Hear the fabulous exploits of one complete reject
This is a meanspirited political comentary with all the subtlety of a bag of doorknobs.
But just as Dick parted those lips to let loose a burst of inspiration and command, a loud crash came from the hallway outside the cabinet room. All eyes turned to the double-paned glass doors that closed out the rest of the building from this tight little enclave of genius. Another clatter came from outside. Dick blanched as he realized just what was happening. He left the comfy confines of the chair at the head of the table and moved to the door.
In the hall, a mid-sized man with a monkey-like brow, high cheek-bones, and a cherry-red nose stood wobbling on his heels. The man stared blankly at the plain white wall in front of him. His neatly cut hair was now mussed and tangled. After a breif moment which Dick took to be a period of cerebral readjustment, the confused man stepped quickly forward, slamming his face into the wall. The loud thwack splat of his face hitting the wall resounded down the hallways and into the cabinet room.
Dick sighed again, this time out of pure frustration. He moved toward the man, who was once again staring at the wall with a dazed and confused look in his eye. Dick parted his lips and emmited his first words of the afternoon.
"Mr. President... please, we're all waiting."
Dick placed his hands firmly on the shoulders of the befuddled president and guided him gingerly away from the wall. Bush looked disapointed. In a throaty tone, he cursed at the wall. When Dick was pushing him through the door, George was trying to break free of his grasp. One look at the people assembled in the cabinet room, however, shot a bolt of responsibility through his spine. Dick smiled ceremoniously at the assembled heads of state and ushered the young president to the head of the table. Once more Dick sighed as he positioned the rosey-faced leader in the chair he had so long desired to claim his own.
Dick left George at the head of the table and went to his own chair at Bush's side. As soon as he was seated, George stood and began to move his lips violently and without purpose. Dick stood, smiled at the assembled crowd and leaned over to whisper in his compatriate's ear. George's face went white, then he smirked and let out a hissing laughter, wincing his eyes and looking like a guilty school boy. When Dick sat back down, George began to speak to his assembled cabinet.
"Turnips! Fumbledegrugagledyfibbledyjibbledy! Acid cards are in my toe socks for penis!"
Blank stares surrounded him. Dick hung his head, half out of shame, and half because he had dropped pencil. It had been well over 5 months since they took office, and he was getting used to George's nonsensical banter.
"I like cheese! Anyone want tumble-down ruffle poopers?"
This was Dick's queue. He rose and placed a hand of George's padded shoulder. "Thank you Mr. President. I'm sure we all agree, don't we gentlemen." Christine coughed audibly and eyed Elaine. "Oh, and ladies. Sorry babe." Dick winked, shot the two a finger-gun and a clicking sound from the back of his throat.
Bush piped in "Nice asses!"
Dick used what remained of his strength to force George back into his seat. "Now then, I think you all know why I've... er... Mr. President has called you here today. As you may or may not know, the McCain-Feingold bill just passed the senate. We're all in deep shit here folks." George reached across the center of the table and snatched a banana from the fruit bowl. Dick smiled, knowing George would be occupied for a while with the confusing yellow object. "If this bill passes we could all become very poor very quickly. Now, I've been preping Georgie here for a week now, coaching him on what he needs to say to the press at this afternoon's conference. I know a few of you aren't terribly confident in George's brain," Dick shot a glance across the table at Paul O'neill. Paul squirmed in his chair and pretended to look out the window.
Dick continued "but myself and Condoleezza have devised an ingenius plan to insure that our fearless leader," the entire room glanced at George who was currently eating his banana, peel and all. All eyes returned to Cheney. "As you may or may not know, last night myself and Mr. Card took Georgie to Grafixx Tatoo and Piercing over on G street. We had his chin pierced and a small silver ring placed in the hole. Now George," Dick looked down at the now banana-covered president, "would you mind standing up for a second?"
George looked whistfully out the window, gave Dick a pouting face, and finally stood, huffing a sigh through his lips. Dick pulled out a pair of latex surgical gloves, slipped them on, and placed a finger under George's chin. He raised the finger, forcing Bush's chin and face up towards the ceiling. George smiled and waved "Hello ceiling!" A shiny metal ring was now visible jutting from underneath George's neck-folds.
