(Written for 2006 CRican elections)
Escuálida participación de liberacionistas
se asomó a apoyar su Fuhrer en el Paseo Colón,
Es evidente que el domingo 5 en las urnas
Tiquicia no comerá cuento y orgullosa clamará: ¡Ottón!
Con un domingo 7, nuestra Constitución quiere corroer
Del chorizo, engaño y manipulación, estandarte fiel
Si con su "Muchas Gracias" a la presidencia llegó Abel
con un salacuartazo indigno, Arias nunca obtendrá el poder
Si Costa Rica nuevamente le diera su confianza
sálvenos Dios de espeluznante viaje en montaña rusa
Pues quien en bandeja de plata recibió su crianza
con el TLC, servida le daría la mesa a USA
El barco necesita diestro capitán
que hacia próspero norte le dirija
No faraón con brújula carente de imán
que insolente rehúse que la ley lo rija
Con Nixon, los del Norte tuvieron su Watergate
Con el bipartidismo, Tiquicia su Chorigate
Si al fin has aprendido la cruda lección
El 5 salí a votar y elegí la nueva opción
Y recuerda lo que dijera el poeta:
Verde que no te quiero verde
como la todopoderosa lapa verde
Si el gobierno verde sería
La patria jamás verdecería
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Political Parodies. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Political Parodies. Mostrar todas las entradas
viernes, 26 de julio de 2024
Choricálogo de gobernabilidad
(Written prior to 2006 Crican elections)
Tras violentar la Constitución y emerger como "legítimo" candidato del Partido Neoliberal, Ó$carAria$ decide escalar el Chirripó para reflexionar acerca de su plan de gobierno. Dicho y hecho, guarda en su mochila un retrato autografiado de su mentor ideológico, George Bu$h, y emprende la marcha...
Dos llamadas satelitales (AT&T) al 911 después, ya en La cima del Chirripó, una decrépita figura toma forma, su languideciente rostro opacado por sus protuberantes orejas. Mientras se quita la mascarilla de oxígeno, percibe no estar sólo...como si una etérea Entidad le acompañase. Intrigado, exclama: "¿Margarita eres tú?"
Silencio. Una sinfonía de relámpagos se dibuja en los vientos. Los cielos se nublan. Firme y grave, autoritaria y señorial --pero cálida y comprensiva a la vez-- una voz se hace distinguir, aparentemente proveniente de la Nada...
--Voz Celestial: Acaso no reconoces a Aquél que inspiró tu vida, hijo mío?
--Aria$: ¿Eres tú,John D. Rockefeller, sagrado maestro del capitalismo inescrupuloso?
--Voz: No, mi siniestro vástago. Soy Aquél portador de la Verdad...
--Aria$: ¿Joseph Goebbels, amo y señor de la retórica, demagogia y manipulación de las masas? Es un privilegio...
--Voz: ¡NO! Soy Aquel que envió a su Hijo para redimir a la Humanidad...
--Aria$: Ah, Tatica Dios! ¿Qué mae? ¿Cómo va todo? Yo aquí tratado de arreglar el despiche en el que me están entregando a mi amada Costa Rica...
--Voz: Ajá. Sí, claro,y Saprissa es realmente el 3er mejor equipo de futbol del mundo! Pero sí he de decir que he derramado lágrimas de sangre al observar la Choricracia que bajo la tácita venia del bipartidismo ha sacrificado los intereses de mi Pueblo Elegido en favor del suyo propio y, no contento con esto, pretende ahora despojarlos y esclavizarlos bajo el inclemente látigo mercenario del Norte.
--Aria$: LLevala suave Yavecito. Si mis compas y yo vamos a arreglar la jugada...
--Voz: Es por eso que estás aquí. Tomá nota, voy a dictarte los 10 mandamientos fundamentales con base en los cuales enrumbarás a Costa Rica a través del sendero de la equidad social y hacia la prosperidad en conmemoración de su bicentenario.
(Aria$ abre su laptop, carga Window$ y se frota siniestramente las manos mientras observa su protector de pantalla de Mr. Burns)
--Voz: Número 1: Amarás a Dios sobre todas las cosas.
--Aria$: ¡Tuanis mi tata! Como tributo a tu alma, diré a los compas de AT$T, MCI, Sprint, Verizon, Vodafone, France Telecom, (...), que en todos los celulares pongan como ringtone la versión gospel del Holy Father. ¿Cómo la vio?
--Voz: Número 2: No tomarás el Nombre de Dios en vano.
--Aria$: Of course que no. Juro sobre lo más sagrado para mí, la Constitución Política --¡la Carta Magna que rige mi patria!--, que jamás usaré tu nombre en vano.
--Voz: Número 3: Santificarás las fiestas.
--Aria$: Listo. Ahora que le venda Fanal a la Budweiser, firmaré un contrato de exclusividad con la Iglesia para proveerla de Cacique. En honor tuyo, Cacique Supremo, santificaremos la fiesta eclesiástica consagrando la ostia con Cacique en lugar de vino. Nombres, si yo soy toa, lleno de ideas frescas para mi adorada Tiqui$ia.
--Voz: Número 4: Honrarás a tu padre y a tu madre.
--Aria$: ¡Que si qué! Si ellos me legaron Heredia. En honor a ellos a mis hijos les heredaré Costa Rica entera. Cómo le quedó el ojo, Jehovah?
--Voz: Número 5: No matarás.
--Aria$: Porsu que no, ni que fuera Chema...
--Voz: Número 6: No cometerás actos impuros.
--Aria$: ¿El masturbarme con Ricky Martin es un acto impuro?
--Voz: Número 7: No robarás.
--Aria$: Daaa! Dios, no sea maje! Si para eso estoy pasando el TLC: Para legitimar todos mis chorizos! Ahora todo el huevo que me aflojen las multinacionales será avalado por la ley. Pero qué creyó Diosemix, si yo estoy siempre un paso adelante. Ni que fuera tan sorompo como el sopetas de Chema. A mí nadie me pesca. Si estás hablando con el Papá de los Tomates.
--Voz: Número 8: No dirás falso testimonio ni mentirás.
--Aria$: Yo, ¿mentir? Sobretodo que soy como el pinochex de Calderón. Yo me cubro el trasero. Si para eso compré las encuestas, para que sean OTROS los que digan que el pueblo me quiere en la presidencia. Para eso están los lacayos, para que mientan por mí. Que se coman ellos la bronca. Soy o no soy un galleta?
--Voz: Número 9: No consentirás pensamientos ni deseos impuros.
--Aria$: Tuanis. Dejaré de visitar e-bay en busca de la tanga autografiada de Chayanne.
--Voz: Número 10: No codiciarás los bienes ajenos.
--Aria$: Aro que no. Si ya tengo casi todo. Ingenio Taboga, Monumental, Grupo Sama... Con el poder de los medios a mi merced, convenceré al pueblo de apoyar el TLC para así apropiarme de todo lo que AÚN no tengo. Como ya dije, estoy en todas: No ves que no puedo codiciar bienes ajenos si YO soy dueño de TODO. Buajajajajajaja!!!!!! Show me the money!!!!!
