“McCain wants to distract you from the issues,” Barack Obama told a crowd at a campaign rally. “Instead of focusing on the economy and his mistakes with Iraq, he wants to distract you with my past associations or how I keep getting buckets stuck on my head — things that have nothing to do with the issues that concern you. Recently, McCain has started talking about my association with Crack Dealer Steve… a man I hardly even know and someone who has nothing to do with the financial crisis.”

Crack Dealer Steve waved to the crowd from behind Obama. “Hey. I sell crack to school kids.”

“McCain wants you to forget about the issues and instead smears me by association just because I sometimes play golf with Crack Dealer Steve, occasionally have him give a ride to my kids, and because I’ve driven getaway for him.”

“That reminds me,” Crack Dealer Steve said. “Can you be my alibi for Thursday?”

“Sure.” Obama looked back to the crowd. “And how was I even supposed to know he’s a crack dealer? I just knew him as a respected man in my community.”

“Well, I did introduce myself to you as ‘Crack Dealer Steve’ and asked if your kids wanted to buy some crack.”

“Anyway, the point is not my associations, but my judgment,” Obama said, “the judgment to play down those associations. Also, there are my accomplishments, like how I put together a desk I bought from Ikea two years ago.”

“It’s true; I helped,” Crack Dealer Steve stated.

“Instead, of talking about the important things. McCain wants to spread lies about me.”

“Like that whole Muslim thing,” Crack Dealer Steve said. “It’s not true. I’ve never seen a Muslim get totally hammered as much as Barry.”

“What McCain should be talking about is our financial crisis!”

Crack Dealer Steve nodded. “Lately, I’ve had to raise my prices on crack so much, school kids can hardly even afford it. I guess I can try selling crack to adults, but that’s a market I’m unfamiliar with.”

“Plus, these people McCain tries to associate with me aren’t even necessarily supporters,” Obama continued.

“Again, that’s true,” Crack Dealer Steve added. “I’m not voting for Barry; you can’t trust this spaz with jack. I once had him hold a bunch of crack for me for just a day, and you wouldn’t believe how much was missing when I got it back.”

“Also, to bring up these associations is obvious racism.”

Crack Dealer Steve looked confused. “I don’t get it; how’s it racism?”

“You’re white,” Obama explained. “Notice how they keep bringing up these white people to associate me with as if to emphasize in comparison how black I am. They never bring up all my numerous questionable black associates.”

“Don’t forget me!” Jeremiah Wright called out.

Obama chuckled. “Oh yeah… except for Wright.”

“I hate the honkeys!” Wright yelled out enthusiastically.

“And America,” Obama reminded him.

“Because it’s full of honkeys!”

Crack Dealer Steve shook his head. “You really do hang out with a lot of weirdos. I mean, I’m a crack dealer, and I hang out with a better class of people. I don’t know anyone who bombed the Pentagon.”

Obama covered his mike and turned to Crack Dealer Steve. “You’re really not helping.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to help. I thought I was just here because your kids wanted crack or something.”

“If they wanted crack, they didn’t tell me,” Obama said. “Now stop embarrassing me!”

“Bah. I’m outta here, Barry.” Crack Dealer Steve started to leave. “Oh, but could you give me a ride later? I’m going to have to ditch my car.”

“Sure.” Obama chuckled. “You’re lucky we’re such good friends.”