“Corporations. Corporations. Nothing but big corporations.”
Cheney shut off the T.V. “Nader has entered the race.”
“Man, I’ve never heard someone say ‘corporations’ so many times in one minute,” Bush remarked, “and he says it like it’s a swear word. What happened to him? Did a corporation pick on him when he was a kid?”
“He’s just a sick, twisted individual,” Cheney answered.
“And perhaps the key to your reelection,” said the hooded figure of Karl Rove as he emerged from the shadows.
“Why does my presidency always rely on sick, twisted individuals?” Bush exclaimed.
“He tipped the scales in your favor in 2000,” Rove said, “and he could do so again.”
“He’s like a Perot,” Bush said, “but working for me instead of against me like in 1992. I’m still stinging from that one.”
“That was your father!” Cheney exclaimed angrily.
Bush thought for a moment. “Oh yeah. I get us confused because we have the same name.”
Cheney slapped Bush upside the head. “Do you have to do that?” Bush asked angrily.
“Yes. It’s part of my job as VP.”
Bush rubbed the back of his head. “One of these days I’m going to read the Constitution and check that.”
“Can we focus?” Rove demanded angrily, the room growing darker as he spoke, “We must make sure that the one called Nader gains support from the liberals. The only way to do that is to make them think that there are few differences between the Democrats and Republicans.”
“But the Democrats are different!” Bush objected, “They smell!”
“Are we going to talk about war at any point in this meeting?” Rumsfeld demanded.
“This is all about reelection strategy,” Cheney answered.
“Then I’m going to my office and punch holes in my wall,” Rumsfeld said as he got up, “You girls call me when we’re back to talking about useful things.”
“Less distractions,” Rove uttered, “Now, we need to have people infiltrate a meeting of liberals and convince them to become grassroots support for Nader. Then they will pull in others and no one will be able to stop us.”
“But everyone is too busy with government functions to do stupid crap like that,” Cheney said, “Well… except for Bush; I’m not sure if he does anything.”
“That’s right!” Bush said, “I don’t do anything! I’ll do it!”
“Then it is decided,” Rove uttered, before fading back into the shadows.

“Just set it on fire,” Bush said into his cell phone, “Whenever I don’t understand anything, I set it on fire.”
“What are you doing?” Scott McClellan asked.
“I’m just giving my daughter Barbara advice,” Bush answered.
“Jenna!” Jenna shouted through the phone.
“Hey, I get you two confused; you’re twins,” Bush said.
There was an audible groan through the phone and then a dial tone. “She hung up,” Bush stated as he put the phone away. “So do I look like a hippy? I have the tie dye t-shirt and fruity colored glasses and everything.”
“You’re wearing khakis,” Scott pointed out.
“I always said I should have paid more attention to what kind of pants hippies wear,” Bush said, shaking his head.
“So is this rainbow dye going to wash out of my hair,” Scott asked while scratching his scalp.
“What am I? A hairatoligist?”
“You know, I do have useful things to be doing,” Scott stated angrily, “If you just appreciated how hard those press conference are to give, you wouldn’t be taking me on your misadventures.”
“First, until something goes wrong, this is just an adventure,” Bush corrected him, “Second, I have a great replacement for you today to do the press conference.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Who is it this time?”
“It’s not a who,” Bush said, “but I got one of the smartest animals that isn’t a human.”

“Isn’t that dolphin going to die if someone doesn’t put him back in a tank,” a reporter asked.
“Hey, he’s weak and weary,” answered another reporter, rubbing his hands together greedily, “Maybe we can trick a straight answer out of him.”

“So what meeting are we infiltrating?” Scott asked.
“Nader is speaking at a group who protests world trade and corporate expansion,” Bush told him, “They’re called “Progressives Against Progress”. Now let’s get inside.”
They both entered the auditorium and were soon inundated with the pungent smell of hippies. “If you need to vomit,” Bush whispered to Scott, “Cover it up by saying you had some bad weed.”
“I don’t know about this Nader,” said one hippy to another, “He’s just going to make Bush win again, and Bush is bad.”
“But the Democrats are just like me, dudes,” Bush interjected, and then Scott nudged him. “I mean like Bush… dudes. Both Kerry and Edwards voted for the war like Bush, and they like oil same as Bush and… uh… they wear ties.”
“You make some great points,” one of the hippies stated, “What’s your name?”
“I’m… uh… Moonshine,” Bush answered, “and my friend here is… uh… T-Bone… wait, that’s a gansta name, not a hippy name… I mean his name is Tubby McGee.”
“Tubby McGee!” Scott exclaimed.
“You and Tubby are two smart dudes,” said another hippy.
“This is true,” Bush answered, “We smoke lots of things that make us smart. Right, Tubby.”
“Yep. Lots of smoking,” Scott answered.
“So tell all your buddies that Democrats are just as bad as the Republicans and to vote for Nader,” Bush stated.
“Will do, Moonshine!” the hippies answered.
“Wow,” Scott whispered, “I’m amazed to find people dumber than you.”
“It is amazing!” Bush exclaimed, “And I’m playing them all for saps!”
Soon everyone hushed up as Nader came on the stage. “Corporations!” he yelled, “The Democrats and Republicans are owned by corporations! Bush is nothing but a living, breathing corporation!”
“Preach it, brother!” Bush shouted.
“Corporations!” Nader shouted, “I went into a McDonalds the other day… ends up it was a corporation!”
The audience gasped.
“Man, all this talk about corporations is reminding me I need to check on my stock portfolio,” Bush said to Scott as he took out his cell phone, “I’m glad I got that stock market working again.”
“Hey, cell phones are made by corporations!” Nader shouted as he pointed at Bush.
“Quiet!” Bush answered, “I’m checking my stocks.”
“Stocks are tools of corporations!” Nader shouted. He then looked more closely at Bush. “You look familiar.”
A hippy pulled the fruity colored glasses off of Bush. “It’s Bush!” they all shouted.
“Corporations in disguise!” Nader shouted as he pointed at Bush and Scott. “Get them before they corporate!”
The hippies surrounded Bush and Scott. “You’ll never catch me with my corporation made jetpack!” Bush laughed as he blasted off through the skylight. “Muh ha ha ha!”
“I didn’t get a jetpack,” Scott said as he watched Bush fly away. He then saw all the angry hippies around him and began to cower. After a moment of thought, though, he asked, “Wait? What do angry hippies do? Throw tofu at me?”
“And hommus.”
“Eep.”