“Dah! I am governor now! I am Ah-nuld!”
“Yeah, congratulations on getting inaugurated and everything,” President Bush said, “I was so afraid I was going to screw up my own inauguration and not get to be president.”
“What are doing here, puny president man? Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’m just hang’n; see’n how you’re doing,” Bush answered, “I have lots of smart people back in Washington to keep things under control.”

“Now that Bush is gone,” Rumsfeld stated, “Let’s start nuking things. Let’s start with Syria.”
“Only if we can nuke Finland,” Condi added.
“Deal. Does the U.N. advisor approve?”
Chomps barked in approval, causing his blue helmet to slip over his eyes, which indubitably made him angry.
“Now, I don’t want to question the wisdom of the Secretary of Defense, National Security Advisor, and a psychotic rottweiler,” Collin Powell stated, “but I think going nuclear is a bit rash, and should be contemplated a bit longer.”
Rumsfeld stared at Powell a moment. “Let’s just cut to the chase: how much do you want to be bitch-slapped?”

“I must improve the economy!” Arnold shouted, “It is too puny! And the debt is too big! I must make it puny!” Arnold then grabbed a write up of the economy and held it vigorously. “You improve economy, or I crush you! Dah!” Arnold then ripped the folder in two and started stabbing it with a ballpoint pen.
“Now, they don’t let me in most of the meeting about the economy,” Bush told him, “but I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“How do you improve the economy then?” Arnold asked, “Tell me, or I will crush you!”
“Well, you reduce taxes.”
“And what if that doesn’t work?”
Bush thought some. “Reduce taxes again.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
Bush thought long and hard. “Reduce taxes again.”
“But I also need money to reduce the debt! I am Ah-nuld!”
“Money, eh,” Bush mused aloud, “We could do a daring bank robbery… or, better yet, we could go to Vegas and rob a casino. We’ll first need to hang out there and look inconspicuous as we case the joint.”
“Your ideas are puny!” Arnold shouted, “I will crush them! Don’t you have any good ideas for making money?”
“Well, you could always invade a country and steal its oil,” Bush answered, “But you’ll need a army for that…”
Arnold took out an M-60 from behind his desk. “I will do it myself. I am Ah-nuld!”

“So governor of California is invading us, eh?”
“Yeah, what’s that all aboot, eh?”
“I dunno, but he just blew up the local gas station, eh.”
“Maybe we should do something, eh?”
“I think we should hide… I’m so scared right now I’m almost forgot to say ‘eh’.”

“So is it true that Governor Schwarzenegger has gone on a violent rampage at the advice of the president?”
“It’s not that uncommon for a new governor to do a rampage of some sort,” White House Press Secretary Scott Mclellan answered.
“Yes it is,” the reporter responded.
Scott paused for a moment. “Okay, I got nothing on this one. Anyone want to talk about Iraq?”
“Actually, my question is why did we nuke Syria,” said another reporter.
“And you’re not curious about why we nuked Finland?” Scott responded.
The reporter thought about that. “No, not really.”

