“Dah!” Arnold Schwarzenegger yelled as he picked up his desk and snapped it in two.
“You have to calm down,” President Bush told him, “You have to expect these kind of attacks from evil people like Gray Davis.”
“Woman have boobies and I like to touch them!” Arnold shouted, “Why is that wrong?”
“Hey, I don’t make the laws,” Bush said defensively, but then thought for a moment. “Well, I do sign them.”
“And I no like Hitler!” Arnold said angrily, “Nazis are puny! I crush them! I am Ah-nuld!”
“We all know that; I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“By the way, thank you for coming to support me, President Bush person,” Arnold stated more calmly, “You are very wise.”
“Well thanks,” Bush answered, “but I actually came down here to visit Disneyland.” Bush’s hands shot up into the air. “Pirates of the Caribbean!”
On T.V. was Cruz Bustamante giving a press conference. “It is disturbing to me that Arnold gropes women while praising Hitler,” Bustamante told the press, trying to look serious and concerned.
“Dah!” Arnold screamed, crushing the T.V. with his fists. “I will kill that fat bald man! I will kill Davis too. They are puny! I will crush them! I am Ah-nuld!”
“Hey, the election is tomorrow,” Bush told Arnold, “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Rumsfeld: Wait until the polls close to go on a murderous rampage.”
“You are a smart politician,” Arnold said, “but I must go by what I know, and that is the solution to all problems is bloody vengeance!”

“I myself would never grope women,” Bustamante continued, “Why, even now, I make sure to get written permission before touching my wife. Also, I never praise Hitler on a daily basis.”
A large figure in a black leather jacket and wearing sunglasses appeared before the podium. “Are you Cruz Bustamante?” he asked in a low voice.
“Uh… yes.”
“You will be terminated!” Arnold shouted, grabbing Bustamante and lifting him into the air. “See brick wall over there? He your new friend. You go meet him up close and personal.” Arnold then threw Bustamante so hard that he became embedded into the brick wall.
“Arnold killed Cruz Bustamante!” shouted a reporter.
Arnold turned to stare into a camera. “You are next, Davis!”

“He’s after us!” Gray Davis’s aide exclaimed as he watched the T.V.
“Bah!” Davis yelled, “We will hit him with so many allegations that he will be paralyzed! No one can stop me from finishing my incompetent term as governor! No one!”
“But putting out allegations that he supports Hitler!” the aide exclaimed, “That’s so extreme it’s almost a self parody!”
“I say come up with even worse allegation!” Davis yelled, “Where are my loyal trolls from the Los Angeles Times?”
The slimy trolls emerged. “We are here to serve the Democratic Party, master.”
“Put out a story that an unnamed source witnessed Arnold having gay sex with Satan.”
“Certainly, master.”
“Wait, I have an even better one,” Davis said, “Allege that part of his bodybuilding routine was to make an energy shake by putting a puppy in a blender.”
“That’s so evil and ridiculous no one will believe it!” the aide shouted.
“Silence!” Davis screamed, “Flying monkeys take him away!”
“Noooooo!” the aide yelled as he was dragged off by the winged monkeys.
“We will go print your allegations, master,” the trolls said as they left the office.
Davis then laughed evilly to himself until he was interrupted by the voice of his security officer over the intercom. “We’re being assaulted by Arnold Schwarzenegger wielding a minigun!”
“That means a really small gun, right?” Davis asked.
The only response was the sound of automatic gunfire. Soon his door was kicked in and there stood Arnold. He tossed his minigun aside and said, “Instead of Gray Davis, you will now be known as `Black & Blue’ Davis!”
“Ha!” Davis answered, “Everyone always underestimates me, but I’ll show you!” Davis then charged Arnold and threw a punch at him. It landed with no effect.
“Dah!” Arnold shouted as he punched Davis, sending flying backwards and smashing it apart. “You are puny, Davis! I crush you! I am Ah-nuld!” He approached the wounded Davis. “You said you wanted a debate? Well now you will get to debate St. Peter on whether you are allowed through the pearly gates.”
Davis held up a remote control. “If I can’t be the incompetent governor of California, no one can! Muh ha ha ha!”
As Davis hit the button, Arnold jumped out of the window, plunging three stories as the governor’s mansion exploded behind him.
Bush, wearing a Goofy hat, quickly ran over to help Arnold off the ground. “So is Davis really gone for good?” Bush asked.
Arnold looked to the rubble of the governor’s mansion. “We will know for certain soon. I am Ah-nuld!”
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW AT A CALIFORNIA POLLING PLACE NEAR YOU!

