“…and that’s why education is important,” President Bush told the second graders. “Any questions?”
A little boy raised his hand. “No one likes you.”

Bush glared at him. “That’s not a question.”
A little girl raised her hand. “Will Hillary Clinton eat my soul if she gets elected?”
Bush thought about that. “Eh… probably. Of course, I’m not going to president in 2009 no matter how elections go, so it’s not my problem. Now, a lot of people suspect that Senator Clinton is filled with some sort of supernatural evil that corrupts everything around her… but that’s also part of her appeal and what makes her a shrewd politician. Any other questions?”
“No one likes you.”
“THAT’S NOT A QUESTION!”

“I hate children,” Bush told Laura.
“Shh. I’m watching The View.”
Bush sat down in an easy chair to watch.
“The government lies to us!” Rosie O’Donnell screamed. “They poisoned the pet food to bring attention away from their illegal war in Iraq!”
“I just don’t think there’s any proof to that assertion,” Elizabeth Hasselbeck said.
“YOU SHUT UP, YOU WHORE!” The massive Rosie stood up and flailed her arms around like a panicked elephant, knocking over furniture. “BUSH TOOK DOWN THE WORLD TRADE CENTERS AND CAPTURED THE BRITISH SAILORS HIMSELF! YOU’RE BLIND IF YOU DON’T SEE THAT!” She threw a chair at Elizabeth. “FIRE CAN’T MELT STEEL! FIRE BAD! FIRE–”
A snare enclosed around Rosie’s legs and hefted her up into the air, hanging her upside down over the stage.
“Just let her hang upside down a bit until she calms down,” Barbara Walters said. She turned to the audience. “By the way, everyone here is getting Homedics Personal Massager.”
The audience cheered.
“I don’t get this show,” Bush said. “Barbara Walters talks about news and women’s crap with three mentally retarded people. Isn’t it wrong for them to be exploited like this for us to laugh at them?”
Laura shook her head. “I like this show.”
“And who is that Joy Behar?”
Laura shrugged. “I think she’s a comedian.”
Bush grimaced. “Just because you go on stage and people laugh at you, doesn’t make you a comedian.”
Dangling from the air, Rosie’s voice began to dwindle. “Scientists show fire no melt steel… talk to Harvard and Yale…”
“I don’t know about Yale,” Joy said, laughing nervously at her yet unspoken lame joke. “That’s where Bush went to college.”
Bush laughed. “She thinks she’s smarter than me; that’s cute.” He noticed a newspaper on the coffee table. “Hey! A paper with news on it!” He picked it up and looked inside. “I can’t believe Pelosi actually wore a full veil in her Middle East visit.”
“The weird thing is that it was when she was meeting with the Israeli prime minister.”
Bush set down the paper. “I always ask her to cover her face when talking to me, but she never listens.”
“So how have things gone with getting the Democrats to support the war?” Laura asked.
“Same old.”

Tied to the hood of a car, speeding head on into traffic, Harry Reid wouldn’t stop screaming.
“Could you be quiet for a second?” Bush was doing the best he could to avoid a head on collision as he steered the car. “I’m just trying to get your attention to explain something to you. See, you say the war is a huge waste, and yet you want to fund it for a year with a date set for certain failure. I really think the whole reason you’re doing this is for political purposes and to appease those wiener kids on the internets. You understand what I’m saying?”
As he saw more headlights racing towards him and narrowly missing, Harry Reid continued to scream.
“If you had any integrity — or balls — you’d either vote to defund the war now or get off my back. Now hold on; we’re going into a tunnel.”

“That reminds me: I need to issue myself another pardon.”
“You have to be careful with that,” Laura chided him. “Your approval rating is bad enough.”
Bush scoffed. “I’m going to be unpopular when I leave office no matter what, so I might as well focus on what’s important: Winning this war to keep America safe, free, and full of illegal Mexicans.”
Evil laughter echoed from the shadows.
Laura looked around. “You ever wonder what Karl Rove wants those Mexicans for?”
“Far as I understand, it’s some grand political strategy… or he’s abducting them and chopping them up to make cheap hot dogs.”
Laura nodded. “So when do you think we’ll have a war with Iran?”
Bush shrugged his shoulders. “Later next week… I think.”