“Ahh,” Bush sighed as he relaxed in his office chair, “It’s so nice to relax a bit and know that I’m up for reelection against a total goober and that nothing could go wrong. That’s right: nothing can go wrong.” He basked in the nothing wrongness for a moment. “Not a thing could go wrong.” He put his feet up on his desk. “Nothing at all wrong could go and such and so forth.”
Over the intercom, Cheney shouted, “Mr. President, something has gone terribly wrong!”
“Dammit!”

“A new independent as entered the presidential race,” the anchorwoman announced, “He’s heavily financed and it looks like he’s making a serious bid for the presidency. We go now live to his press conference.”
A handsome man in a well tailored suit stepped up to the podium. “It’s time for the politics of division to end, and that’s not going to happen by reelecting a hard line right-winger or putting a wishy-washy liberal into office. Instead you need a moderate like me with the experience of uniting people of all backgrounds for a common cause. Thus, I’m starting the Satan in 2004 campaign.”
“Not the prince of darkness!” Bush shouted at the T.V. screen. He then turned to Cheney. “Or is he the ‘king of darkness’ now? I really haven’t been following that.”
“Just watch,” Cheney growled.
“Lucifer, do you think you could be a spoiler in this race?” a reporter asked.
“First off, don’t call me Lucifer; that’s my slave name. Second, this isn’t like that silly Nader candidacy; I’m in this to win.”
“What political experience do you bring?”
“I’ve run hell since the beginning of time,” Satan answered, “and it has a population even greater than America. I think I’m more than qualified.”
“Is it true you tried to overthrow God?”
“Are you going to fault me for being ambitious?” Satan chuckled, “I disagreed with God on a few key issues, but, in the end, that’s a dispute between me and Him. Anyway, I’m giving up that eternal conflict to run for president now.”
“Are you responsible for Hitler, Satan?”
“Believe me, that mustache and hair style was all his choice,” he said with a smile, and the press laughed.
“He’s witty and charming!” Bush exclaimed, “We need to keep him out of the debates!”
“No reason to panic until we see some polling,” Cheney said.
“Doom!” Karl Rove exclaimed as he emerged from the shadows. “The elders prophesized that once the warrior known as Reagan fell, evil would walk the earth again and mount an effective campaign.”
“Do you really think he’ll take votes away from me?” Bush asked, “I mean; he’s evil… he should do well with the Democrats.”
“Satan’s dark appeal can draw any who is weak in will,” Rove stated.
“I just want people to know,” Satan said, “That I’m for good things everyone likes and against bad things.”
“He sounds like a nice guy!” Bush exclaimed, “I think I might vote for him.”
Cheney slapped Bush upside the head and shut off the T.V. “Keep focused.”
“Ow,” Bush sobbed, “Well, who was that blond woman next to him?”
“That’s Beelzebub, fallen angel and shrewd campaigner,” Rove answered, “Every candidate she ever worked for has always won, often with more than ninety percent of the vote. Of course, that’s because they’re often dictators holding sham elections.”
“A sham election!” Bush exclaimed, “That’s a great idea! How do we do one of those?”
Cheney hit Bush again.
“Ow! Okay; let’s have a strategy session.”

