimed, “I’m in!”
“So, do you have weaponry?”
“Some.” Buck opened the door to a room filled with guns of all kinds.
“Hot damn,” Bush exclaimed and then picked up a machine gun, “Condi will be sorry she usurped me, that’s for sure. You want a gun, Ichi?”
“I prefer sword,” he answered curtly.
“You pick something out, Scott.”
“Uh, I’m not really a gun person,” he said uneasily, “I don’t think I’ll be much use on a siege or anything.”
Bush rolled his eyes. “What a diverse staff I got now. I have women, minorities, a blind guy, and now a homosexual.”
“Hey!” Scott exclaimed, “That’s not called for!”
Bush tossed him a shotgun. “Be a man!”
Senator Tom Daschle walked into the room. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said, “The current government is a disaster.”
“And we’re handling it, Daschle,” Bush answered with annoyance, “And we don’t need any whiny Democrats to help us.”
“I think this just proves what a poor leader you are,” Daschle said, “I am saddened how you couldn’t keep control of your own administration, your sexist remarks leading to…”
“Hey, Daschle,” Bush interrupted, “There’s something on your nose.”
“What?”
“My forehead.” Bush grabbed Daschle by the shoulders and then headbutted him.
“You broke my nose!”
“Then I did it right.”
Daschle ran out of the room.
“Now we going to blow up some foreign robots?” Buck asked, loading some magazines.
“Damn straight,” Bush answered. He then put on his cowboy hat and chambered a round into his rifle. “Time for some politics of massive destruction!”
TO BE CONCLUDED…