…
Brian Kilmeade: We now join Melinda Hawkish straight from Baghdad. How are things going, Melinda.
Melinda Hawkish: Pretty good, Brian. The enemy is being slaughtered as we speak.
Steve Doocy: But we keep hearing how bad things are in Iraq.
Melinda: That’s because most of the news reports leave out how much scumbag terrorists are suffering. That’s other channels like CNN leave out all the video we have of the enemies’ brains getting blown out.
Steve: Let’s see the clip.
Brian: Wow! That’s guy’s head blew right apart.
Melinda: That’s right, and that’s what happens to dirty terrorists.
E.D. Hill: And you’ll only see things like that here on Fox News – Fair and Balanced.
Melinda: And the fair and balanced view is that America is kicking ass. Don’t let any biased media tell you otherwise.
Brian: Thanks, Melinda.
Melinda: By the way, if you ever need someone to sit in for E.D., think of me when I’m back to the States. I promise not to get knocked up as much as her, either.
Steve: (laughs) You’re quite the kidder, Melinda.
E.D.: Stay away from my job, bitch!
Brian: Anyway, our next guest has to deal with things almost as fearsome as terrorists. Let’s welcome Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter.
Steve Irwin: Hey, everybody, it’s great to be here.
Steve: So are crocodiles as dumb as terrorists?
Irwin: No, they can be quite wily. You have to be careful when you deal with those crocs.
Brian: Now, you take quite a different approach to nature shows. Most before you only watched the animals from a distance and didn’t disturb them, but you like to run up and tackle the animals and shake them around.
Irwin: You learn a lot from an animal by pissing it off.
E.D.: Do you ever get scared about getting injured?
Irwin: No, because I have a special medical condition where I lack all common sense.
Steve: Sounds like you could be a liberal.
Irwin: Crikey! I hope not.
E.D.: Now you brought some animals with you.
Irwin: That’s right. In this cage my wife is bringing out is a king cobra.
Steve: Whoa! Careful where you hold that guy!
Irwin: Now this bugger is actually less venomous than a regular cobra, but he delivers more venom per bite. He could take down a… Crikey! He almost got me there.
Brian: You sure it’s safe to have him out like this.
Irwin: I have him under control.
E.D.: Now there is something special about the Cobra’s hood, right?
Irwin: That’s right. The king cobra can extend the ribs in its neck to make this hood to intimidate other animals. Also, if your grab the snake by the ends of its hood as I’m and doing and shake it vigorously…
Steve: I don’t think the snake is liking that.
Irwin: That’s right! There’s nothing it hates more. Crikey! He’s trying to kill me now! Isn’t he beautiful?
Brian: He really wants to bite your face.
Irwin: Excellent observation. The king cobra is now trying to eat my face, not, mind you, because it’s hungry, but instead because it figures that’s the most painful way to kill me. That’s how mad I made it! Isn’t it beautiful?
E.D.: It sure is angry.
Irwin: Let’s put him back in his cage.
Steve: Now this next guy looks less threatening.
Irwin: He can be a nasty little bugger, though. He’s a ringtailed lemur.
E.D.: And what’s the significance of the rings on his tail?
Irwin: I don’t know. But if I grab him by the tail and swing him over my head thusly…
Brian: Wow! You’re really spinning that rodent around!
Irwin: Actually, it’s a monkey. Now, you can hear its squeal changing as it become angrier and angrier. Now I’ll stop spinning him and set him down…
E.D.: He’s just staring at you.
Irwin: That’s the extremely rare lemur stare of death. Right now he’s just absorbing how angry he is but soon… Crikey! He’s trying to kill me now! Isn’t he beautiful?
Steve: He’s really trying to claw and bite you. I’ve never seen a monkey that angry before.
E.D.: I have.
Irwin: He is so angry, he will not eat or sleep until I’m dead.
E.D.: Fascinating.
Irwin: Let’s put him back in his cage. There you go, you angry little bugger. Now let’s bring out the next animal.
Steve: Looks like you already swung this one over your head in the green room.
Irwin: No, this animal here is always angry. Actually, he was rated by the Guinness Book of World Records as the World’s Angriest Dog.
Brian: That’s a thick chain holding him.
Irwin: He shouldn’t be able to chew through until the segments over.
E.D.: Wow! He’s really chewing away at it. Now, my neighbor has a rottweiler, and it’s not this angry. What makes this dog so different?
Irwin: No one really knows. It might be a chemical imbalance in his brain or that he’s just highly opinionated.
Steve: Whoa! Hey!
Irwin: Don’t worry. He’s only angry at your chair.
Brian: Look at him rip it apart.
Steve: So is he part of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy”? (laughs) Whoa!
Irwin: Now he is angry at you. Probably didn’t like that joke.
Steve: Everyone is a critic. Can you get him to… uh… stop trying to kill me.
Irwin: Hey! Chomps! What’s that behind you, boy? What’s that behind you?
Brian: Now I’ve seen dogs chase their tail before, but it really looks like he wants to kill his.
Steve: He’s stopped. Now what’s he barking at?
Irwin: Looks like he doesn’t like one of the stage lights.
Brian: Can we have that turned off?
E.D.: Looks like that calmed him down… or at least made him less angry. Now, you’re going to host a Fox special, aren’t you.
Irwin: Yes, we’re going to find out what is the world’s angriest animal, and Chomps here is one of the contestants. The others are Razor, the Eternally Agitated Wolverine, Squeakers, the Schizophrenic Tiger, Rumsfeld, the Enraged Secretary of Defense, and Wally, the Murderous Sloth.
Brian: Murderous sloth?
Irwin: Very slow to move, but very quick to anger.
Steve: He’s chewing through his chain again. Are we going to be all right?
Irwin: As long as you don’t say the ‘f’ word.
E.D.: We’re a family show, so you don’t have to worry about that.
Irwin: I don’t mean the four-letter one. I mean the one about cheese-eating surrender monkeys.
Steve: You mean the French?
Irwin: Crikey! There he goes trying to kill everyone! Isn’t he beautiful?
Brian: Can’t you shoot him with a tranquilizer or something?
Irwin: Not at this stage of anger, I’m afraid. The only thing that will calm him down is mauling a hippy. I’ll let my wife let him loose outside so he can find one and tucker himself out.
E.D.: Is that safe?
Irwin: Not for hippies.
Steve: There’s one right out the window behind us.
E.D.: Look at the sign he’s holding up! We’re not right wing! We’re fair and balanced. I hope Chomps gets him.
Steve: Looks like he found him…
Irwin: Crikey!
Brian: I haven’t seen that much blood splattered on a window in New York since Dinkins was mayor.
Steve: We’ll have to get the window washer out during the commercial break. Thanks for joining us Steve.
Irwin: It was my pleasure.

