“I bet no president has stuck more pencils in the ceiling of the Oval Office than me,” Bush said smugly to himself as he sharpened more pencils.
From the shadows emerged the menacing, hooded figure of Karl Rove. “In a single scream, the candidacy of the one called Dean has nearly come to end – as predicted by the elders. Now you may face a greater opponent in your reelection, and we must prepare.”
“Way ahead of you Rover,” Bush said as he flung another writing utensil skyward. “I have hired new help for our reelection campaign. Get all the minds together for a meeting.”
“It will be done,” Rove said as he faded back into the shadows.

In the war room/game room was assembled Karl Rove, Dick Cheney, Condoleezza Rice, Donald Rumsfeld, and Scott McClellan. “What are we waiting for?” Rumsfeld demanded, “As we sit here, countries go unbombed!”
“Bush says he has a surprise for us,” Scott said, “Aren’t you excited?”
Rumsfeld’s backhand knocked Scott from his chair.
Bush now entered the room. “In an effort to help with my reelection – and thus save all your jobs,” he announced, “I’ve hired my favorite political philosopher – Jesus Christ!”
In entered the Son of God. “Hey everybody.”
“Wow! It’s Jesus!” Scott exclaimed as he picked himself off the floor.
“Aren’t you the quick one,” Condi stated sardonically.
“By they way, Jesus,” Bush said, “Your new nickname is G-Man.”
“Alright… I guess.”
“So now why don’t you turn water into wine or something?” Bush asked excitedly.
“No no no,” Jesus answered, “Last time I turned water into wine we were all like, ‘We can’t let all this miraculous wine go to waste.’ Next thing I know, I’m appearing in a vision to John babbling on about a red dragon with seven heads.”
“Well, can’t you bring Douglas MacArthur back from the dead to help in our fight against terror?” Bush inquired.
“I don’t just do miracles on request,” Jesus said.
“Aww,” Bush moaned, “Well, I might as well introduce you to the guys.”
“I already know everyone,” Jesus stated.
“Oh yeah; you’ve probably seen them on T.V.”
“He’s omniscient, you jackass,” Cheney yelled at Bush. He then looked to Jesus. “So, could you tell us what the Democrat’s plans are?”
Jesus shook his head and chuckled. “I’m just here to consult you all on the virtues of morality.”
“But that’s boring!” Bush exclaimed. “Aww, well, I guess you better get to work moralizing. So, everyone welcome G-Man to the team… Hey, where did Rover go?”
“He fled into the darkness at the first sight of Jesus,” Condi answered.
“That wacky Rover,” Bush chuckled. “Now let’s flip the meeting table over and play some ping pong.”

“I found a country full of riches and oil!” Cheney exclaimed, “It would please Halliburton greatly if we killed them all and stole everything for ourselves. We just need to get the American people against them.”
“We could say they’re French speaking,” Bush suggested.
Jesus walked into the room. “So what are you guys up to?”
“Uh… not murder and stealing,” Cheney said uneasily, “Which are against the Ten Commandments.”
“So is lying,” Jesus said with a knowing stare. “Wouldn’t it be better if you two tried to help other countries instead of destroying them.”
“We tried that,” Bush complained, “but countries still hate us anyway.”
“Other countries may not thank you,” Jesus answered, “but God will.”
“But God has no export potential,” Cheney protested.
Jesus took away the binder from Cheney marked “Evil Plans”. “There are greater rewards in Heaven,” Jesus proclaimed before leaving the room.
“Now I have to make up new evil plans,” Cheney grumbled as he left the office.
A frantic Laura Bush burst into Bush’s office. “You did not tell me Jesus was going to be here for dinner!”
“Why? Is that a problem?”
“Well, I would have known then to make a better meal and take out the nice china… then again, maybe he wouldn’t have liked that show of opulence.” Laura looked about ready to pull out her own hair. “Argh! These are the sort of things we should have been fretting about hours earlier! And what if we run out of wine? Oh yeah… he can turn water into more wine.”
“He doesn’t like doing that trick anymore,” Bush informed her.
Laura grabbed Bush by the collar and started shaking him. “That’s the sort of thing I need to know!”
“You seem troubled, my child,” Jesus said soothingly as he reentered the office.
“No, just getting dinner prepared,” Laura said with an unconvincing smile, “It’s pork chops, by the way. Also, we’ll have…” Suddenly, Laura clutched her head in despair. “Oh no! You’re Jewish, aren’t you? Well, maybe I could quickly defrost some chicken…”
Jesus put his hand on Laura’s shoulder. “I’m sure whatever you prepare I will enjoy. Just calm yourself.”
“Oh, I’m calm… I’m calm,” Laura said with a nervous giggle. She then quickly ran out of the room.
“She’s a nice gal,” Bush commented as he went back to doodling X-Wings fighting Tie Fighters on his notepad.

