“I will have all those criticizing me disappeared,” Vladimir Putin mused to himself, “I’ll need to bring back the KGB. And then other countries like Ukraine will fall in line. Soon the Soviet Union will be brought back to its glory it had under my hero Stalin… but in secret. Muh ha ha ha!”
Putin opened the door to his office to see Condoleezza Rice and President Bush sitting there. “What is this?”
“It’s an intervention,” Bush explained, “You’re behaving too much like a dictator, and we felt it was time to confront you.”
“Just the two of you?”
Bush shrugged. “Well, everyone else was too scared of you… which is just more evidence that you’re a dictator!”
“That’s crazy!” Putin yelled, “I was elected to my office.”
“That was a phony election, and you know it, Pootie-Poot,” Bush answered, “You didn’t have any real competition.”
“At least I wasn’t appointed by the courts for my first term!” Putin shot back.
Bush jumped from his seat. “It was a majority vote in the courts!”
“You get out of here!” Putin demanded, “And stop meddling with my Balkans. They are mine to do with as I please and should be grateful of their Soviet oppression after World War II!”
“Not going to happen,” Bush said. Some men in white coats came in and grabbed Putin.
“What’s happening?” Putin shouted.
“They’re taking you to the dictator rehab center,” Bush explained. One of the men then grabbed Bush. “Hey!”
“We heard that you’ve been acting like a dictator, too,” the man explained.
“That’s just liberal propaganda!” Bush yelled as they began to drag him away. “Condi! Do something!”
“Can I be President while you’re gone?” she asked.
“No! Absolutely not!”
Condi didn’t hear Bush’s response as she was already plotting evilly.

“Well, we’re in a dill of a pickle,” Bush chuckled as he sat at a little desk next to Putin.
“You idiot!” Putin exclaimed, “Russia and America are no longer friends!”
“Quiet class,” the teacher said, “Today we’re going to learn about treating our citizenry with respect to their freedom. Let’s start with testing where each of you are now on the subject. Let’s say there are some people saying mean things about you – what do you do?”
“Have them disappeared in the middle of the night to a secret prison no one knows about!” Putin answered, “I am ruler of Russia! My authority will not be questioned!”
“I’m afraid that’s wrong, Vladimir,” the teacher said. “Can you answer it, George?”
“Uh… I cover my ears and shout, ‘La! La! La!’ so I can’t hear them and maybe stick my head underwater,” Bush said.
“That’s closer to the right answer,” stated the teacher, “What I was looking for is that you don’t do anything to stop other people from speaking, because they all have a right to say what they want. Now, can either of you tell me why you don’t run over protestors with tanks? Vladimir.”
Putin thought for a moment. “It will get gunk in the tank treads and mess them up.”
“I’m afraid that’s wrong.”
“Oh! I know!” Bush shouted, raising his hand, “Call on me!”
“George.”
“Even though some people may be dumb and smelly, that still makes it wrong to crush their skulls with large vehicles,” Bush recited.
“Very good!” the teacher exclaimed, “You get a gold star for that answer!”
“Suck up,” Putin muttered.
“Now, our first lesson is going to be on interfering with other countries’ elections,” the teacher said as she turned to start writing on the blackboard.
Bush passed a folded piece of paper to Putin. Putin opened it up to see a stick figure drawing of the teacher saying, “Blah! Blah! Blah!”
“Dah!” Putin laughed, “It’s funny because it’s true!”
“Are you passing notes?” the teacher demanded.
Putin rose from his seat. “You will not question me! I am ruler of Russia! I will send you to gulag!”
“No one is going to a gulag!” the teacher shouted, “You sit back down right now, or you’ll sit in the corner during snack time!”
Putin grudgingly sat.
“Pootie-poot got yelled at,” Bush mocked.
Putin looked at Bush with a threatening stare. “I’ll get you after class.”

“Since Bush is away to rehab…” Condi started to say.
“Rehab for what?” one of the reporters asked.
“I dunno… cocaine,” Condi answered, “But that’s not the point. The point is I am president now. You may all come and kiss my rings.”
“The order of succession wouldn’t make you president.”
“As my first act as president, I changed the order of succession so that I am president,” Condi explained, “Now, no more questioning me. Enforcers! Watch them!”
Large robots walked amongst the press. “What are these?” asked a panicked reporter.
“They are my new robot enforcers,” Condi said, “They will do anything I say without question and eliminate all who defy me.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Take him away!” Condi demanded. A robot grabbed the reporter and lifted him in the air. “Have him work on the giant statue that is being made to honor my glory.” Condi looked back to the press. “You will now be handed each day what you will report. Any deviation from my texts and my Enforcers will take care of you.”
One reporter raised his hand. “Can we edit your propaganda for length?”
“Take him away!”

“You two will share a room,” the teacher told Bush and Putin.
“I call top bunk!” Bush yelled as he jumped on the top bunk. Putin grabbed Bush and tossed him to the ground.
“The top bunk is mine!”
“But I called it!”
“I care not! It is mine!”
“You two better learn how to settle this democratically,” the teacher said.
Bush looked around the room. “Where’s the T.V.?”
“No T.V. while you’re here,” the teacher said, “it will distract from the learning.” The teacher then left the room and closed and locked the door.
“But they’re to the last few finalists in American Idol!” Bush exclaimed, “I have to find who stays and who goes!” He grabbed Putin by his suit jacket and started shaking him. “I have to know! We need to escape!”
Putin swatted Bush’s hands away. “Calm down! I used my KGB experience to formulate a plan of escape already. We’ll kill most everyone here as an example to others.”
“Don’t be silly,” Bush said, “We’ll just make a rope out of sheets and climb out the window. That’s how they always do it on T.V., and people who write for T.V. are smart.”
Putin looked out the window. “It’s ten stories down and we only have two sheets.”
“That’s not a ‘can do’ attitude,” Bush said as he shoved Putin out of the way and jumped out the window with his makeshift rope. There was the sound of him screaming, followed by a thud, followed by him moaning, “Owww! My fragile bones!” Then there was silence, finally interrupted by a shout of, “Wahoo! I escaped!”
Putin stuck his head out of the window. “Wait for me!”

“So where are we?” Putin asked Bush who was driving the truck.
“I don’t even know what country we’re in,” Bush said, “I guess you should have asked for directions when you robbed that liquor store.”
“Next time you have car running and waiting when you are getaway driver,” Putin declared. “Idiot.”
“I’ll get you home soon,” Bush promised, “So, I hope you learned a lesson from all this.”
“I learn nothing!” Putin shouted, “Now I will crack down even harder on all who oppose me!”
Bush chuckled. “That’s my crazy Pootie-Poot.”

Bush walked back into town. “Finally back to America,” he stated. He looked around and didn’t see anyone. “It’s your president!” he shouted, “Someone come out and give me a tickertape parade in celebration of my return!”
A large robot walked towards Bush.
“Cool!” Bush exclaimed, “A robot like at Disney World!”
“You have broken the curfew!” the robot said in a mechanical voice.
“The what-few?”
The robot’s eyes glowed red and it pointed its gatling gun arm at Bush’s head. “Return to your place of residence now or you will be terminated.”
“Do the robot dance!”