Resignado, la sublime voz de Dios se disipa en las telarañas de lo infinito, reverberando únicamente el eco de sus últimos pronunciamientos:
--Dios: Sigh! Este es un caso perdido. Espero que mis queridos hijos costarricenses utilicen sabiamente el libre albedrío que les he ofrendado para salir TODOS a votar, e impedirle al Imperio de las Tinieblas --presidido por esta oveja descarriada-- el que dracúleamente les succione sus anhelos de un horizonte de progreso donde reine la equidad social y la prosperidad sea justamente compartida por todos.
A medida que estas sabias palabras se dispersaban por los aires, los cielos se aclararon, el sol emergió portentoso, los pájaros trinaron, el verdor de los árboles se intensificó...Acaso este bello paisaje alegoriza un horizonte de porvenir? Hay aún tiempo de escapar el destino manifiesto que las plutócratas élites pretenden imponerle al pueblo?
El 5 de febrero, no nos EMBARQUEMOS con un capitán del neoliberalismo y el capitalismo sanguinario. ¡NUNCA! En su lugar, salí a votar y exclamemos todos al unísono: ¡SÍ, Costa Rica!
Tras violentar la Constitución y emerger como "legítimo" candidato del Partido Neoliberal, Ó$carAria$ decide escalar el Chirripó para reflexionar acerca de su plan de gobierno. Dicho y hecho, guarda en su mochila un retrato autografiado de su mentor ideológico, George Bu$h, y emprende la marcha...
Dos llamadas satelitales (AT&T) al 911 después, ya en La cima del Chirripó, una decrépita figura toma forma, su languideciente rostro opacado por sus protuberantes orejas. Mientras se quita la mascarilla de oxígeno, percibe no estar sólo...como si una etérea Entidad le acompañase. Intrigado, exclama: "¿Margarita eres tú?"
Silencio. Una sinfonía de relámpagos se dibuja en los vientos. Los cielos se nublan. Firme y grave, autoritaria y señorial --pero cálida y comprensiva a la vez-- una voz se hace distinguir, aparentemente proveniente de la Nada...
--Voz Celestial: Acaso no reconoces a Aquél que inspiró tu vida, hijo mío?
--Aria$: ¿Eres tú,John D. Rockefeller, sagrado maestro del capitalismo inescrupuloso?
--Voz: No, mi siniestro vástago. Soy Aquél portador de la Verdad...
--Aria$: ¿Joseph Goebbels, amo y señor de la retórica, demagogia y manipulación de las masas? Es un privilegio...
--Voz: ¡NO! Soy Aquel que envió a su Hijo para redimir a la Humanidad...
--Aria$: Ah, Tatica Dios! ¿Qué mae? ¿Cómo va todo? Yo aquí tratado de arreglar el despiche en el que me están entregando a mi amada Costa Rica...
--Voz: Ajá. Sí, claro,y Saprissa es realmente el 3er mejor equipo de futbol del mundo! Pero sí he de decir que he derramado lágrimas de sangre al observar la Choricracia que bajo la tácita venia del bipartidismo ha sacrificado los intereses de mi Pueblo Elegido en favor del suyo propio y, no contento con esto, pretende ahora despojarlos y esclavizarlos bajo el inclemente látigo mercenario del Norte.
--Aria$: LLevala suave Yavecito. Si mis compas y yo vamos a arreglar la jugada...
--Voz: Es por eso que estás aquí. Tomá nota, voy a dictarte los 10 mandamientos fundamentales con base en los cuales enrumbarás a Costa Rica a través del sendero de la equidad social y hacia la prosperidad en conmemoración de su bicentenario.
(Aria$ abre su laptop, carga Window$ y se frota siniestramente las manos mientras observa su protector de pantalla de Mr. Burns)
--Voz: Número 1: Amarás a Dios sobre todas las cosas.
--Aria$: ¡Tuanis mi tata! Como tributo a tu alma, diré a los compas de AT$T, MCI, Sprint, Verizon, Vodafone, France Telecom, (...), que en todos los celulares pongan como ringtone la versión gospel del Holy Father. ¿Cómo la vio?
--Voz: Número 2: No tomarás el Nombre de Dios en vano.
--Aria$: Of course que no. Juro sobre lo más sagrado para mí, la Constitución Política --¡la Carta Magna que rige mi patria!--, que jamás usaré tu nombre en vano.
--Voz: Número 3: Santificarás las fiestas.
--Aria$: Listo. Ahora que le venda Fanal a la Budweiser, firmaré un contrato de exclusividad con la Iglesia para proveerla de Cacique. En honor tuyo, Cacique Supremo, santificaremos la fiesta eclesiástica consagrando la ostia con Cacique en lugar de vino. Nombres, si yo soy toa, lleno de ideas frescas para mi adorada Tiqui$ia.
--Voz: Número 4: Honrarás a tu padre y a tu madre.
--Aria$: ¡Que si qué! Si ellos me legaron Heredia. En honor a ellos a mis hijos les heredaré Costa Rica entera. Cómo le quedó el ojo, Jehovah?
--Voz: Número 5: No matarás.
--Aria$: Porsu que no, ni que fuera Chema...
--Voz: Número 6: No cometerás actos impuros.
--Aria$: ¿El masturbarme con Ricky Martin es un acto impuro?
--Voz: Número 7: No robarás.
--Aria$: Daaa! Dios, no sea maje! Si para eso estoy pasando el TLC: Para legitimar todos mis chorizos! Ahora todo el huevo que me aflojen las multinacionales será avalado por la ley. Pero qué creyó Diosemix, si yo estoy siempre un paso adelante. Ni que fuera tan sorompo como el sopetas de Chema. A mí nadie me pesca. Si estás hablando con el Papá de los Tomates.
--Voz: Número 8: No dirás falso testimonio ni mentirás.
--Aria$: Yo, ¿mentir? Sobretodo que soy como el pinochex de Calderón. Yo me cubro el trasero. Si para eso compré las encuestas, para que sean OTROS los que digan que el pueblo me quiere en la presidencia. Para eso están los lacayos, para que mientan por mí. Que se coman ellos la bronca. Soy o no soy un galleta?
--Voz: Número 9: No consentirás pensamientos ni deseos impuros.
--Aria$: Tuanis. Dejaré de visitar e-bay en busca de la tanga autografiada de Chayanne.
--Voz: Número 10: No codiciarás los bienes ajenos.
--Aria$: Aro que no. Si ya tengo casi todo. Ingenio Taboga, Monumental, Grupo Sama... Con el poder de los medios a mi merced, convenceré al pueblo de apoyar el TLC para así apropiarme de todo lo que AÚN no tengo. Como ya dije, estoy en todas: No ves que no puedo codiciar bienes ajenos si YO soy dueño de TODO. Buajajajajajaja!!!!!! Show me the money!!!!!
Resignado, la sublime voz de Dios se disipa en las telarañas de lo infinito, reverberando únicamente el eco de sus últimos pronunciamientos:
--Dios: Sigh! Este es un caso perdido. Espero que mis queridos hijos costarricenses utilicen sabiamente el libre albedrío que les he ofrendado para salir TODOS a votar, e impedirle al Imperio de las Tinieblas --presidido por esta oveja descarriada-- el que dracúleamente les succione sus anhelos de un horizonte de progreso donde reine la equidad social y la prosperidad sea justamente compartida por todos.
