A horrible roar echoed through the hallways.
“It’s the Bolton!” shouted a UN peacekeeper. “Open fire!”
They all fired, but Bolton wasn’t even slowed.
“His mustache! The bullets are bouncing right off it!”
“Then fire around it!”
“We can’t! It’s too big!”
Bolton came ever closer, his ‘stache quivering with fury.

“The UN guys give you much trouble here?” President Bush asked John Bolton.
“No. They are nothing to me.”
“Cool.” Bush looked around the luncheon to the other foreign dignitaries. “I thought we were supposed to come in our tribal clothes. That’s why I have my cowboy hat and my gun belt.” Bush patted his six-shooter.
“They allowed you to bring that in here?”
“No one complained who wasn’t shot.” Bush smiled. “I’m gonna pistol whip that Ama-dibba-dabba-dooble midget from Iran. I don’t like him.” Bush looked around again. “Hey. There’s Hugo Chavez! I want to hurt him too!” Bush ran over to Chavez.
“El diablo!”
“I don’t know what that means,” Bush said, “but I have a message for you.” Bush hit Hugo with his pistol, knocking him to the ground. He then started stomping him. “That’s right! I stomp Communists!”
“Diablo hurt Hugo!” Hugo cried.
“Then why don’t you see if you can get a hug from one of your terrorist friends.” Bush then spat on Hugo. “Nutjob.” He walked back over to Bolton. “This luncheon is fun! I should come to U.N. Security Council meeting more often. I wonder who I should hurt next?”
“You stupid American!” Jacques Chirac shouted at Bush. “Why must you oppress the dictators of the world? France will use all its power to stop you!”
Bush just stared at Chirac. After a few moments, Chirac tossed his wallet to Bush and dropped to the ground and curled up into a ball. “That’s right.” Bush looked through the wallet and then tossed it back to Chirac. “That’s all stupid French money. Get it exchanged for real money then give it back to me.”
“Yes sir,” Chirac squeaked and then scampered off.
Bush kept looking around. “So where’s the itty-bitty Iranian?”
“There.” Bolton pointed to the entrance to the luncheon where Ahmadinejad stood, peering inside cautiously.
Bush strolled over and smiled mischievously. “Come on in, stubby. I want to ‘greet’ you.”
Ahmadinejad looked at Bush and shivered. “Uh… I would but…” He pointed at a bottle on a table. “There’s wine! Yeah, that’s the ticket, I can’t come in because there is wine. Wine has alcohol and that’s against what Allah says in… uh… that book I read.”
Bush looked at the bottle. “That’s sparkling grape juice.”
“Well… uh… that’s something made to resemble an alcoholic beverage, which is also an insult to Allah… or something… I think. I’ll have to consult an imam on this.” Ahmadinejad ran off.
Bush went out into the hallway and shouted at him, “Yeah! Go run off to your imommy!”
“So, you have your speech ready?” Bolton asked Bush.
“Yeah. I think it will go over well. I’m not the best public speaker, but I could be worse.”

“The next question goes to Senator George Allen.”
Peggy Fox looked through her notes. “My question is…” She stood up and pointed an accusing finger at Allen. “Joooooooooooo!”
“I’m not a Jew! I’m not a Jew!” Allen exclaimed. He pointed back at Fox. “You’re a macaca!” He then moved his finger to point at everyone in the audience. “You’re all macacas!”

“The next speaker is President Bush of…” Kofi Annan checked the paper he held. “…the United States.”
The auditorium erupted in boos. Bush fired his gun in the air. “Shut up! I’m speaking now!” Bush pulled out some index cards and began reading out loud. “Now, you know we all hate the U.N. here in America. It’s stupid and annoying. Plus, it’s full of foreigners who all smell. A number of times I’ve suggested turning this building here into a big shooting range. If that happens, we won’t give you any warning though; just one day a bunch of people will enter here firing guns. Also, I hate your leader, Coffee Anna. I don’t want to be accused of using racial slurs, but he’s a dumb cracker and I curse his mustache.
“But I digress. The reason I’m here is because of Iran and how its dwarven leader wants nukes. I was going to beat him up, but he actually runs pretty fast on those stubby little legs. I shouldn’t just focus on him, though, since he’s just a puppet of those mad mullahs. And it’s appropriate that he’s a puppet because he’s small… like a puppet. Anyway, if Iran keeps trying to get nukes, I will nuke them. But, I don’t want to hurt the citizens of Iran who want democracy, so I’ll use those nukes that only kill one person at a time on Ama-jibber-jabber and those mullahs.”
Bush looked to Bolton. “What do we call those nukes that only kill one person at a time?”
“Bullets.”
Bush addressed the auditorium. “Yes, I will kill the Iranian president and the mullahs with bullets.” He started reading from the index cards again. “I would like your support in this. I don’t actually need it, though, because I’m the President of the most powerful nation ever. Actually, I’m not even going to stay and listen to your speeches to see if you support me, because those speeches will be in crazy languages I don’t understand and they will be made by people who don’t even live in America. Now, I don’t listen to what most Americans say, so why would I listen to people who don’t live in America? That wouldn’t make any sense at all.
“Still, you people can help me. Many of your countries are stupid, but you can still follow simple instructions.” A wallet was tossed to Bush, and he caught it and checked the inside. He then pocketed it. “See, even a Frenchman can follow simple instruction when given forcefully. I know some of you will never help me, like Hugo Chavez, so I’ll probably beat you up while you’re here since I don’t have time to fly to each of your countries and then beat you up.”
Hugo held up a Noam Chomsky book to protect his face. “Save me from Diablo!”
“That’s the only reason I like having the U.N.,” Bush continued. “It brings all the dictators to me so I can beat them up instead of going to their countries… which usually smell. One day, I would like to break Castro’s hip… preferably before he dies.”
Bush took out his last index card. “In closing, after this November, I can pretty much do whatever I want since I no longer have to worry about public opinion. What I will want to do will probably cause many of you to cry and me to laugh. It will be fun. Thank you, and God bless.”
Suddenly, a bunch of people ran into the auditorium firing guns. Bush was surprised for a second, but then he slapped his forehead and said, “Oh yeah, that started today.” Bush took his gun out and fired it into the crowd. “Yee haw!”