Rumsfeld waited in the darkness. As he smelled the scent of pot, he knew his hippie prey was near. His hands tensed for a strangling.
“Whatcha up to?”
“Ahh!” Rumsfeld exclaimed in surprise. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Jesus! Chomps particularly doesn’t like surprises.”
The rottweiler growled at Jesus. “One of God’s beautiful creatures,” Jesus said as he laid his hand on Chomps’s head. Chomps immediately calmed down and went to sleep.
“What did you do to my dog?” Rumsfeld yelled angrily.
“I helped clear his mind of anger,” Jesus answered.
“No!” Rumsfeld exclaimed as he bent down to Chomps, “My poor dog!” He shook Chomps awake. “Get angry! Hippies! Hippies!”
Chomps licked Rumsfeld in the face.
“Have you ever thought that, instead of strangling hippies, you could treat them nicely and pray they see the errors of their ways?”
“No!” Rumsfeld said defiantly, “and, even as you say it, I’m still not thinking of it!”
“Well, remember to do unto others and you wish to be done unto you.”
Rumsfeld rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Confucius. Now I need to try and reangrify my dog.” He started shaking Chomps again. “The French!”

Condi was busy at her computer when she reached for her coffee mug and accidentally knocked it over, spilling it on some of her papers. “Aw… Jesus Christ!” she exclaimed as she went to get some paper towels.
“Someone call me?” Jesus asked as he entered her office.
“No, it was just an expletive.”
“Please don’t use my name in vain,” Jesus said sternly, but not angrily, “It’s annoying. How would you like it if every time I stubbed my toe I yelled, ‘Condoleezza Rice!'”
“Sorry, Jesus,” Condi said with annoyance.
Jesus looked at her computer. “Are these plans for world domination?”
“Maybe,” Condi admitted.
“Why must you conquer the world when God has already given it to you?” Jesus inquired.
“Because I want power!” Condi answered sharply.
“But there is no greater power than love,” Jesus told her.
Condi sighed. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“Now I will show you how to conquer the world through charity,” Jesus said as he put his hand on Condi’s shoulder.
“But I hate helping others!” Condi whined as Jesus led her away.

Bush glanced up from his Gameboy to see all his staff glaring at him angrily. “What?”
“Jesus has got to go!” Cheney stated, “If we don’t do some random acts of evil, Halliburton is going to be angry, and we all know they are actually in control of this government.”
“Yes, we all know that Halliburton actually controls this administration,” Bush said, “but we never state it out loud as we are doing now.”
“And look what Mr. Peace and Love did to my dog!” Rumsfeld said.
Bush looked at Chomps who was panting with a peaceful expression on his face. “He looks happy.”
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld shouted, “He hates being happy! This makes me want to strangle Jesus!”
“Yeah, but Jesus could just point to you with one hand and cause you to choke and then hit you with his laser sword,” Bush told Rumsfeld.
“I believe you’re thinking of someone else,” Cheney said.
“Well, even if you did kill Jesus, he’d just come back to life again and seek vengeance, like that time when he and his girlfriend were killed.”
“Now I believe you’re talking about the Brandon Lee film The Crow,” Cheney stated.
“Sorry; I get always get my deities confused,” Bush said. “What film was Jesus in?”
“Moron,” Condi sighed. “Anyway, Jesus has got me helping sick children,” she complained, “I hate sick people and I hate children and the two combined is just too much for me to stand!”
“And his eternal light cuts through the darkness that is the source of my unholy power,” Rove stated, standing back in the shadows.
“Rover, you said the same think about that halogen lamp I bought,” Bush answered, “but I can’t just give Jesus away as a house warming gift.”
“I like Jesus,” Scott said, “I was feeling bad, but then he said I’m a unique person of great worth and that God loves me and looks out for me.”
“And now he’s lying to Scott,” Cheney exclaimed, “That’s too much; you need to fire Jesus.”
“You shouldn’t mix politics and religion anyway,” Condi said, “This isn’t helping Christianity either. There are already some left-wing websites comparing Jesus to Hitler. So far, all they have that they both have facial hair, but they’ll soon get more creative.”
“And the muckraking is ongoing,” Cheney stated, “Apparently Jesus once freaked out in a temple and started knocking over tables.”
“Wow, I wonder where they read that from?” Bush asked. He thought for a moment. “If I fire Jesus, though, what about when I go before eternal judgment and ask to go to Heaven and he is like, ‘Hey! You’re that guy who fired me! You go to hell!'”
“There is some wisdom scattered about Bush’s idiocy,” Rove stated, “Jesus is from a powerful family, and we don’t want to turn them against us.”
“I have an idea!” Bush exclaimed, “We’ll tell Jesus that, to make sure we always have the best people on my administration, every few months we vote someone off in a secret ballot like on Survivor. Then we can vote him away and he won’t know who were the Judases.”
“If we all vote against Jesus,” Rumsfeld said, “Then he’ll know we all turned against him.”
“That’s the thing,” Bush said with a smug smile, “A few of us we’ll vote for someone other than Jesus. Then any of us can claim to not be the ones who voted for him to leave and he’ll be none the wiser.”
“Wow, for an idea from you, that’s almost not stupid,” Cheney said, thinking it over.
“Come on team,” Bush declared, “Let’s unload ourselves a messiah!”