“There was a leak about a CIA operative!” Bush said angrily, “Nothing enrages me more than leaks!” Bush turned to the man next to him who wore a black suit, tie, and sunglasses. “You’re my intelligence guy, right, Clancy?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”
“You’re kind of annoying,” Bush grumbled, “Do you have any idea where the leak came from?”
“The what? I’m not sure what your talk about?” Clancy said.
“It’s all over the news!” Bush shouted.
“I don’t read the news.”
“What do you know then?”
“Classified stuff.”
“Like what?”
Clancy chuckled. “I can’t tell you.”
“Dammit!” Bush yelled, “What about you, Rumsfeld? You know who the leaker is?”
“If I did, wouldn’t there be someone lying strangled on the ground?” Rumsfeld answered gruffly.
“True,” Bush admitted. Bush then looked under the conference table. “What about you, Chinese guy with surveillance equipment hiding under the table? You seem to keep tabs on everything. You know who did the leaking?”
“No speak English,” the Chinese man answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“Fair enough,” Bush answered, “but I will not rest until I find out who is behind this leak! Nothing will keep me from my goal! I swear on the name of my dear departed father that… hey, what’s this?” Bush picked up a newspaper. “Gen. Wesley Clark is planning on going faster than the speed of light! If he beats us to that, we’ll lose the woman vote!”
Karl Rove emerged from the shadows. “I think you have become distracted by something shiny and are not making sense, President Bush.”
“I’m more than not making sense, Rover!” Bush declared. He turned to Condoleezza Rice. “How close are we to going faster than the speed of light.”
“According to our knowledgeable scientist,” Rice answered, “That’s impossible.”
“Then fire them and get me some unknowledgeable scientists!” Bush demanded, “We’ll show that Weasely Clark who can go warp speed!”

Bush looked at the orb like device attached to a slingshot. “So what’s the chance of this going faster than light?” Bush asked.
“According to our statistician,” Condi answered, “That chance of this working can not be expressed as an actual number and instead only as an infinitesimal.”
“I feel fate is with us, though,” Bush said confidently, “So, are you ready, Scott.”
“To report on this event?” asked Scott McClellan.
“No, you’re going to ride it and confirm it goes faster than light speed. We’ll shine a flashlight at the same time and you see if you can beat it.”
“Why me?”
“Why me?” Bush answered back mockingly as she shoved Scott into the transporter, “Be a team player for once, Skippy.”
“Why is it aimed at a wall?” Scott asked, a bit scared.
“Because the wall was built recently,” Bush explained with annoyance, “If you go faster than light, you’ll go back in time, and thus you’ll fly forward before the wall was built. If you don’t go faster than light, you’ll just hit the wall. This makes the outcome obvious.”
“I dunno…” Scott started to say, but was cut off as Bush shut the door on the transporter.
“Fire this baby!” Bush yelled.
The slingshot was released, and the transporter slammed right into the wall.
“That didn’t look like it went faster than light at all,” Bush commented.
“No, I guess not,” Condi answered.
“I’m very hurt,” came a weak voice from the transporter.
“Want to try again?” Condi asked.
“I’m bored of this now,” Bush declared, “What were we doing before?”
“Finding the leaker.”
“Oh yeah,” Bush said walking off, “I bet it was the pizza boy. I can’t tell Stevie anything classified without the whole pizza joint finding out.”
“…help me…”