A medida que estas sabias palabras se dispersaban por los aires, los cielos se aclararon, el sol emergió portentoso, los pájaros trinaron, el verdor de los árboles se intensificó...Acaso este bello paisaje alegoriza un horizonte de porvenir? Hay aún tiempo de escapar el destino manifiesto que las plutócratas élites pretenden imponerle al pueblo?
El 5 de febrero, no nos EMBARQUEMOS con un capitán del neoliberalismo y el capitalismo sanguinario. ¡NUNCA! En su lugar, salí a votar y exclamemos todos al unísono: ¡SÍ, Costa Rica!
jueves, 11 de febrero de 2010
The Finlandian Connection Reloaded.
Over a year after Iraq’s peace mission began:
--Bush: So, Donnie, have we found those Weapons of Mass Destruction yet?
--Donald Rumsfeld: Ah, George, I have told you a 1,000 times. There are no WMDs: They were a McGuffin.
--Bush: An Egg McMuffin? Is that military parlance for “let’s open a McDonald’s franchise in Iraq”?
--Dick Cheney: Sigh! Nope, Georgie boy. We are continuing to stay the course towards a Halliburton franchise. Scratch McDonald’s. And, by the way, a McGuffin is something convenient used in a movie to advance the plot while serving no real purpose within the story. Haven’t you watched any Hitchcock?
--Bush: And that’s related to WMDs how...?
--Rumsfeld: Sir, remember the meetings in the war room? The WMDs never existed; they were a McGuffin: A ploy to deceive the American Public and deviate attention from our real objective, getting control of Iraq’s oil.
--Bush: So that’s what was behind those weapons of mass DIVERSION jokes? I get it now: We used the weapons as a false pretense to divert attention from our imperialistic aims. Brilliant!
--Cheney: Ahem, Yes, well, I must admit it was a masterfully orchestrated plan. I love when a plan comes together!
--Bush: I meant the JOKE was brilliant.
-Cheney: Sigh!
--Rumsfeld: Anyway, sir, now the truth is out and we must cover our tracks if we want to get you re-elected.
--Bush: But how we do that? People aren’t stupid, you know. Wait, I got an idea.
--Rumsfeld: Let's hear it, sir.
--Bush: Let’s send a convoy of planes against the Sears Tower, the Lincoln Memorial and Disneyland. That should scare the populace and reinforce my iconic status as fearless leader whose resolve shall lead us through these dark times.
--Rumsfeld: Ahem. Sir, I was thinking about something subtler. More along the lines of perhaps planting the weapons so it actually appears that the Iraq campaign was an actual decisive move to placate a clear and present danger against our great nation.
--Bush: But who could coordinate such a masterful scheme of deception? I think I should phone my brother. He did such a wonderful job with the 2000 elections...
*Jeb Bush’s phone rings*
--JB: Hello? Georgie, is that you? It has been almost four years since your last call. How is everything in the Oval Office?
--Bush: Well, not as windy as in Florida, but a bit rough nonetheless.
--JB: Tell me about it. These damn hurricanes! A butterfly flaps its wings in Peking and I get thousands of welfare cases to deal with over here! But I digress, you have some sort of trouble in your hands?
--Bush: It’s those Egg McMuffins once again. It seems people do not trust me anymore and we might need to recur to your helping us with the Florida ballots yet one more time…
*Rumsfeld approaches the Prez; talks to him in the ear*
--Rumsfeld: Sir, it’s a McGuffin, not Egg McMuffin...Either way, what we need is not electoral fraud, but rather create the illusion that WMDs actually exist and are located in Iraqi soil.
--Bush: Heard that Jeb? Any insights?
--JB: Actually, I was talking with some Costa Rican lobbyists the other night. It appears a group called "The Ex-Presidents" has been for several years diverting public funds into their own pockets, veiling their frauds under pretenses such as buying unnecessary medical equipment and pocketing hefty commissions for structuring the deals and cooking the books. Seems like these are the right people for the task at hand.
--Bush: Great suggestion, bro. If they engineered that, cleaning up our mess should be kiddie play. I knew you would come through for me once again.
--Cheney: Fine. Colin, get immediately in touch with your people in Costa Rica. Bring me
the government officials involved in this Machiavellian plotting. And while you’re at that, see to it that we privatize their oil fields. Fooled you! There’s no oil in Costa Rica, dumbass. I kill myself!
--Colin Powell: Yes sir, quite amusing, your wit. I shall commence with the preparations.
--Cheney: Please do. Ashcroft? Were’s that faggot when one needs him?
*Attorney General John Ashcroft abruptly enters the room*
--Ashcroft: I’m sorry sir. I have been too busy issuing detention warrants and imprisoning illegal combatants.
--Cheney: Yeah, yeah. Quit toying with that Patriot Act of yours and use it for something meaningful. Get busy raising our fear status to “Ridiculously High Terrorism Alert” and forming a Joint Congressional Committee to approve $100 million budget for counter-terrorism defense. We are calling this operation “The Finlandian Connection Reloaded." And where in the name of those deliberately-high-oil-consuming SUV’s name is the president?
--Bush: Crap! Just lost another game of tic-tac-toe over the Internet!
--Cheney: Sigh! Let it go. We’ll send a hit squad to dispose of the kid that beat you. Ashcroft, declare it a threat to National Security to beat the President at tic-tac-toe. And you, Georgie boy, zip your mouth while we orchestrate this dastardly evil plan.
*One day later, at Washington DC’s Dulles International Airport*
--Powell: Mr. Vicepresident, may I introduce you to our Costa Rican associates: Eliseo Vargas, Walter Reiche, Rafael Ángel Calderón and Miguel Ángel Rodríguez.
--Cheney: They could call themselves Hannibal, Face, Baracus and Murdock and go by the alias of The A-Team for all I care. I don’t need names. I seek a credible strategy to mislead the gullible American citizens until the elections. So, what do you have for me, you Costa Rican schmucks?
Calderón: Sir, what we was planiating is a artificial prestamation of…
Cheney: For Christ’s sake, can’t this dope speak any English? As if I didn’t have enough trouble already trying to understand my funny-speaking Arab business partners!
*Diplomatic Translator is called. Calderón proceeds*
--Calderón: Yes, well, as I was saying sir, we have devised a master stratagem: It’s already arranged for our National Legislative Assembly to approve acquiring a governmental debt destined to buy medical equipment which would be provided as humanitarian aid to Iraq, whereupon…
--Cheney: Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Your pitiful country backed-down from our “Coalition of the Willing” crap. Why should your Congress approve any Iraq relief package?
--Calderón: Therein resides the brilliance of my plan. Michael Moore stated in his documentary “Fahrenheit 911” that we are members of the coalition. If it’s in the movie...
--Cheney:...it must be true! You are not as dumb as I thought, Cyrano. Even though your constant pointing of your nose at me is exasperating, your plan seems worth the time. Go on, how does buying the medical equipment translate into procuring phantom weapons?
