Rumsfeld entered the oval office, a solemn look on his face. “Mr. President, I want to warn you that first reports aren’t always accurate but…”
Bush jumped up knocking over his desk in the process. “We caught Saddam didn’t we?”
“We got the bastard!” Rumsfeld answered, smiling. “Found him hiding in a hole!”
“I always said we should look in holes!” Bush exclaimed. Both of them danced around the office.
Daschle now entered. “I just want to say that I’m very saddened by how… Hey! Why are you two so happy?”
“We caught Saddam, you slimy weasel!” Bush shouted with glee.
“Oh f__k!” Daschle exclaimed.
“I know!” Bush yelled, “Let’s beat up Daschle in celebration!”
Rumsfeld grabbed Daschle from behind while Bush prepared to punch him. Laura Bush then walked into the room. “Why are you two beating up Daschle in a celebratory manner?” she demanded.
“We caught Saddam!” Bush answered.
“Well, golly gosh, isn’t that good news,” Laura said smiling, “but isn’t there something better to do now that pummel Daschle… such as question Saddam?”
“You’re right dear,” Bush said, thinking over, “Off to Iraq once more!”

“There was no reason to bring a turkey, dear,” Laura told Bush.
“No. It’s tradition,” Bush protested, “When you come to Iraq, you bring a turkey. That’s what we did last time.”
“That’s because it was Thanksgiving.”
“But… uh… oh…” Bush handed the turkey over to the guard. “Here’s a turkey. Where’s Saddam?”
“He’s waiting inside,” the guard said. Bush, Laura, and Rumsfeld quickly hurried inside the cell. There stood Saddam, staring back at them defiantly.
“I well tell you fools nothing!” he shouted.
“Rummy, you can ask the first question,” Bush said.
Rumsfeld lunged at Saddam. “I’ll strangle you! Rarr!” The guards held Rumsfeld back.
“Jeepers!” Laura exclaimed.
“I guess he’ll be the bad cop,” Bush remarked and then looked to Saddam. “Now you answer my questions or we’ll unrestrain Rumsfeld. What are your ties to Al Qaeda?”
“I tell you nothing, American pig dog!” Saddam shouted back defiantly.
“Have you been leading the insurgents?”
“You will get no answers from me, American dog pig!” Saddam snarled.
“Where are your WMD’s?”
“You will learn nothing from me, pig American dog!”
“If two cars are eighty miles apart and heading towards each other, one going 40 mph and the other 50 mph, how long until they pass?”
“I will never tell you, dog American pig!”
“We’ll see how strong your resolve is!” Bush yelled and then yanked on Saddam’s mustache.
“Okay! I talk!” Saddam screamed, “They pass each other in around fifty minutes!”
“Fifty three and a third minutes, you evil dictator!” Bush shouted, “but if you show me your work, I’ll give you partial credit!”
“Bah! I spit at your partial credit!” Saddam returned defiantly.
“This is getting us nowhere!” Rumsfeld objected, “Let’s just skip to the discussion of what we do with his corpse.”
“But I’m not dead,” Saddam objected.
Bush backhanded Saddam. “Shut up!”
“I say we cut him into four pieces and place each piece at the four corners of the world as a warning to others,” Rumsfeld offered.
“I say we give him a taste of his own medicine,” Bush said, “and bury him in a mass grave… a mass grave of one!”
“You will do nothing to me, Junior Bush!” Saddam yelled, “I curse you to be a one-termer like your father!”
“You take that back!” Bush exclaimed, lunging at Saddam as the guards tried to restrain him back.
“I think we should let the Iraqis deal with him,” Laura said, “They’re the ones who have been most harmed by him.”
“But that mean man tried to kill my daddy!” Bush objected, “I want to murder him dead myself.”
“You have to put other’s needs above your own, dear,” Laura said.
Saddam made a whipping sound.
“That’ enough out of you!” Bush said, “Maybe we could just exile him to France.”
“Please, no!” Saddam pleaded, “Be merciful, younger Bush! Just a bullet to the head!”
“I think that’s for the Iraqi people to decide,” Laura stated.
“As always, dear, you’re very smart and don’t smell like a monkey,” Bush said, and then looked to Saddam, “Unlike certain evil dictators I know.” He turned back to Rumsfeld and Laura. “Since that’s decided, let’s get something to eat. I hear they just opened a new McDonald’s franchise down the street. It’s like a regular McDonald’s in America, but, to adapt to the local culture, everyone working there has a bushy mustache.”

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions about the Medicare bill,” White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan said, “So let’s get started.”
“Actually, all of our questions are about the capture of Saddam Hussein, actually,” stated one reporter.
“Well, we hope to find him soon, but it’s a large country and locating him could take time,” Scott answered.
“But you did locate him,” a reporter said, “Bush is over there questioning him now.”
“What?” Scott exclaimed, confused, “We caught him?”
“Yeah, on Saturday.”
“So how are we going to execute him?” asked Fox News reporter Melinda Hawkish, “And will the video of his execution have audio so we can hear his screams?”
“I had to hear about this from the press! That bastard!” Scott exclaimed, ignoring the question.
“So you know less than us?” asked a reporter.
“If that’s possible, yes,” Scott said irately.
“So what do you think is the president’s stance on this?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “I think he’s happy… so happy he didn’t think to tell his Press Secretary. Do we have any non-Saddam questions that I might be able to answer?”
“I have some about the Barney Christmas video,” said a reporter.
“Super,” Scott answered, and then grumbled to himself, “Let’s talk about that stupid terrier.”
“My favorite part was when Barney was playing cards with Ari Fleischer,” giggled one reporter, “I miss him.”
“Shut up.”