“You are about to speak with North Korean dictator Kim Jong Il,” Karl Rove told president Bush, “and you need to take a hard stance with him.”
“Hey, I know how to do deeplomosee, Rover,” Bush answered, “I will be resolved in these talks.”
Via the satellite connection, Kim Jong Il appeared on screen.
“Ha ha! He’s got poofy hair!” Bush exclaimed.
“You will not laugh at my poofy hair!” Jong yelled angrily, “You will fear me for I am very intimidating! I have nukes!”
“I’m supposed to believe you have the technology to make nucular weapons but not a comb?” Bush scoffed.
“You will treat me with respect! I very scary!”
“The only thing that makes me a little worried is your ability to control hoofed mammals I keep hearing about it,” Bush answered.
“The term ‘Dear Leader’ is meant to be affectionate,” Rove whispered in Bush’s ear, “It’s not meant to imply that he can command deer.”
“You will negotiate with me!” Jong demanded, “You will sign a non-aggression treaty!”
“But I like aggression!” Bush responded, “You’re an evil, murderous dictator, and you better watch it or you’re going to end up like Saddam and Osama – successfully hiding from us while occasionally sending out videotapes.”
Jong smiled. “I like to be on T.V.!”
“You better like it,” Bush answered threateningly and then cut the communications. He then turned to Rove. “I think I told him.”
Rove sighed and then faded into the shadows.
White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan came walking by. “What makes someone a crazy loon like Kim Jong Il,” Bush asked him.
“Well, when someone is a dictator, they often become mad with power.”
“That a great idea!” Bush exclaimed, “I should become mad with power!”
“That wasn’t’ what I…”
“With all this presidential power, think of the havoc I can cause,” Bush said, reveling the thought, “Quick, Scott, what’s something you’ve always wanted.”
Scott thought for a moment. “A job where I’m respected by my boss.”
“That’s the gayest thing I ever heard, Tubby,” Bush laughed, “I guess I’ll have to think of my own thing to do with my unlimited power!”
Bush looked out the window. “Have those protestors outside the front gates killed!”
“Those are well-wishers,” Scott answered.
“Then have them thanked,” Bush said as he stared at them evilly, “Muh ha ha ha!”
“Uh… that’s not really evil laugh worthy,” Scott told him.
“I know,” Bush responded, a bit disappointed. He then noticed something on his desk. “The red button!” He ran over and pushed it repeatedly. He then noticed a little “Out of Order” sign on the side. “Dammit!”
“You alright?” Scott asked.
“I’m mad I can’t use my power,” Bush answered. “I know!” He walked out of his office while Scott followed. Bush then spotted someone. “You! You’re fired!”
“I’m just a tourist,” the man answered.
“What’s your name and where do you work?” Bush demanded.
“Uh, Carl Johnson and I work at a Wal-Mart in Memphis.”
Bush picked up a phone and quickly dialed a number. “I am the President of the United States and I demand that Carl Johnson be fired… I don’t care if the number I dialed is invalid! I’m the President and I’m mad… mad with power!”
Laura Bush came walking by. “What are you doing?” she asked.
Bush quickly hung up the phone. “Nothing, dear.”
“You’re not going mad with power, are you?” Laura asked suspiciously.
“No! Not at all!”
Laura stared at Bush sternly.
“Maybe a little.”
She continued to stare at him.
“It was all Scott’s idea!” Bush exclaimed, breaking down, “He’s a bad influence one me!”
“I wasn’t for any madness at all!” Scott responded.
“You two better use your power sanely or I’ll give you both a talking to you won’t forget,” Laura told them, “Now there is a cabinet in the kitchen that needs fixing, so why don’t you two get ‘mad with power tools’ and take care of it.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Yes, Mrs. Bush.”
Laura walked off.
“Wait a second,” Scott said to Bush, “Shouldn’t you be handling important things like the economy and Iraq?”
“You’re right, Scott,” Bush answered, “You fix the cabinet while I handle all our problems foreign and domestic.”
“Okay, Mr. President,” Scott said, running off to the kitchen.
“Dumbass,” Bush chuckled to himself, “Time to watch The Matrix Reloaded on DVD again.”