It’s Thanksgiving at the White House. Obama has invited Elizabeth Warren, the first female Native American Senator, Ingrid Newkirk, the first President of PETA, and Joe Biden, the first mentally challenged Vice President of the United States, over for the holiday feast.

Biden (Opens door to see Ingrid Newkirk holding two buckets of red paint. She is nude except for feathers taped to her helter skelter, and her body has been diagrammed labeling parts as drumstick, thigh, gizzard, etc.): (he giggles)

Newkirk: Hello, Joe.

Biden: (giggles)

Obama: Welcome, Ingrid. Well, that is an interesting outfit. That will certainly help us avoid overeating today. (shudder) Please make yourself comfortable. Have a seat over there. Yes, right over there where the shadows are darkest. Let me draw these curtains tight. Joe! Joe! Get off her leg!

(Doorbell rings)

Biden (runs to door and opens it): Hi. I am Joe.

Warren: How, Joe.

Biden: How what?

Warren: ‘How’ is Native American for ‘hello.’ Can you say how?

Biden: What? Why? Hello.

Warren: Not hello. How.

Biden: I am Joe.

Obama: Joe, see the ball? See the ball, Joe? Go get the ball, Joe! Go get it! Sorry, Liz. That should keep Joe busy for a little while. We’re having a hard time training him to keep off of visitors.

Warren: At least I hear you’ve gotten him to stop marking his territory.

Obama: That is true. And we are thankful. We never should have let him play with Bo. Monkey see, monkey do. Welcome to my humble home.

Warren: Apologies for being a little late.  We got a bit carried away. We have a Thanksgiving morning tradition in my family.  We always get the extended tribe together and reenact our favorite battles from the French Indian War.  This year we did Custer’s Last Stand.  Whoop, whoop, whoop!  I hate the US military!

Obama: I love that battle.  Isn’t it great when the good guys win?

Warren: Here, check out some of the footage.

Obama: Wow, those blood and guts look real.

Warren: Oh, they are.  And things were much more intense than usual this year.  I think it is because most the fam lost their medical insurance and couldn’t sign up at healthcare.gov.  Taking out a lot of frustrations.  We got some practice with old-timey Shaman medicine this year.  Here, I brought you some gifts.  (Holds up a fistful of scalps).  These will look absolutely fabulous on your wall.

Obama: Wow, are these real?  Were you stalking Tea Partiers again?

Warren: oh no!  They are always armed and dangerous.  We go for the easy prey. It’s just Scott Brown and some of the lesser Kennedys.  No one that will be missed.  Oh, and some of those Kennedys had such luxurious coifs.  It was so silky running my knife through their hair.

Newkirk: May I? (She takes a thick scalp).  That would make such a great wig.  (Puts it on her head). Ok, ok, who am I?  Back and to the left.  Back and to the left.  Back and to the left.

Obama: Hahahahaha.  You are incorrigible!

Warren: And here’s the dish I promised you. I hope you all enjoy it. This recipe goes back in my tribe since way before the Mayflower raped this land. This Native American specialty was probably served at the first Thanksgiving. It’s called Turkey Tikka Masala.

Newkirk: I thought we had agreed to a vegan holiday. (Hurls the red paint on Warren)

Warren: No worries. I made this with Tofurkey. Tofurkey has a storied tradition among my tribe. I still remember my grandmother telling me tales of when her father used to go out and hunt the wild tofurkey. There used to be flocks of them, but that was before the paleface came. They didn’t even like to eat the tofurkey. They just wanted the lovely plumage. The plucked carcasses littered the land like litter. (A lone tear crawls down her pale cheek).

Obama: Come here.  Let’s get you cleaned up.

Warren: No worries.  Can you even see the red paint against my natural complexion?  I’m a Washington Redskin, don’t you know?  See, I can say that because I’m Indian.  Now if you said it, I’d have to haul you in before the tribal council, and they’d mete out one of our traditional Indian punishments for you. You would get such an Indian burn, and they’d probably make you marry the bearded squaw.

Mrs. Obama (entering from the kitchen carrying a large platter containing a roast animal that is clearly not a turkey. Think smaller, with more legs and fur): And here is the piece de resistance.

Newkirk (brandishing now empty buckets): I thought we had agreed to a vegan holiday.

Mrs. Obama: No, no no. Please don’t get up. This is the traditional Kenyan meal of gratitude. Don’t you recall the pecking order? African culture trumps animal rights wackos. It’s like Lincoln used to say. All cultures are equal, except some cultures are more equal than others. Besides, this is the one you euthanized for me special.

Newkirk: Little Fluffernutter? The Bichon Frise?

Mrs. Obama: Bichon Fricassee.

Obama: Yep. And I made this powdered wig from the pelt. Don’t I look aristocratic?

Mrs. Obama: And that wig is totally gay, which trumps even African culture. You lose on both counts. Oh Barack, you would make such a cute gay black man.

Newkirk: You’re a monster!