--Calderón: There, precisely, lies the brilliant stroke. There’s no need for the weapons to actually exist. We simply pick a random country—say Krakozhia—to lend us the funds. The loan is set up as a government initiative to subsidize their lagging health industry exports. A dummy Krakozhian corporation, Gepetto’s Workshop, has already been chartered to act as the seller of the purported medical equipment. Mr. Reiche over here has agreed to arrange for his company, Fischel Corp, to serve as technical consultant for the deal. Here’s his recommendation indicating to Mr. Eliseo Vargas --who runs our state-owned health-care monopoly--that our beloved CCSS, founded by my father if I may add...
--Cheney: You are sacking your father’s legacy to your country? That’s evil, man. My respect for your nose, I mean, for you, has suddenly risen. But I ramble, please go on...
--Calderón. Well, as I was explaining, we then proceed with the “buying” of the made-belief equipment. We donate it to Iraq, and you follow suit proclaiming their WMDs have been found. We will take care of the equipment acquisition paperwork--loan agreement, dummy invoices, bills of lading, electronic money transfer slips, Customs papers demonstrating equipment delivery to Iraq, phony photographs, the whole 9 yards--, thus authenticating the use of the funds to Costa Rican regulatory authorities. Concurrently, you arrange for fake radar and thermal imaging of the weapons--pinpointing their location inside Iraq--as well as shipping manifestos from military subcontractors and point at the unofficial records--false phone call logs, terrorist contact’s names, message intercepts...--that will unequivocally evidence that the Costa Rican loan was a cover-up for what “really” took place: Us buying black market Krakozhian nukes and handing them over to Iraqi freedom fighters. By the time they figure out Krakozhia isn’t even a real country, and neither the weapons exist nor any sale ever took place...
--Cheney:...our president would have already been re-elected!
--Bush: Wait a second. Krakozhia isn’t a real country? So that’s why I couldn’t find it in the Atlas! Now I’m confused. Didn’t Tom Hanks’ character in that flick, “The Terminal,” come from a nation called Krakozhia?
--Calderón: See what I mean? If it’s in the movie...
--Cheney:...it must be true! That should buy us sufficient time until the truth is uncovered. Works for me, but I’m intrigued: what do you gain by all this? We accomplish our goal and emerge immaculately clean. Moreover, we swiftly demonstrate to the world our unparalleled skill at detecting and promptly stopping terrorist activity. But you will face certain imprisonment in your country and with no money to show for your efforts.
--Calderón: Well, not exactly. You will create a $5,000,000 expense account against your anti-terrorism budget. That will be our cut from the deal, let’s call it a “premio”, as we say back in CR...
*The 4 Costa Ricans laugh in unison*
--Calderón: Here’s the Panamanian account where the funds are to be deposited: Chorizo Holdings, account number: 12345666. As to the imprisonment, we fake illnesses to assure we get nothing more than house arrest in the exquisite comfort of our castle-like residences. Trust me, this plan can’t fail. Being there, done that.
--Cheney: And should the press dig something up and find enough evidence to trial and convict you in a REAL prison, we can simply annex CR as the 51st member of the American Union and appoint you as antiterrorism ambassadors or some made-up title of the sort.
--Calderón: It`s settled, then.
--Cheney: Yes, only one question lingers. I can see your role as deal coordinator and facilitator. Reiche and Vargas are the corrupt government officials. That’s pretty straightforward. But what’s that Rodriguez fellow’s place in all of this?
--Calderón: Nothing really. We just brought him to entertain your President so we could machinate in peace, without any of his obnoxious interferences.
*Bush is heard in the distance, intoning a rather excited remark to Miguel Ángel*
--Bush: Huh, beat you once again. I quite enjoy playing marbles with you!
--Calderón. See what I mean?
--Cheney: Sigh! It’s painfully clear.
--Calderón: Well, Dickie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship...
*Calderón and Cheney walk away together into the sunset*
--Bush: So, Donnie, have we found those Weapons of Mass Destruction yet?
--Donald Rumsfeld: Ah, George, I have told you a 1,000 times. There are no WMDs: They were a McGuffin.
--Bush: An Egg McMuffin? Is that military parlance for “let’s open a McDonald’s franchise in Iraq”?
--Dick Cheney: Sigh! Nope, Georgie boy. We are continuing to stay the course towards a Halliburton franchise. Scratch McDonald’s. And, by the way, a McGuffin is something convenient used in a movie to advance the plot while serving no real purpose within the story. Haven’t you watched any Hitchcock?
--Bush: And that’s related to WMDs how...?
--Rumsfeld: Sir, remember the meetings in the war room? The WMDs never existed; they were a McGuffin: A ploy to deceive the American Public and deviate attention from our real objective, getting control of Iraq’s oil.
--Bush: So that’s what was behind those weapons of mass DIVERSION jokes? I get it now: We used the weapons as a false pretense to divert attention from our imperialistic aims. Brilliant!
--Cheney: Ahem, Yes, well, I must admit it was a masterfully orchestrated plan. I love when a plan comes together!
--Bush: I meant the JOKE was brilliant.
-Cheney: Sigh!
--Rumsfeld: Anyway, sir, now the truth is out and we must cover our tracks if we want to get you re-elected.
--Bush: But how we do that? People aren’t stupid, you know. Wait, I got an idea.
--Rumsfeld: Let's hear it, sir.
--Bush: Let’s send a convoy of planes against the Sears Tower, the Lincoln Memorial and Disneyland. That should scare the populace and reinforce my iconic status as fearless leader whose resolve shall lead us through these dark times.
--Rumsfeld: Ahem. Sir, I was thinking about something subtler. More along the lines of perhaps planting the weapons so it actually appears that the Iraq campaign was an actual decisive move to placate a clear and present danger against our great nation.
--Bush: But who could coordinate such a masterful scheme of deception? I think I should phone my brother. He did such a wonderful job with the 2000 elections...
*Jeb Bush’s phone rings*
--JB: Hello? Georgie, is that you? It has been almost four years since your last call. How is everything in the Oval Office?
--Bush: Well, not as windy as in Florida, but a bit rough nonetheless.
--JB: Tell me about it. These damn hurricanes! A butterfly flaps its wings in Peking and I get thousands of welfare cases to deal with over here! But I digress, you have some sort of trouble in your hands?
--Bush: It’s those Egg McMuffins once again. It seems people do not trust me anymore and we might need to recur to your helping us with the Florida ballots yet one more time…
*Rumsfeld approaches the Prez; talks to him in the ear*
--Rumsfeld: Sir, it’s a McGuffin, not Egg McMuffin...Either way, what we need is not electoral fraud, but rather create the illusion that WMDs actually exist and are located in Iraqi soil.
--Bush: Heard that Jeb? Any insights?
--JB: Actually, I was talking with some Costa Rican lobbyists the other night. It appears a group called "The Ex-Presidents" has been for several years diverting public funds into their own pockets, veiling their frauds under pretenses such as buying unnecessary medical equipment and pocketing hefty commissions for structuring the deals and cooking the books. Seems like these are the right people for the task at hand.
--Bush: Great suggestion, bro. If they engineered that, cleaning up our mess should be kiddie play. I knew you would come through for me once again.
--Cheney: Fine. Colin, get immediately in touch with your people in Costa Rica. Bring me
the government officials involved in this Machiavellian plotting. And while you’re at that, see to it that we privatize their oil fields. Fooled you! There’s no oil in Costa Rica, dumbass. I kill myself!