“Ask you idiotic questions!” Rumsfeld yelled at the reporters impatiently.
“What do you think of Gen. Abizaid’s statement about using harsher measures in Iraq if attacks don’t stop?”
“I agree with him fully. Anyone who attacks American troops must suffer and die in the worst possible way!” Rumsfeld shouted, “Baby Jesus will cry when he see the torments we inflict upon our enemies! God will laugh, though; He’s always liked vengeance. Next question.”
“What do you prefer: Mac’s or PC’s?”
Rumsfeld pulled out a .45 and unloaded it into the reporter. “You asked an inane question, and you are now dead; I hope that was a learning experience for you. Someone ask a question while I reload.”
“Rep. Charles Rangel has made a resolution asking for you to resign sponsored by twenty-five other Democrats. How do you respond?”
“WHAT?” Rumsfeld screamed in rage as he slapped a magazine into his 1911 and chambered a round. “He will soon be known as ‘Charles Strangled’. They will all die! All of them! The Democrat’s minority in the House is about to get much smaller!”
“How do you…”
“DEATH! No one questions me! No one!”
“In reagards to…”
“MURDER!”
“What are you doing right now?”
“I’m putting on my strangling gloves,” Rumsfeld answered as he put on a pair of black leather gloves.
“Is that to help you write your resignation? If it is… ack… erk…”

“Rep. Charles Rangel, you’ve made a resolution asking for the resignation of Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, correct?” asked a reporter.
“That is correct.”
“And it was sponsored by twenty-five other Democrats?”
“True.”
“All of whom were found strangled today?”
“That’s what I hear.”
“Now D.C. police started to put some correlation amongst all those murders, but then went on a lunch break. Do you think the murders are connected?”
“I don’t know,” Rangel answered, “I’m not some conspiracy theorist, but frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if this was all from acts of terrorism… terrorism Donald Rumsfeld failed to stop.”
“It kind of sounds like you just barely survived being strangled yourself,” commented another reporter.
“No, my voice has always been this annoyingly raspy,” Rangel responded, “In fact, it’s really helped me in the House because people will end up agreeing with me just to get me to stop talking – my voice being quite similar to fingers being raked across a chalkboard. Even now, I can see you squirm as you listen to me.”
“The bodies of the twenty-five Democrats were all found with notes saying, ‘I, Donald Rumsfeld, am strangling these Democrats for their impudence in making that stupid resolution.'” stated a reporter.
“What’s your point?” Rangel asked.
“Do you think the murders might be the work of the ‘Rumsfeld Strangler’ in retaliation for your resolution?”
“How would I know?” Rangel said with annoyance, “What am I? Some forensic scientist? I’ll let D.C. homicide worry about that when they get back from their four-hour lunch. Also, I think this ‘Rumsfeld Strangler’ nonsense is a media invention.”
“On each body was a list of the twenty-six Democrats who signed the resolution with your name at the bottom of the list, and the ones already killed crossed off,” said a reporter. “On the final body, all but your name was crossed off and written in bold were the words, ‘Charles Rangel is next.’ Do you think you might be the next target?”
“How would I know how some deranged killer’s mind works?” Rangel answered, “Shouldn’t you reporters be investigating and figuring these things out?”
The reporters were all silent for a while. Finally one said, “We’re actually very dumb.”
“Fair enough,” Rangel stated, “but I would like to stop focusing on this murder distraction and instead talk about Donald Rumsfeld’s failure in Iraq to immediately convert a country that had been under a tyrannical dictatorship into a prospering democracy within a week’s time.”
“Melinda Hawkish from Fox News,” spoke up Melinda, “I just wanted to ask exactly how dumb are the people who keep electing you?”
“No specific studies have been done,” Rangel answered, “but my constituents are, for the most part, quite moronic. I would like to remind everyone, though, that, in a democracy, even the stupid deserve representation, and who better to represent the nigh retarded than me?”
Melinda thought about that for a moment. “Well that shut me up.”
Donald Rumsfeld now slowly made his way through the crowd of reporters, his gloved hands held out in front of him, tensed for a strangling.
“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” Rangel stated, “I can tell from your homicidal expression that you’re here to announce your resignation and offer an apology to the American people for your failure in Iraq. I would just like to say… ack… erk…”