Obama staggers out of a Christmas party and tries to hail a cab. An oddly translucent man saunters up to him draped in gaudy gold chains and clothed in a loud Christmas sweater. He puffs his cigar contentedly and then takes a long suck on his Jello Pudding Pop.

The Cos: Hey, hey, hey, it’s Bill Cosby!

Obama: OM-Me, not again. Do I have to put up with this gosh-awful tripe every year now? So I guess this is where I am supposed to say, ‘You are just a bit of bad kibble or an undigested piece of schnauzer?’ Hey, what are YOU doing here anyway? What happened to Bob Marley? I thought this was his gig.

The Cos: He’s had some issues. First he was in hospital for smoking all the poinsettias.  Now it’s rehab and house arrest. He didn’t believe in borders, yet the states surrounding Colorado did. Got pulled over for driving and smoking a joint while black. Kids these days. No discipline. If I had done that, my father would have smacked my face clean off.  Just like with my brother Rudy when he put mashed potatoes in the bottom of his sleepers and made our momma feel ’em.  Mom, feel.  It’s a dead rat.  She fainted.  Dad didn’t faint.  Rudy had to pick his lips right off the floor.  They were quivering and crying but no sound was coming out.  Had to wash them off in the toilet.  Way better than the tub. Wash a part and then flush it right down. Wash another part, flush it right down.

Obama: Yeah, yeah.  But the water was cold and you had to use Rudy to warm it up.  I’ve heard your bits.  But, hey, homes, how are you a ghost if you’re not dead yet?

The Cos: My career is dead and rotting now, and that is close enough for spiritual work. You’re a lame enough duck now, I could put in a good word for you at the agency. How’d you like to haunt Ted Cruz?

Obama: Ted? Ew! You got to be kidding me. Now, Penelope…..

The Cos: Sure, take that attitude. You think you are on top of the world. You think you’ll never come down. Look at me. Look at what I have been reduced to. I thought I was a shoo in for that Noah movie last year, but no. Apparently my interpretation of the classic tale is no longer relevant. And now with all the rumors flying around about me lately, I need any paying gig I can get. I can’t even get a cameo in the BET movie of the week. A & E won’t let me play myself in my own Where Are They Now show. These rumors are the chains that are dangling all around me now, weighing me down. You can never escape your past.

Obama: Oh, I thought you just liked bling. Trying to look young and hip, yo.

The Cos: Like Michelle and her turnip rap? Yeah, that was a real epic success. But, no, my brother, these are the chains I have forged in life, and you’ve got a lot of this ugly bling waiting for you too unless you shape up.

Obama: Yeah I know. Three spirits are coming. Blah, blah, blah. Teach me a lesson. Blah, blah, blah. I don’t need these spirits, homes. Tiny Tim – Obamacare. Bob Cratchett – higher minimum wages and unions. Giving money to charity – no need, I pay my taxes. I’m all covered in the good deed department, bro. All you spirits are just a waste of my time.

The Cos: So arrogant and yet so ignorant. The first spirit will visit you when the clock strikes one.

Obama: I don’t have time for this. I have a 6 AM tee time. Can’t you just pester Joe this year?

The Cos: Can’t.  He’s busy.  He was already cast in the role of the Christmas fruit cake.

Obama: Ok, Nancy then? Her rictus will scare those spirits right back.

The Cos: I’m pretty sure she’s been cast as the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come this year.  She was the spitting image.  And get this.  She’s is paying for the privilege.  For some reason the old bat thought she had to sign the contract so she could find out what was in it.

Obama: Cripes. I knew I should have written that executive order banning all Christmas Carol adaptations after last year’s fiasco.

The Cos: Well, you didn’t, and you might as well proclaim an end to gravity cause we’d be coming for you anyway. And since you are going to be busy for the next few hours, would you mind if I visited Michelle. I can get out my Jello Pudding Pop….and the sucking….and the licking….and the hey, hey, hey.

Obama: Dude! She’s not an intern! And you are not Bill Clinton!

The Cos: No, no, no. You don’t understand. This is exactly how all those rumors get started. It’s not a euphemism. I really need for her to like this Jello Pudding Pop. All I have left are my Jello royalties. You got to get me a meet with Michelle. Gotta get Jello pudding into the foundation level of the new Food Pyramid. Get it on the school lunch menu every day. You gotta help a brother out, homes. I need the money.

Obama: No way, bro. Like I’m gonna do you a solid when you’re dumping this spirit crap on me? End this nonsense and we’ll talk.

The Cos: No can do. If this doesn’t turn you into a God-fearing, Christmas loving Christian, then I don’t get my bonus. Come on. Help a brother out.

Obama: Unbelievable! The gall! Taxi!!!

The Cos: You really think a taxi is gonna stop for you at this time of night? Really? Midnight Christmas day?

Obama pulls out his cell phone.

The Cos: You think you can call someone to save you? No one can save you. The ghosts are coming. You can’t escape from them. Your friends can’t pick you up. I know for a fact all your friends are plotzed right now. No one is gonna come for you. Who you gonna call?

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Dr. Egon Spengler (dropping four containment units at Obama’s feet): So we have the Cos and three Christmas ghosts, so that’s $80,000 plus the extra $15,000 for after hours holiday work.

Venkman: And Cos slimed me.

Spengler: Thank you for reminding me, Dr. Venkman. And an additional $10,000 fee on account of Venkman got slimed.

Obama: That’s not slime. (Scrapes some slime off Venkman with his finger and licks it up). That’s Jello pudding. Mmmmmmm. Pistachio.

Spengler: Nonetheless.  Still slimy.  Gonna count it.

Venkman: Pistachio. I’m allergic to nuts! Airways closing. Room going dark. Mother.  Mother is that you?  Come here. Come here so I can touch you before I leave…..

Spengler: And that is an additional $25,000 for hazard pay then. You didn’t warn us about the nuts. Pretty sure that is a labeling requirement.

Venkman: We should sue him.

Obama: No, I don’t think there will be any charges for this. You do know who I am, right? And you’ve heard of this little agency called the IRS……..