Obama: Hey, you don’t talk to her like that. If you have a problem, you deal with me. Do you understand me? You deal with me.

Newkirk: Then you’re a monster too!

Obama (from behind Michelle): Racist!

Warren: I’m so glad.  Surely it makes the Great Spirit smile to see that these euthanized animals will not go to waste.  My ancestors were so in touch with nature.  Killing animals was like a sacrament to them.  They always made sure to use every single part of the rhino.  That is why to this day I make sure to buy up all the black market ivory I can.  I hate to think of those tusks going to waste and those majestic animals dying for nothing.

Newkirk: Oooooo, if my buckets weren’t already empty.  I won’t be a part of this. Good day, sir. And I’m taking my seaweed ripple ice cream with me.

Obama: Come on. Don’t be like that. Come here. Stroke my wig and kiss my ring. It will make you feel better.  Don’t forget your Kennedy wig.

Newkirk: (Takes scalp) Goodbye.

Biden: May I sit at that big boy table?

Mrs. Obama: It is ‘can’ I sit at the big boy table, and no you cannot. Big boys use proper Ebonic grammar. Axe me ‘gin rightly, and mebbee.

Biden: Aw nuts!

Mrs. Obama: And keep the cork on your fork. We can’t afford any accidents until healthcare.gov starts working.  But I’ll let you have the front drumstick. The paw is the best part.

Biden: Yippee!

Mrs. Obama: And don’t let me catch you feeding the dog to the dog again.  You remember what that would be, don’t you?

Biden: An obamamanation?

Mrs. Obama: That’s right. It would be an abomination.

Obama: OK, everybody.  Let’s get started.  It has always been a family tradition since I saw it on TV last year to go around the table so everyone can take a moment and tell us what they are grateful for.

Joe: Me first! Me first!

Obama: OK, Joe, you can go first.  What are you thankful for?

Joe: I like crayons.  And paste.  And crayons dipped in paste. And my red tricycle with the extra training wheels on the front wheel.  And my helmet with the glittery tassels.  And Ginger with her glittery tassels.

Mrs. Obama: Joe!!!!  Bad Joe!!!

Obama: It’s ok.  Ginger is his rabbit.

Mrs. Obama: Oh. Ok.

Joe: I hugged it and stroked it and called it Ginger and rolled it in glitter glue. And I like Dora, and Justin Beiber and Oswald.  I would like it better if I had testicles like Oswald.

Mrs. Obama:  Joe!!! Do I need to give you the Tabasco again?

Joe: No, no, no, no, no!  I just wanted testicles like Oswald the octopus.

Mrs. Obama: Oh, tentacles, dear.  You mean tentacles.

Joe: Yes, yes.  Those snaky, grabby thingies.  Tentacles.

Obama: Big difference.

Joe: And I like gum and chocolate, but not the dark kind, and licorice, but not the black kind.

Obama: Joe!  I can’t believe you said that.

Joe: Hee hee hee.  And coffee, but not the black kind.  And heroin, but not the black kind.

Mrs. Obama: Joe, stop it!

Joe: And holes, but not the black kind.  And people, but not the black kind.  And Presidents, but not the black kind.

Obama: Ok, ok.  I think that is enough before you get any more racist.  Sasha?

Joe: Hee hee hee hee.

Sasha: I am grateful I don’t have to go to public school with the prols.

Obama: And we are thankful for that too.  And you, Malia?

Malia: I am grateful for affirmative action, without which we would not be sitting here today.

Obama: Hear, hear!

Warren: Hey, that was what I was thankful for.  Of course, I’m also thankful that DNA testing couldn’t be performed back when I applied for the position at Harvard.

Mrs. Obama: And I am grateful that my nutrition guidelines don’t apply to this Thanksgiving feast.

Obama: And I am thankful that 51% of American voters don’t have a clue. And I think that is all of us, but before we partake, I think you should all take a moment and say grace to me and reflect upon why you are thankful for me and all that I have done for you. I have prepared some remarks for the occasion. Just give the teleprompter a moment to heat up.

Biden: I want to speech too! Please. I wrote it all by myself.

Obama: OK, but then it is back to the kids’ table.

Biden: Yippee! Ready. OK. Four score and seven years ago (recites Gettysburg Address).

Obama: Joe, are you sure you wrote that yourself? Except for that ‘under God’ phrase, that sounded like one of my speeches.

Biden: OK. I stole it from the iPod you gave the queen.

Obama: You know what the rule is about plagiarism.

Biden: Yes. Don’t ever get caught.

Obama: And?

Biden: And if you do get caught, cry racist.

Obama: That’s right. Let’s try this again. Joe, are you sure you wrote that yourself? That sounded like one of my speeches.

Biden: You’re a racist!

Obama: I’m speechless. Good boy, Joe. And now that my teleprompter is up and running, we are almost ready to eat. Just after my speech. It will be a dramatic interpretation of The Audacity of Hope. Chapter One…….