--Colin Powell: Yes sir, quite amusing, your wit. I shall commence with the preparations.
--Cheney: Please do. Ashcroft? Were’s that faggot when one needs him?
*Attorney General John Ashcroft abruptly enters the room*
--Ashcroft: I’m sorry sir. I have been too busy issuing detention warrants and imprisoning illegal combatants.
--Cheney: Yeah, yeah. Quit toying with that Patriot Act of yours and use it for something meaningful. Get busy raising our fear status to “Ridiculously High Terrorism Alert” and forming a Joint Congressional Committee to approve $100 million budget for counter-terrorism defense. We are calling this operation “The Finlandian Connection Reloaded." And where in the name of those deliberately-high-oil-consuming SUV’s name is the president?
--Bush: Crap! Just lost another game of tic-tac-toe over the Internet!
--Cheney: Sigh! Let it go. We’ll send a hit squad to dispose of the kid that beat you. Ashcroft, declare it a threat to National Security to beat the President at tic-tac-toe. And you, Georgie boy, zip your mouth while we orchestrate this dastardly evil plan.
*One day later, at Washington DC’s Dulles International Airport*
--Powell: Mr. Vicepresident, may I introduce you to our Costa Rican associates: Eliseo Vargas, Walter Reiche, Rafael Ángel Calderón and Miguel Ángel Rodríguez.
--Cheney: They could call themselves Hannibal, Face, Baracus and Murdock and go by the alias of The A-Team for all I care. I don’t need names. I seek a credible strategy to mislead the gullible American citizens until the elections. So, what do you have for me, you Costa Rican schmucks?
Calderón: Sir, what we was planiating is a artificial prestamation of…
Cheney: For Christ’s sake, can’t this dope speak any English? As if I didn’t have enough trouble already trying to understand my funny-speaking Arab business partners!
*Diplomatic Translator is called. Calderón proceeds*
--Calderón: Yes, well, as I was saying sir, we have devised a master stratagem: It’s already arranged for our National Legislative Assembly to approve acquiring a governmental debt destined to buy medical equipment which would be provided as humanitarian aid to Iraq, whereupon…
--Cheney: Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Your pitiful country backed-down from our “Coalition of the Willing” crap. Why should your Congress approve any Iraq relief package?
--Calderón: Therein resides the brilliance of my plan. Michael Moore stated in his documentary “Fahrenheit 911” that we are members of the coalition. If it’s in the movie...
--Cheney:...it must be true! You are not as dumb as I thought, Cyrano. Even though your constant pointing of your nose at me is exasperating, your plan seems worth the time. Go on, how does buying the medical equipment translate into procuring phantom weapons?
--Calderón: There, precisely, lies the brilliant stroke. There’s no need for the weapons to actually exist. We simply pick a random country—say Krakozhia—to lend us the funds. The loan is set up as a government initiative to subsidize their lagging health industry exports. A dummy Krakozhian corporation, Gepetto’s Workshop, has already been chartered to act as the seller of the purported medical equipment. Mr. Reiche over here has agreed to arrange for his company, Fischel Corp, to serve as technical consultant for the deal. Here’s his recommendation indicating to Mr. Eliseo Vargas --who runs our state-owned health-care monopoly--that our beloved CCSS, founded by my father if I may add...
--Cheney: You are sacking your father’s legacy to your country? That’s evil, man. My respect for your nose, I mean, for you, has suddenly risen. But I ramble, please go on...
--Calderón. Well, as I was explaining, we then proceed with the “buying” of the made-belief equipment. We donate it to Iraq, and you follow suit proclaiming their WMDs have been found. We will take care of the equipment acquisition paperwork--loan agreement, dummy invoices, bills of lading, electronic money transfer slips, Customs papers demonstrating equipment delivery to Iraq, phony photographs, the whole 9 yards--, thus authenticating the use of the funds to Costa Rican regulatory authorities. Concurrently, you arrange for fake radar and thermal imaging of the weapons--pinpointing their location inside Iraq--as well as shipping manifestos from military subcontractors and point at the unofficial records--false phone call logs, terrorist contact’s names, message intercepts...--that will unequivocally evidence that the Costa Rican loan was a cover-up for what “really” took place: Us buying black market Krakozhian nukes and handing them over to Iraqi freedom fighters. By the time they figure out Krakozhia isn’t even a real country, and neither the weapons exist nor any sale ever took place...
--Cheney:...our president would have already been re-elected!
--Bush: Wait a second. Krakozhia isn’t a real country? So that’s why I couldn’t find it in the Atlas! Now I’m confused. Didn’t Tom Hanks’ character in that flick, “The Terminal,” come from a nation called Krakozhia?
--Calderón: See what I mean? If it’s in the movie...
--Cheney:...it must be true! That should buy us sufficient time until the truth is uncovered. Works for me, but I’m intrigued: what do you gain by all this? We accomplish our goal and emerge immaculately clean. Moreover, we swiftly demonstrate to the world our unparalleled skill at detecting and promptly stopping terrorist activity. But you will face certain imprisonment in your country and with no money to show for your efforts.
--Calderón: Well, not exactly. You will create a $5,000,000 expense account against your anti-terrorism budget. That will be our cut from the deal, let’s call it a “premio”, as we say back in CR...
*The 4 Costa Ricans laugh in unison*
--Calderón: Here’s the Panamanian account where the funds are to be deposited: Chorizo Holdings, account number: 12345666. As to the imprisonment, we fake illnesses to assure we get nothing more than house arrest in the exquisite comfort of our castle-like residences. Trust me, this plan can’t fail. Being there, done that.
--Cheney: And should the press dig something up and find enough evidence to trial and convict you in a REAL prison, we can simply annex CR as the 51st member of the American Union and appoint you as antiterrorism ambassadors or some made-up title of the sort.
--Calderón: It`s settled, then.
--Cheney: Yes, only one question lingers. I can see your role as deal coordinator and facilitator. Reiche and Vargas are the corrupt government officials. That’s pretty straightforward. But what’s that Rodriguez fellow’s place in all of this?
--Calderón: Nothing really. We just brought him to entertain your President so we could machinate in peace, without any of his obnoxious interferences.
*Bush is heard in the distance, intoning a rather excited remark to Miguel Ángel*
--Bush: Huh, beat you once again. I quite enjoy playing marbles with you!
--Calderón. See what I mean?
--Cheney: Sigh! It’s painfully clear.
--Calderón: Well, Dickie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship...
*Calderón and Cheney walk away together into the sunset*
It's a Wonderful Life…Or, is it?
"***A few days ago, in a galaxy near you***
--Big Fiscatel VIP: I have a felt a great disturbance in the Force. As if millions of voices screamed together in horror: I fear something terrible has happ.ened.
--Miguel Ángel Rodríguez: Could it be that Alderaan was blown up by the Death Star?
--Big Fiscatel VIP: Sigh. That's why you are an angel second class and haven't gotten your wings yet. No, my obtuse little friend, it's something worse. I fear the population of Costa Rica has been mislead by their corrupticians, and their peaceful country sacked by the greed and dishonesty of their rulers.
--MAR: No way, Joseph! I presided over that country just a few years ago, and can assure you we received no premios for assigning undeserved contracts to Finlandian or French multinationals.
