Part I
Part II

“Hey, honey,” President Bush called out to his wife, “They’re now playing kung fu movies on C-SPAN.”
“That’s one of your press conferences, dear,” Laura answered.
“Wow! If I knew they were this cool, I would have watched one by now!”

White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan crashed through the chairs as the reporters gave way for the fight. Scott was quick to jump back to his feet. “You do not scare me, Shen Po of the New York Times!”
“Ha!” Shen Po laughed, “Then you are a fool, for I fight with the most vicious and deadly kung fu of all… MONKEY STYLE KUNG FU!”
“Noooo!” Scott screamed in fear.
“Baboon Punch!” Shen Po announced as he delivered a punch sending Scott flying across the room. Scott tried to get back up, but Shen Po yelled, “Ring-Tailed Lemur Flip-Kick!” as he delivered another blow to the bruised Press Secretary. Scott made one last attempt to stand.
“Capuchin Chop!” Shen Po struck Scott once more, and the press secretary fell to the ground unmoving. “Your silence in answer to my questions is damning,” Shen Po laughed as he stood over Scott, “Muh ha ha ha!”

“Why does the New York Times say you had no answer to the question of whether I assassinated the pope on behest of Halliburton?” Bush demanded of Scott.
“Shen Po’s questions were to strong for me,” Scott answered, “He fights with monkey style kung fu!”
“I’m tired of hearing about the liberal media and their monkey style kung fu!” Bush shouted, “A real press secretary should be able to handle this. I’m sure if I call the pope, he’ll know what to do.” Bush paused for a moment. “Wait, I had him assassinated on behest of Halliburton.” Bush paused. “Grrr! Now I’m all confused.” Bush rolled up the New York Times and started hitting Scott with it. “Bad press secretary! Bad!”
After Bush stormed away, Scott ran to the Zatoichi, the blind swordsman. “You have to help me, Ichi!” Scott pleaded, “I don’t want to get hit with a newspaper again! I must learn to defeat Shen Po at kung fu!”
“Why do people only come to Ichi if they have a kung fu related problem?” Ichi complained, “Why is it never, ‘Ichi, I need help with my car,’ or ‘Ichi, I have a moral quandary I need your input on.’?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I will only help you for three ryo!”
“But you took all my pieces of gold last time we played dice,” Scott whined.
“Oh yes,” Ichi grinned, “Fine, I will help pathetic, tubby fatman for free. I know of even greater kung fu than monkey style kung fu, but it is extra-hard… for fatman!”

Scott walked up to the podium. “I am ready for your questions,” he announced, his eyes on the grinning Shen Po.
“Why are Bush’s foreign policies a failure and leading to more terror? Is it because he is beholden to the Christian right and corporations?” Shen Po asked.
Scott began to answer, but then Shen Po shouted, “Proboscis Roundhouse Kick!” as he attacked Scott.
The podium was shattered, but Scott was not there. Shen Po looked up to see Scott flying down at him with a kick. “Our foreign policy is spreading democracy in the Middle East,” Scott said as his kick sent Shen Po flying backwards, knocking back a number of reporters. Scott then flipped through the air. “The best way to fight terror is elections,” Scott stated before landing a flying punch.
Shen Po rolled back to his feet and stared at Scott completely dumbfounded. “Your answers defy logic and gravity!”
“That is because I now use wire-suspended kung fu.” Scott spun quickly, finally landing a chop to Shen Po. “Now you will write in the New York Times of Bush’s successes or you will perish.”
“Lesser-Ape Palm Strike!” Shen Po announced, but Scott flew up twenty feet in the air and came straight down at Shen Po fist first.
“We are making progress at home and abroad,” Scott said as he struck Shen Po, “You will all report this or you will die!”
Shen Po was stunned, but then he noticed a nearby closet. He kicked the door open to see a number of men working Scott’s wires. “Spinning Buffy-Headed Marmoset Kick!” he yelled as he knocked them all out. He then turned to Scott. “Ha! Now you are grounded!”
“Eep,” Scott answered.
“Flying Non-Tarsier Prosimian Kick of Death!” Shen Po screamed as he launched into a powerful flying kick at Scott.
“Cowardly Duck!” Scott squeaked as he ducked and covered his face. Shen Po flew over Scott and through a window, plunging down a cliff that, until now, Scott had never noticed was right outside the press room.
“The Order of the Bronze Mongoose is avenged,” Scott announced as he looked out the window. He then turned back to the reporters who were each in martial art poses.
“We have all learned kung fu so we may battle your answers!” said one reporter.
Scott ripped off his shirt. “Then I shall fight you all!”

“Scott, did you get in a kung fu battle with the press?” Bush demanded.
“Sorry, sir.”
“And did it spill out into the streets causing panic throughout D.C.?”
“Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean that to happen.”
“And did you destroy a wing of the Smithsonian Natural History Museum with a chi blast?”
“It was aimed at the CNN White House correspondent– but sorry, sir.”
“You know that museum is full of dinosaur bones?”
“I know. Sorry, sir.”
“And you know we can’t get more because the caveman killed all of the dinosaurs?”
“I know – well, actually that’s factually inaccurate – but I’m sorry, sir.”
“That’s it!” Bush declared, “I’m banning kung fu from press conferences!”
“But kung fu hasn’t been banned since the Lyndon Johnson administration!” Scott protested.
“And it’s happening again!” Bush said, “Now go do a proper press conference.”
Scott looked down at his feet. “Okay.”

“Well, all the excitement is over,” Scott told the press, “Let’s go back to some regular questions with regular answers, and hopefully the American people will end up informed in the end. Now who has the first question?”
“Why are you so fat?”
THE END