“As going with Iraqi law, I am once again offering everyone a pretrial mint,” the judge said. The bailiff then walked around the audience with a bowl of mints. “Since we’re still waiting on the results of the vote on the Constitution and we don’t have any other rules about trials other than the mints, I’ll just play this by ear. If you don’t like how I’m running things, there’s a suggestion box in the back. Once everyone is done consuming his or her mint, we shall start again for the day on the trial of Saddam Hussein.”
Former President George Bush Sr. took the stand. “Saddam tried to have me killed. That was not prudent.”
“He tried to kill my daddy!” Dubya yelled, jumping to his feet and pointing to the slightly perturbed looking Saddam. “He’s a bad man!”
The judge used an air horn to restore silence. “There will be no jumping and shouting in my courtroom… except on casual court rules Fridays.”
Laura urged Dubya back into his seat.
“Isn’t it true that you fought against Iraq’s military and then imposed sanctions against his country?” Saddam’s lawyer questioned the elder Bush.
“Yes, but we’re America; what’s wrong with that?”
“They agitated me into invading Kuwait,” Saddam said mournfully, “All I really wanted was a basket full of kittens, but the means Americans couldn’t let me be a dictator in peace!”
“If you’re going to interrupt, Saddam,” the judge warned, “then I’m going to let someone from the other side interrupt for balance.” He pointed to Dubya.
Dubya sprung to his feet and held his wooden chair in the air. “You’re a bad man, and I’m going to beat you to death with this chair!”
The judge blew his air horn again. “There will be no chair fights in my courtroom! If you are going to beat Saddam to death, you take it outside!”
“But it’s hot out there!” Dubya complained as Laura put him back in his seat.
Dubya took the stand next. “So, Mr. American President,” said Saddam’s lawyer, “what were you thinking when you nominated Harriet Miers for the Supreme Court?”
“I don’t think that’s relevant,” Dubya answered.
“Please answer the questions,” the judge said, “I’m curious about that one.”
“Me too,” said the prosecutor.
“Yeah, what the hell were you thinking, son?” Bush Sr. asked.
“This coming from the guy who appointed Souter?” Dubya shot back.
The bailiff whispered to the judge. “Apparently a new law on courtroom procedures have been passed,” the judge said, “We are supposed to have a break for beverages every ten minutes. Your choice of beverages will be coffee, tea, or Clamato.”
As everyone went for refreshments, Dubya found himself face to face with Saddam. “You gassed those Kurds!” Dubya yelled, “You’re going to get executed for that! I hope you get the gas chamber so you’ll know what it feels like to be in a chamber!”
“Bah, American pig-dog!” Saddam answered, “You’ll never convict me! My lawyer is Jewish!”
“It’s true,” said Saddam’s lawyer, “I celebrate the Sabbath on Saturday.”
“What religion is the prosecutor?” Dubya whispered to Laura.
“Buddhist.”
“Guilt and innocence are but a state of mind,” said the prosecutor.
“Dagnabbit!” Dubya shouted.
Suddenly, Saddam made a dash for the door. “He’s getting away!” yelled the bailiff, sipping his Clamato.
George Bush Sr. and younger pursued. Outside, Saddam jumped into the passenger side of a white Ford Bronco which then began to drive off. They got a glance of the driver, though: Zarqawi!
“I knew they were in cahoots!” Dubya exclaimed, “And now they’re getting away at a speed near 35 mph. It’s time for a low speed chase!”
Bush Sr. stared at leaving vehicle. “A Ford Bronco? They still make those?”
TO BE CONTINUED…