--BFVIP: Yes, and Oceania is at war with Eurasia…But let's not delve into the past and focus on the present. We must ease the pain that subsumes CR in a desert of desolation and despair. I'm sending you back to Earth to renovate the spirits of Costa Ricans and recover their lost faith on the sacred institution of democracy.
--MAR: And what'll be my premio if I succeed?
--BFVIP: What's the obsession with you Costa Ricans and your premios? You will get your wings, as if that weren't enough. And before you ask, no, you can not go back as either Rupaul or Walter Mercado.
--MAR: Can I least ride atop Rudolph? I want to guide Santa's sleigh this Xmas.
--BFVIP: Yeah, right, Rosebud. For the umpteenth time: Using Rudolph's shiny bright nose to generate energy and sell it to ICE won't work. Besides, the co-generation scam has already been done. Take a number.
--MAR: Sigh. Ok, ok. I'll settle for the wingy things. Off I go to save the day back at my beloved homeland.
--BFVIP: Wait. I haven't briefed you about the situation. Let go of your dildo, sit down, and listen.
***Flashback to recent events on Earth are displayed in Big Fiscatel VIP's all-surveying Sony Wega 666" TV. We join Costa Rican ex-president Rafael Calderopone (commonly known as Al) exchanging pleasantries with a Finland trade representative***
-- Calderopone: Welcome to Costa Rica, my esteemed Norse friend.
--Finnish Exec: Hello, your Noseness. I'm Mr. Healthsinski, Head of the Caribbean Health Organization for the Reinvigoration of Industry (CHORI). And your name is?
-- Calderopone: The name is Calderopone. AL Calderopone.
--FE: And you like your vodka martini shaken, not stirred, I presume. But on to serious matters, I have a business proposal you won't be able to refuse.
-- Calderopone: Go ahead, make my day.
--FE: How bout $1,000,000 bucks for passing legislation, no questions asked.
-- Calderopone : Hmm… Interesting you bring that up. You know what my Mama always said: "Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're gonna get." So, you are saying you would like to contribute 1.000,000 chocolates for Costa Rican children in Halloween?
--FE: What??
-- Calderopone: Sigh! I'm speaking in code, just like in the movies. Walls have ears, you know. I may have said chocolate, but what I REALLY meant is something else altogether. Catch my drift?
--FE: So, you want some chocolate lovin'? Is that it, Hugh Grant? I can arrange for beautiful ebony ladies, you stud. Or dudes, if you putt from the rough…
--Calderopone: No. I mean I want 1,000,000 CHOCOLATES!!!
***Calderopone makes money sign***
--FE: Yes, Wonka, but I'm not in the chocolate business. I can offer, however, 1,000,000 unmarked American dollars in exchange for you using your influences and connections…
-- Calderopone: Sir, you are not implying that I can be bought!!!
***Turns water faucet on, then quietly murmurs to the Finnish Exec's ear***
--Calderopone: Here's my account. I'll have my lawyers prepare a draft of the contract to buy whatever crap you are selling. Count on me running a bill through our Congress and having it approved in no more than 3 days.
**Big Fiscatel VIP pauses the show***
--MAR: OK. I see where you are going. You want me to take the premio instead of him. I see it now: However painful this is to my morals, I shall duly obey your wise designs.
--Big Fiscatel VIP: Sigh! Your greed warps your brain. Told you what your mission is, I have not.
--MAR: Hey! You sound different!
--BFVIP: My bad. Just last night, I was watching the trailer for Episode III. But back to business. You must prevent this event from ever occurring. Should this money be accepted, it could create a moral paradox, the results of which could start a chain reaction that would unravel the very fabric of the space time continuum, and destroy the entire universe!
--MAR: Whoa, this is heavy. I think I should run for office once again and put a halt to these horrendous dealings…
--BFVIP: Hello, McFly? Anybody home? Aren't you paying attention, this is what starts the sacking of the Costa Rican Treasury and eventually lands you into jail. Zip your mouth and watch.
*** Big Fiscatel VIP resumes playback***
***Flashback to secret meeting at Charles de Gaulle airport, in France***
--Alcatel CEO: There you are, Monsieur. Finally you arrive. You are 3 days en retard. Where put@ins have you been?
--MAR: Pardon moi, monsieur. I was stuck for 3 days at JFK airport in New York. My Costa Rican passport was revoked as a US government reprimand for pulling out of the "Coalition of the Willing" Irak campaign. Had to sleep on the terminal's benches for 3 days until I finally could fake my passport and sneak past American Customs…
--Alcatel CEO: But, Monsieur, couldn't you have PHONED us? With our state-of-the-art telecommunication technology we could have closed this deal in no time. Now, about that crappy equipment your government was going to buy from us…
--MAR: Yes, it's all been taken care of. Here's the contract for you to sign…
***Alcatel CEO grabs the contract and signs. A devious smile crosses his face as a macabre laugh escapes from his lips***
--Alcatel CEO: It's done. Ah, France's claws asserting themselves over a smallish country once again. Feels like colonial times all over again. Ah, the good all times…
--MAR: Ehem! Monsieur, we're not quite finished…
--Alcatel CEO: Ah, oui. Almost forgot. Here's Zinedine Zidane's game-worn underwear, as per your request…
*** Big Fiscatel VIP pauses the show once again***
--Big Fiscatel VIP: You now understand this is what happens if Calderon's not stopped from taking the bribe? See why you must impede that from ever taking place?
--MAR: But the underwear wasn't for me. I'm not a fag.got or anything. I just needed it to dress up my Zidane inflatable doll…
--Big Fiscatel VIP: I was referring to you taking the BRIBE, not your Alexander complex. You know what, forget about the wings and the job. I hear there's new political blood in Costa Rica: Some group calling itself "Partido NALGA." Perhaps they'll be better able to salvage their country. As for you, I tried to give you a second chance, but I guess it's irrelevant. You may actually enjoy your stint as a jailbird. Here's a bar of soap; I fear you will actually find it useful where you are going.
***MAR vanishes from the Heavenly pastures. A bar of soap is heard being tossed to the floor at La Reforma, while an ex-president bends down to pick it up…***
***Meanwhile, Big Fiscatel VIP logs on to the Internet and searches for the word "NALGA". The recruitment for those who will redeem Costa Rican democracy has begun…*** "
--Big Fiscatel VIP: I have a felt a great disturbance in the Force. As if millions of voices screamed together in horror: I fear something terrible has happ.ened.
--Miguel Ángel Rodríguez: Could it be that Alderaan was blown up by the Death Star?
--Big Fiscatel VIP: Sigh. That's why you are an angel second class and haven't gotten your wings yet. No, my obtuse little friend, it's something worse. I fear the population of Costa Rica has been mislead by their corrupticians, and their peaceful country sacked by the greed and dishonesty of their rulers.
--MAR: No way, Joseph! I presided over that country just a few years ago, and can assure you we received no premios for assigning undeserved contracts to Finlandian or French multinationals.
--BFVIP: Yes, and Oceania is at war with Eurasia…But let's not delve into the past and focus on the present. We must ease the pain that subsumes CR in a desert of desolation and despair. I'm sending you back to Earth to renovate the spirits of Costa Ricans and recover their lost faith on the sacred institution of democracy.
--MAR: And what'll be my premio if I succeed?
