“Yet another grand day of me being in charge of the world,” President Bush said as he looked out the window of the White House. He then saw a new building next to his labeled “El Casa Blanca.”
“What the–” Bush exclaimed as he quickly headed out of the White House to check it out. “That better be a new Mexican eatery!”
Bush went over and knocked on the door. A Mexican answered. “Who are you?”
“I’m the President of the United States, and you better explain yourself!”
“I’m Pedro, and I’m now the President! People voted for Pedro, so now I’m President and this is the new White House!” A number of Mexicans behind him yelled, “Yeah!”
“What?!” Bush exclaimed as he entered the building. “You can’t be President! I’m President! You’re breaking the law!”
“We’re illegal immigrants, and your laws don’t mean nothing to us, gringo!”
“Yeah!” the other Mexicans yelled.
“You don’t treat us right,” Pedro continued, “so we’ll take what we want!”
“Yeah!” the other Mexicans yelled.
“But I’ve capitulated on this issue!” Bush whined. “If I capitulate anymore, I’ll have to reregister as a Democrat!”
“Too bad! We want more! We want more respect and free money and beer and an XBox!”
“XBox 360!” another Mexican corrected Pedro.
“Yeah!” the other Mexicans yelled.
“An XBox 360!” Bush shouted. “That’s completely unreasonable!”
“Well, you better all do as we say,” Pedro answered, “or who will pick your beans?”
“Yeah!” the other Mexicans yelled.
“Well, obviously not you people,” Bush said, “because you’re all just sitting around here watching Telemundo and drinking beer.”
“Shut up!” Pedro yelled. “And get out of our White House!”
“Yeah!” the other Mexicans yelled.
“Fine.” Bush turned to leave, but he couldn’t open the door.
“That door keeps getting stuck,” Pedro said. “You really have to give it a good pull.”
“Yeah!” the other Mexicans yelled.
Bush gave the other Mexicans an odd look.
“They don’t speak English,” Pedro explained. “I’m just told them to shout ‘Yeah’ to anything I say when talking to gringos.”
“Yeah!” the other Mexicans yelled.
“Well, I don’t care how much ‘Si’ men you have, there is only room enough for…” Bush started laughing. “Oh man; did you hear what I just said?”
Pedro laughed too. “That was funny, man.”
“Anyway, there’s only room enough for one President of the United States in this town!” Bush then stormed off.
“When we see you again,” Pedro shouted, “you better have an X-Box for us!”

“We have too many Mexicans now, and we have to do something about it,” Bush stated. “Capitulation didn’t work, so we need another solution.”
“More capitulation?” White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan suggested.
“You’re only allowed to take notes, tubby!” Bush shouted. “No talking! Anyone else?”
“We have to make it clear to the American people that we hate Latinos,” Vice President Cheney said.
“But we don’t hate Latinos,” Bush answered. “We just don’t like having illegal immigration.”
“But I do hate Latinos!” Cheney turned to Attorney General Alberto Gonzales. “I hate you!”
“Go @#$% yourself!” Alberto replied.
“You stole my catch phrase, you thieving bandito!” Cheney leapt across the table at Alberto.
“Just remember how Texas was founded,” Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld suggested. “It was founded by shooting Mexicans. We need to shoot Mexicans!”
“We’re not shooting Mexicans!” Bush answered. He then turned to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. “You’re the diplomat; what do you think we should do?”
Condi didn’t hear him, as she was busy listening to a tape and repeating Spanish phrases.
“Fine,” Bush said, “I’m calling the Mexican President.” Bush picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Hola! El Presidente Vicente Fox speaking.”
“Hey, Vicki, come get your Mexicans!” Bush yelled.
“No! If they want to come to America, who am I to stop them?”
“If you were a better President and fixed the economy, they wouldn’t want to leave Mexico.”
“Yes, but just letting them leave to reduce unemployment is much easier than fixing the stupid economy.”
Bush growled. “You may be better than your predecessor, but you’re still a lousy president.”
“Whatever. Anyway, I make pottery in my spare time. You want to buy some?”
“No!”
“Come on, Dubya; you used to be cool. Buy some pottery.”
“Never!”

Vicente Fox stood out on a balcony to address his people. “I have just talked to the American President, and he said that America hates Mexico and Mexicans… and then he insulted my pottery! You all know what to do!”
“Let’s move to America!” everyone shouted.
“That will teach him to not buy my pottery!” Vicente laughed to himself.

“We used to be called the INS,” an older ICE agent explained to a rookie, “but now we’re called ICE.”
He paused for a moment as they watched thousands of Mexicans run across the border.
He turned back to the rookie. “Anyway, sometimes I still accidentally say INS. Old habits die hard.”

“Stupid gringo president,” Vicente grumbled to himself. “I can send as many Mexicans as I want into America.” He walked onto his balcony. “So who is best president?” he called out.
There was no answer. Vicente looked about and saw nothing but a tumbleweed moving through the city.
“Hola? Any Mexicans left?”
An older woman wearing a sun hat and a camera around her neck walked into view. “My name is Doris, and I came here for the tourism but can’t find any tour guides or any waiters. Can you give me a tour?”
“Hey, you want to be a Mexican citizen?” Vicente asked hopefully.
“No.”
Vicente hung his head. “No one wants to be a Mexican citizen.”

“The White House is full of Mexicans!” Bush exclaimed as he looked at everyone hanging out in White House drinking tequila and throwing burrito wrappers everywhere. The phone then rang. “This better be about the Mexicans!” Bush answered.
“It is!” Vicente replied. “There’s no one left in Mexico for me to be president of! Even the chupacabra is gone!”
“The chupacabra is here!” Bush exclaimed. He then turned to his wife. “Honey, make sure our goats still have blood!”
“Please send me back some of my citizens!” Vicente pleaded.
“I’ll try.” Bush hung up and looked to the interlopers. “Hey, Mexicans, your president says you have to go home now.”
“But we like it here,” Pedro answered as he took something out of Bush’s living room.
“That’s my XBox 360!” Bush yelled.
“Not anymore, gringo,” Pedro said as he and his friends left.
“Aww, this has worked out horrible,” Bush groaned. “Vicki has no citizens to rule, and I have no XBox 360. We’re both miserable.”
“This should be a lesson to you,” Laura Bush said, taking a break from picking up the burrito wrappers. “When you capitulate on an issue, no one is happy.”
“The guys who took my XBox are happy.”
“Well… sometimes lessons are complicated.”
Bush stood up with a look of resolve. “I’m going to go throw a rock through one of their windows!” He marched off.
Laura sighed and went back to picking up burrito wrappers. “Yeah, that’ll solve it.”