“So, that’s seven votes to one,” Bush said, looking over the crudely written names on the large pieces of paper, “I’m sorry, Scott; I guess you’re voted off this administration.”
“Wh… wh… what?” Scott stammered.
“And I can’t believe you voted against Jesus,” Condi said with acted shock, “He died for your sins!”
“I… uh… didn’t vote against Jesus,” Scott said innocently.
“Come one, Scott,” Cheney said, “There’s only one vote for the Son of God and the rest for you, and someone can’t vote for himself.”
Scott turned to Jesus. “I hope you can forgive me.”
“I forgive everyone,” Jesus said with a smile, and then his expression turned more stern. “Eventually.”
Bush led Scott away from the group. “Guess we should have planned who was not going to vote for Jesus ahead of time,” Bush whispered to him.
“I just can’t believe Jesus voted against me.”
“Apparently he knows how to play the game,” Bush said, “but don’t worry; we’ll try and fix this.”
“So you’ll get me my job back?” Scott asked hopefully.
“Uh… yeah… sure – but don’t call us; we’ll call you.” Bush then shoved Scott out the door.
“So I guess you have to take over as White House Press Secretary, G-Man,” Bush stated as he returned to the group.
“Okay, but I can’t tell a lie,” Jesus answered.
Cheney shook his head. “This ain’t gonna work.”
“Hey, did you hear about all those times the Pharisees tried to trip me up?” Jesus told them, “I know how to handle the press.”

“So render unto Iraq what is Iraqi and unto America what is American.”
“You may have been able to feed thousands of people with five loaves of bread and two fish,” said an annoyed looking reporter, “but there are only so many times you can milk that phrase.”
“That’s the sixth variation of it we’ve heard today,” complained another, “Now we want answers of why the billions of dollars sent to Iraq have disappeared and Halliburton, instead of building schools for Iraqi children, has been found forcing the children to make Rolex knock-offs for three cents an hour.”
“Well… uh…” Jesus mumbled as he loosened his collar. “Hey! Look! Water into wine!”

He’s Chomps, Chomps, the world’s angriest dog.
Anything that moves, he’ll want to kill.
And, if it doesn’t move, he’ll attack it still.
‘Cause he’s Chomps, Chomps, the world’s angriest dog.
He’s angry at everything and we don’t why.
Just stay out of his way, or you’re gonna die.
Since he’s Chomps, Chomps, the world’s angriest dog.
YEAH!

“Dammit! Left the backdoor open again,” Donald Rumsfeld exclaimed. “Chomps must have gotten out, and I bet soon I’m going to be hearing from some whiny mother about how my dog swallowed her weak, stupid child. And there is no way to explain natural selection to a hysterical broad.” Rumsfeld stared at the door for a moment. He then took a swig from his whiskey flask. “Ah, screw it.”

Chomps was angry. The wind blew through the street. Chomps growled at the wind. He then barked at the street. Both filled him with rage. Then again, so did the building around him, the people on the sidewalk who gave him wary glances – glances that only made him angrier. Then there was the sky; it made him angry as well. He so wished to grab the sky by its neck and shake it until dead, but it had no neck. Things without necks made Chomps angry. Actually, everything he could see, smell, hear, or feel made him angry. The only problem was he could not lash out against it all. That knowledge made him angry.
He needed to find something to focus his rage on…