--BFVIP: What's the obsession with you Costa Ricans and your premios? You will get your wings, as if that weren't enough. And before you ask, no, you can not go back as either Rupaul or Walter Mercado.
--MAR: Can I least ride atop Rudolph? I want to guide Santa's sleigh this Xmas.
--BFVIP: Yeah, right, Rosebud. For the umpteenth time: Using Rudolph's shiny bright nose to generate energy and sell it to ICE won't work. Besides, the co-generation scam has already been done. Take a number.
--MAR: Sigh. Ok, ok. I'll settle for the wingy things. Off I go to save the day back at my beloved homeland.
--BFVIP: Wait. I haven't briefed you about the situation. Let go of your dildo, sit down, and listen.
***Flashback to recent events on Earth are displayed in Big Fiscatel VIP's all-surveying Sony Wega 666" TV. We join Costa Rican ex-president Rafael Calderopone (commonly known as Al) exchanging pleasantries with a Finland trade representative***
-- Calderopone: Welcome to Costa Rica, my esteemed Norse friend.
--Finnish Exec: Hello, your Noseness. I'm Mr. Healthsinski, Head of the Caribbean Health Organization for the Reinvigoration of Industry (CHORI). And your name is?
-- Calderopone: The name is Calderopone. AL Calderopone.
--FE: And you like your vodka martini shaken, not stirred, I presume. But on to serious matters, I have a business proposal you won't be able to refuse.
-- Calderopone: Go ahead, make my day.
--FE: How bout $1,000,000 bucks for passing legislation, no questions asked.
-- Calderopone : Hmm… Interesting you bring that up. You know what my Mama always said: "Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're gonna get." So, you are saying you would like to contribute 1.000,000 chocolates for Costa Rican children in Halloween?
--FE: What??
-- Calderopone: Sigh! I'm speaking in code, just like in the movies. Walls have ears, you know. I may have said chocolate, but what I REALLY meant is something else altogether. Catch my drift?
--FE: So, you want some chocolate lovin'? Is that it, Hugh Grant? I can arrange for beautiful ebony ladies, you stud. Or dudes, if you putt from the rough…
--Calderopone: No. I mean I want 1,000,000 CHOCOLATES!!!
***Calderopone makes money sign***
--FE: Yes, Wonka, but I'm not in the chocolate business. I can offer, however, 1,000,000 unmarked American dollars in exchange for you using your influences and connections…
-- Calderopone: Sir, you are not implying that I can be bought!!!
***Turns water faucet on, then quietly murmurs to the Finnish Exec's ear***
--Calderopone: Here's my account. I'll have my lawyers prepare a draft of the contract to buy whatever crap you are selling. Count on me running a bill through our Congress and having it approved in no more than 3 days.
**Big Fiscatel VIP pauses the show***
--MAR: OK. I see where you are going. You want me to take the premio instead of him. I see it now: However painful this is to my morals, I shall duly obey your wise designs.
--Big Fiscatel VIP: Sigh! Your greed warps your brain. Told you what your mission is, I have not.
--MAR: Hey! You sound different!
--BFVIP: My bad. Just last night, I was watching the trailer for Episode III. But back to business. You must prevent this event from ever occurring. Should this money be accepted, it could create a moral paradox, the results of which could start a chain reaction that would unravel the very fabric of the space time continuum, and destroy the entire universe!
--MAR: Whoa, this is heavy. I think I should run for office once again and put a halt to these horrendous dealings…
--BFVIP: Hello, McFly? Anybody home? Aren't you paying attention, this is what starts the sacking of the Costa Rican Treasury and eventually lands you into jail. Zip your mouth and watch.
*** Big Fiscatel VIP resumes playback***
***Flashback to secret meeting at Charles de Gaulle airport, in France***
--Alcatel CEO: There you are, Monsieur. Finally you arrive. You are 3 days en retard. Where put@ins have you been?
--MAR: Pardon moi, monsieur. I was stuck for 3 days at JFK airport in New York. My Costa Rican passport was revoked as a US government reprimand for pulling out of the "Coalition of the Willing" Irak campaign. Had to sleep on the terminal's benches for 3 days until I finally could fake my passport and sneak past American Customs…
--Alcatel CEO: But, Monsieur, couldn't you have PHONED us? With our state-of-the-art telecommunication technology we could have closed this deal in no time. Now, about that crappy equipment your government was going to buy from us…
--MAR: Yes, it's all been taken care of. Here's the contract for you to sign…
***Alcatel CEO grabs the contract and signs. A devious smile crosses his face as a macabre laugh escapes from his lips***
--Alcatel CEO: It's done. Ah, France's claws asserting themselves over a smallish country once again. Feels like colonial times all over again. Ah, the good all times…
--MAR: Ehem! Monsieur, we're not quite finished…
--Alcatel CEO: Ah, oui. Almost forgot. Here's Zinedine Zidane's game-worn underwear, as per your request…
*** Big Fiscatel VIP pauses the show once again***
--Big Fiscatel VIP: You now understand this is what happens if Calderon's not stopped from taking the bribe? See why you must impede that from ever taking place?
--MAR: But the underwear wasn't for me. I'm not a fag.got or anything. I just needed it to dress up my Zidane inflatable doll…
--Big Fiscatel VIP: I was referring to you taking the BRIBE, not your Alexander complex. You know what, forget about the wings and the job. I hear there's new political blood in Costa Rica: Some group calling itself "Partido NALGA." Perhaps they'll be better able to salvage their country. As for you, I tried to give you a second chance, but I guess it's irrelevant. You may actually enjoy your stint as a jailbird. Here's a bar of soap; I fear you will actually find it useful where you are going.
***MAR vanishes from the Heavenly pastures. A bar of soap is heard being tossed to the floor at La Reforma, while an ex-president bends down to pick it up…***
***Meanwhile, Big Fiscatel VIP logs on to the Internet and searches for the word "NALGA". The recruitment for those who will redeem Costa Rican democracy has begun…*** "
A typical day at the Oval Office
A recently-leaked account of President Bush's decision-making in the aftermath of Pope John Paul II's ill-timed death.
***Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice discusses international policy with President Bush***
--Rice: Mr. President. We need to discuss our approach concerning the Vatican…
--Bush: The Batican? That name rings a bell. Does it have anything to do with Batman? And speaking of Bats, when is the Cape Crusader's new movie opening?
--Rice: July, Sir. But I wasn't referring to the comic book character. I meant the Vatican, as in the Holy See…
--Bush: Holy shit, Batman! Ha, ha! Get it? Holy See, Holy Shit. I so amuse myself.
--Rice: Yes sir, quite clever Robin impression. As to the issue at hand, I was explaining that the Conclave is over and the new Pope…
--Bush: Hmm… Hang on. I got a great idea coming. Pope…Pope…Popeye! Yes, I just had a stroke of genius. How about a movie called "Popeye vs Batman"? Listen to this pitch: The Batmovile runs out of oil and Batman leads a Coalition of the Willing to retrieve the petroleum from the evil Ras-Al-Ghul and his Arab Empire?
--Rice: Sir, I doubt that "plot" would be convenient considering the present geopolitical situation, not to mention Ras-al-Ghul isn't actually arab... Besides, where does Popeye fit into all this?