“I don’t get it,” Scot McClellan said, “Is Satan even eligible to run for president?”
“That’s a good question,” Bush answered, “and an even better question is who let Scott in on our strategy session?”
“I can answer the first question,” Rove stated, “Apparently Satan owns an estate in Massachusetts, but spends most of his time in hell for tax purposes.”
“I don’t know why you’re all worried about this devil character,” Rumsfeld growled, “Back when I was a kid, the earth used to crack open spewing forth devils all the time. We’d just fight them off with pitchforks to keep them from getting our crops. Let’s just pitchfork this joker too. I don’t have enough pitchforks for everyone, though; you’ll have to supply your own.”
“Let’s just keep that pitchfork idea in the back of our minds for right now,” Bush said, “Now let’s look at some regular tactics such as muckraking. So, does this Satan character have any dark secrets in his past we know about?”
“You’re an idiot,” Condi sighed.
“No, dark secret about him,” Bush corrected her, “Like, do we know of any instances of him lying?”
“He lied to Adam and Eve about the forbidden fruit,” Scott offered.
“That’s a start,” Bush said, “So do we have documentation of that?”
“Uh… yeah.”
Bush thought for a moment. “I think we need something better that. Is there any unpopular policies he has been on record supporting.”
“He’s Satan!” Condi shouted, “His policies are of famine, death, and destruction.”
“And people don’t like famine, death, and destruction,” Bush pointed out excitedly, “That’s a good start. We’ll hit him on that.”
“If you fail to defeat him,” Rove warned ominously, “It will mean the destruction of all humanity.”
“You said the same thing about Gore,” Bush responded.
“It’s still true.”
“I think we need to take drastic action then,” Bush stated solemnly. He then turned to Cheney. “Dick, you’re off the ticket.”
“What!”
Bush picked up the phone in front of him and dialed a number. “Hello, Jesus, this is President Bush… What do you mean how did I get your number? I’m the President of the United States. We have everything on file. We even have plans stashed away somewhere to invade Heaven if we one day deem it a threat. But that’s not important; I want you to be my running mate… What do you mean you don’t want to get involved in politics? But we need your help to defeat Satan… But if I’m helping myself, why would I need your help anymore? …That’s neat how you’re making a sound just like a dial tone, but that walking on water trick was a much cooler.” Bush was silent for a moment. He then put down the phone. “Jesus hung up on me! Well, I guess we’ll need to find someone else who’s experienced with defeating Satan.” Bush thought for a moment. “I know! Arnold Schwarzenegger! He once defeated Satan.”
“That was a movie!” Cheney shouted.
“Yeah, he made a lot of great movies,” Bush said and then started laughing. “Remember that one comedy where he got that boring, corrupt guy thrown out of office and then replaced him in a special election to become Governor of California? That was hilarious! What was it called… Total Recall?”
“That was real life!” Cheney screamed. He then got up. “Fine. Satan is going to be elected president and humanity is doomed. I’m going to the bar. Who is with me?”
“I hate meetings that aren’t about war,” Rumsfeld grumbled.

“So what’s the polling say, Bee,” Satan asked.
“You’re easily grabbing the undecided,” she answered, “but it will take more work to get you past either Kerry or Bush.”
“It will be an easy task,” Satan proclaimed, “The pathetic humans shall soon fall for my wiles.”
“Still, I’d recommend picking a running mate from the Bible Belt where you’re polling very poorly,” Bee said.
“We’ll do what’s needed,” Satan declared, “and then victory will be ours. Our only challenge is that idiot Bush and Kerry who is a total goober.”
“This better not end like your other plans where we get cast down into hell and are tormented by penal flames,” Bee warned.
Satan rolled his eyes. “We’ll quit going on about the penal flames?” Satan said, “This plan can’t fail because God can’t intercede. He gave his pathetic creations free will, and with that will they will cast the ballot for me. Then I will control America and make it a inviting place that the world will embrace– and then be destroyed along with us. Muh hahaha!”
“Fine,” Bee answered, “but quit it with the evil laugh. You accidentally do that in public it will permanently cost you at least a percentage point.”

“Unlike the other candidates, I can defeat terrorism without any violence,” Satan said as he walked through a desert, “That’s because I’m someone who can talk to them.”
A terrorist then shouted, “Hey! It’s Satan!” and ran up to him. He then faced the camera and said, “We may hate the great Satan, but the regular Satan – he’s all right!”
The screen then said, “Satan in 2004: Give in to your feelings.”
Another commercial then started with images of plague and death. “Satan is evil and wishes nothing but destruction,” Bush narrated, “So don’t vote for him.” A smiling picture of Bush then came on screen. “But I’m a nice guy, so vote for me. Oh, and don’t vote for Kerry either; he’s a goober.”
The screen then said: “Bush in 2004: Of the three evils, he’s certainly one of the lesser.”
John Kerry turned away from the T.V. screen to look towards his butler. “Does this Satan guy really then he can beat me?” Kerry asked, “Did he even serve in Vietnam?”
“I don’t think so, sir,” the butler answered.
Kerry then looked at a box in front of him. “These aren’t my medals! Whose are these?” he exclaimed, and then handed the box to his butler. “Jeeves, could you go toss these over a wall for me?”
“Certainly, sir.”
TO BE CONTINUED…