Dick kept his finger on the President's neck and puled a thin piece of fishing line from his pocket. He thredded the line through the ring and tied a tight knot to keep it in place. Dick removed his finger and leaned back, looking under the table. "Now then, Gale, would you mind holding off on that for a moment and helping us out here?" Across the table, Spence abraham's fat face turned downcast. Gale Norton's blond head came out from under the table and was soon acompanied by a thin white arm. She grabbed the free end of the line and went back under the table. Dick smiled and rolled his daily breifing papers into a cone-shape. Cheney placed the brief's to his lips, kicked a foot under the table, and began to speak in a southern twang. "I am a complete fucking moron." he said. As he spoke, Gale pulled the string roughly in time with the words, causing Bush's mouth to open and close in a vaguely speech-like pattern.
A smattering of applause came from the assembled staff. Colin raised his hand and shot Dick a quizitive look. He rose and began to speak. "That didn't really look like he was talking. Wouldn't it be easier to put peanut butter on his gums?" Dick wanted desperately to have Colin lynched for his disidence, but staied his anger with the comforting thought of his secratary who was currently drafting a new revision of his Jim Crow bill.
Christine spoke next "And you do a lousey impression of him. Can't we get someone better? What's Rich Little doing these days?"
George raised his hand next, a thin stream of drool careening down his cheek "Can I go potty?" Dick sighed and untied the line from the president's neck. "Yes you can go potty. Who's turn is it?" The room roiled with sighs and murmurs. Gradually, all eyes fell on Tony Principi. Tony looked at his suit jacket, pretending to play with a button. It took a menacing throat clear from Dick to roust the scretary of Veteran's Affairs from his seat. "Alright," Tony said begrudgingly "but I'm not holding your pee-pee this time George!"
Tony led Bush from the cabinet room. Dick immediately lept up and claimed George's chair, smiling widely and leaning back against the fine springs and gears that kept the seat in place.
"Alright, look. I spent about six hours with George on Sunday trying to get him to memorize his 'I will veto campaign reform' speech. But it's completely hopeless. He sure knows how to say veto, but that's about it. In fact, I don't even think he know's what veto means. Later that night I caught him naked in the bathroom writing veto on his thigh with a red sharpie. He even used a seperate sharpie for each letter. He's getting worse, I tell you. The chin-piercing is the only choice I have... we have right now. He's not even responding to the invisible fence collar anymore."
George came back into the room now, smiling like a retarded janitor. Dick looked at him. "Where's Tony?"
"I like oil! Oil good! Environment bad!" Dick slapped his forehead. Naturally, Bush only remembered this phrase now, three weeks after he had originally tried to teach it to him.
"Oh, forget it," Dick sat back in his own chair and pulled George down into the head seat. "OK, our chief business now is deciding who's going under the podium to work the string. I'm pulling rank here. Besides, I can't fit under there anyway."
The room milled and fluttered with disapproval. Colin looked extremely upset. Only Spence remained smiling, his eyes drooping down towards his crotch every few moments.
Dick stood and slammed a fist into the table. "Look folks! We've got to stick together on this! Either we kill this McCain-Feingold bill now or we're all doomed!"
Don Rumsfeld stood and responded "Can't we just have those two offed? I mean, one's a jew! No one would think twice about a dead jew in congress!" A few agreeing tones came from the assembly.
Dick looked down and responded solemnly "Don't you think I've tried that? McCain's a bitch to deal with. He knows 50 ways to kill a man with a stapler. We had some of the fellows over at Lockheed design a modular shower-zyclon injection system to be installed at their homes, but McCain found one of our men and twisted him into the shape of a pretzel. And Feingold's a freakin' kyke! They don't shower!"
The room muttered in agreement. "Look, our only safe bet is to veto the bill and send the boys from Microsoft over to the House to have a 'talk' with any disidents. If that doesn't work, I don't know what will."
Dick wiped his brow with a puffy liver-spotted hand. He looked down at the monkey-like form of the president. He sighed heavily and looked at Mel Martinez. "Mel, you're under the podium. Colin, you get to play Bush's voice. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got 6 dead hookers to deal with." He turned on his heels and headed out the door. At this rate, he'd never get to have that chair.
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