--Bush: Isn't it obvious? Ras-Al-Ghul uses a voodoo doll to force Popeye into fighting Batman. It's utterly witty. This is going to be even better than…what's that classic movie called? The one about the guy with the hill of beans who was in love with a woman he met back in Texas? Was it "White House"?
--Rice: Actually, that's Paris, the capital of France, not the Texan city of the same name. And the film is "Casablanca," sir. You know, the Moroccan city…
--Bush: Ah, yes, the capital of Morocco, the country near Al-Goria.
--Rice: Algeria, Mr. President. It appears you're confusing the country's name with that of your former political rival's. Notwithstanding that—and the fact that Morocco's capital is Rabat, rather than Casablanca—you're a geography whiz. But back on subject, now that the new Pope has been elected…
--Bush: Slow down a bit. Elections you said? Were they fair? How do we know the ballots were properly accounted for? I think we should ask for a recount.
--Rice: Ehem, however brilliant that idea may be, the ballots are BURNED after the new Pontiff is elected, the resulting white smoke indicating a victor has been determined. A recount is impossible. It's tradition.
--Bush: Tradition or not, it doesn't add up. Recounts are invaluable to an electoral process. Take me for example. Imagine if Jeb had not leveraged his political power over at Florida. America would be ruled by those intern-loving dems. Myself, as well as America, owe so much to my kid brother.
--Rice: Yes, my Fearless Leader, I'm sure you are a great Big Brother... Getting back to the Vatican affair, our Public Relations staff was considering a joint ceremonial visit to congratulate the Pope after his accession. We're currently working on a diplomatic delegation with the Brits…
--Bush: Wait! That reminds me my Britney Spears concert starts in an hour…Err, that didn't come out right…
--Rice: Don't worry sir. You're free to go. It's good that you take your niece out for her birthday.
--Bush: But I don't have a niece…The tickets are actually for…Ah, wait, I see what you're doing. You're really good at this. Am I glad I had the initiative to appoint you as Secretary of State!
--Rice: Actually, sir, if you recall, you were practically forced to offer me the job after Powell got tired of your disregard for international law, but I digress. In any case, we need your signature in the congratulatory letter we drafted for His Excellency Pope Bene dict…
--Bush: Don't tell me his full name! I'm not a retard:As if I didn't know about Pope Benedick Cheney! See how up-to-date I'm with current foreign affairs?
--Rice: Nothing slips by you, Sire, but I'm afraid you might be confusing the recently-elected Pope with Vice president Dick Cheney.
--Bush: And speaking of Dick, he just gave me a book as a President's Day gift. Took me two months to read and fully comprehend. Truly an intellectual tour de force, the damn thing. I've heard this Pope is a gifted theologian. Would it be appropriate to send it to him as a token of good will from the American People?
--Rice: Great idea, Mr. President! You're getting quite adept at international diplomacy.
--Bush: Not to blow my own horn, but what can I say, I'm a natural.
--Rice: Guess you're, Sire. By the way, what's the book's title?
--Bush: "The Da Vinci Code."
--Rice: Sigh!
***Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice discusses international policy with President Bush***
--Rice: Mr. President. We need to discuss our approach concerning the Vatican…
--Bush: The Batican? That name rings a bell. Does it have anything to do with Batman? And speaking of Bats, when is the Cape Crusader's new movie opening?
--Rice: July, Sir. But I wasn't referring to the comic book character. I meant the Vatican, as in the Holy See…
--Bush: Holy shit, Batman! Ha, ha! Get it? Holy See, Holy Shit. I so amuse myself.
--Rice: Yes sir, quite clever Robin impression. As to the issue at hand, I was explaining that the Conclave is over and the new Pope…
--Bush: Hmm… Hang on. I got a great idea coming. Pope…Pope…Popeye! Yes, I just had a stroke of genius. How about a movie called "Popeye vs Batman"? Listen to this pitch: The Batmovile runs out of oil and Batman leads a Coalition of the Willing to retrieve the petroleum from the evil Ras-Al-Ghul and his Arab Empire?
--Rice: Sir, I doubt that "plot" would be convenient considering the present geopolitical situation, not to mention Ras-al-Ghul isn't actually arab... Besides, where does Popeye fit into all this?
--Bush: Isn't it obvious? Ras-Al-Ghul uses a voodoo doll to force Popeye into fighting Batman. It's utterly witty. This is going to be even better than…what's that classic movie called? The one about the guy with the hill of beans who was in love with a woman he met back in Texas? Was it "White House"?
--Rice: Actually, that's Paris, the capital of France, not the Texan city of the same name. And the film is "Casablanca," sir. You know, the Moroccan city…
--Bush: Ah, yes, the capital of Morocco, the country near Al-Goria.
--Rice: Algeria, Mr. President. It appears you're confusing the country's name with that of your former political rival's. Notwithstanding that—and the fact that Morocco's capital is Rabat, rather than Casablanca—you're a geography whiz. But back on subject, now that the new Pope has been elected…
--Bush: Slow down a bit. Elections you said? Were they fair? How do we know the ballots were properly accounted for? I think we should ask for a recount.
--Rice: Ehem, however brilliant that idea may be, the ballots are BURNED after the new Pontiff is elected, the resulting white smoke indicating a victor has been determined. A recount is impossible. It's tradition.
--Bush: Tradition or not, it doesn't add up. Recounts are invaluable to an electoral process. Take me for example. Imagine if Jeb had not leveraged his political power over at Florida. America would be ruled by those intern-loving dems. Myself, as well as America, owe so much to my kid brother.
--Rice: Yes, my Fearless Leader, I'm sure you are a great Big Brother... Getting back to the Vatican affair, our Public Relations staff was considering a joint ceremonial visit to congratulate the Pope after his accession. We're currently working on a diplomatic delegation with the Brits…
--Bush: Wait! That reminds me my Britney Spears concert starts in an hour…Err, that didn't come out right…
--Rice: Don't worry sir. You're free to go. It's good that you take your niece out for her birthday.
--Bush: But I don't have a niece…The tickets are actually for…Ah, wait, I see what you're doing. You're really good at this. Am I glad I had the initiative to appoint you as Secretary of State!
--Rice: Actually, sir, if you recall, you were practically forced to offer me the job after Powell got tired of your disregard for international law, but I digress. In any case, we need your signature in the congratulatory letter we drafted for His Excellency Pope Bene dict…
--Bush: Don't tell me his full name! I'm not a retard:As if I didn't know about Pope Benedick Cheney! See how up-to-date I'm with current foreign affairs?
--Rice: Nothing slips by you, Sire, but I'm afraid you might be confusing the recently-elected Pope with Vice president Dick Cheney.
--Bush: And speaking of Dick, he just gave me a book as a President's Day gift. Took me two months to read and fully comprehend. Truly an intellectual tour de force, the damn thing. I've heard this Pope is a gifted theologian. Would it be appropriate to send it to him as a token of good will from the American People?
--Rice: Great idea, Mr. President! You're getting quite adept at international diplomacy.
--Bush: Not to blow my own horn, but what can I say, I'm a natural.
--Rice: Guess you're, Sire. By the way, what's the book's title?
--Bush: "The Da Vinci Code."
--Rice: Sigh!
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