“Winning the Iowa caucus reminds me of how I served in Vietnam,” John Kerry told his audience. “In Vietnam I won things too, like a card game. And I talked – just like I am talking now. Vietnam. Vietnam. Vietnam.”
“This certainly was a boon for John Kerry, wasn’t it?” Wolf Blitzer commented.
“That it was,” Paula Zhan answered, “and I believe it’s worth mentioning that he had served in Vietnam.”
“Nothing could mar this day for him,” Wolf said, “Except, perhaps, for that very angry looking dog that’s charging his way.”
Chomps jumped up and grabbed Kerry by the top of his head and started shaking him. “Ah! My important looking hair!” Kerry cried. He then started screaming in pain.
“Is it just me,” Paula stated, “Or does his screams of pain sound a lot like, ‘I served in Vietnam’?”
“Let’s go to John Edwards who is speaking now,” Wolf said.
“My strong showing in Iowa shows that people want a positive message from an ordinary guy just like you,” Senator Edwards said. “I avoided negative campaigning and…”
Suddenly Edwards’s podium disappeared as Chomps chewed it apart.
“You stupid dog!” Edwards yelled. “I’m a lawyer! I’ll sue you and your owner!”
Chomps growled and stared at Edwards angrily.
“Uh… maybe we can keep the law out of this,” Edwards now said shakily as he held up his hands and backed away. “We’re both adults and…”
“Ow!” Paula exclaimed, “That’s has to dampen Senator Edwards’s mood.”
“It’s hard to be cheery with that much blood loss,” Wolf stated. “Now let’s go to Wesley Clark who is touting the endorsement of corpulent, disgusting, obnoxious liberal Michael Moore.”
“We have a fake presidency!” Moore said, holding a visibly uncomfortable Clark close to him. “And it’s time for a real general who will beat Bush and… DEAR GOD! NOT AGAIN!”
“And there is that angry dog once more,” Wolf stated, “He sure seems to have some energy.”
“He has to to be able to shake around that much mass,” Paula added.
Chomps tossed Moore into the crowd, crushing a number of his fans.
“Run away!” Clark yelled as he fled.
“I don’t think Clark is going to able to out run that rottweiler,” Paula said.
“Probably not. Now let’s go to Howard Dean who, undaunted form his loss in Iowa, is giving yet another psychotic, rage-filled speech.”
“WE WILL NOT GIVE UP!” yelled a red faced Howard Dean in front of cheering supporters. “WE’RE GOING TO NEW YORK! AND CALIFORNIA! AND WASHINGTON! AND MINNESOTA! AND OHIO!”
“Alphabetically!” shouted an enthusiastic Dean supporter.
“YOU WILL SEE US IN ALABAMA!” Dean now screamed, his face turning redder, “AND ALASKA! AND ARIZONA! AND ARKANSAS! AND CALIFORNIA! AND COLORADO!”
“Do state capitals!” yelled another supporter.
“WE WILL WIN IN DOVER! AND TOPEKA! AND JEFFERSON CITY! AND BISMARCK!”
“Now do foreign capital!” squealed an enthralled female Dean supporter.
“THEY WILL HEAR US IN PARIS!” Dean continued, looking like he was about to explode. “AND BRUSSELS! AND YAMOUSSOUKRO! AND BANDAR SERI BEGAWAN!”
“Dinosaurs of the late Cretaceous Period!” shrieked a supporter who was worked into a near frenzy.
“WE WILL MAKE THE BUSH ADMINISTRATION AS EXTINCT AS THE MASIAKASAURUS! AND THE BAGACERATOPS! AND THE TOCHISAURUS! AND THE CRATAEOMUS!” Dean’s face was now blood red, and he was no longer able to contain the rage inside him. He thus let out a primal, high-pitched yell of, “YEAGH!!!”
Then he was tackled by a rottweiler.
“There’s that dog again,” Wolf commented.
“You think you can take me!!!” Dean yelled, tossing Chomps across the stage.
“I guess it’s now a battle between the world’s angriest dog and the world angriest Democrat presidential candidate,” Paula stated.
Chomps leapt at Dean and clamped down his jaw upon Dean’s neck. “YEAGH!!!“, Dean yelled again, and, as he increased in anger, so did the size of the veins on his neck. Eventually the swelling veins forced Chomps’s mouth open and he could no longer keep his grip. Dean then punched Chomps in the stomach followed by a kick that sent the dog rolling across the ground.
“Massachusetts! New Hampshire! Rhode Island! Nevada!” Dean screamed as he charged Chomps once more.
Chomps stayed low and bit Dean’s leg, tripping him onto his face. Then, with all his weight, Chomps slammed down on Dean’s back.
“Ahh! My back!” Dean shrieked, “I give up and go skiing!”
As Dean got up and stumbled off, Chomps let out a bark of victory.
“Quite a day for the presidential candidates,” Wolf said.
“Yes it has been,” Paula answered. “That angry dog sure got around.”
“Almost defies logic,” Wolf stated.
“That is does. Next up… uh… I can’t read the teleprompter,” Paula said quizzically, “Kinda looks like the teeth of a gaping maw… AHHH!”

Rumsfeld noticed Chomps walk in through the back door. “You look so tired you can hardly keep your anger up,” he said sympathetically as he walked over to pet the rottweiler. Chomps’s anger died down even more until his growl was almost a purr.
“Now, let’s find some countries to bomb,” Rumsfeld told his dog. He looked over the map he had spread out on his coffee table. “Hmm. I never heard of that country. If it’s not a U.S. territory, what do you think about bombing it and stealing its riches, Chomps?”
Chomps barked in approval.
“That’s my boy!”