A Short Imaginary Conversation With A Former President (Because Someone Had To Do It)

Sometimes a stained image of a mutilated dead bug
just feels right.

(phone rings)

The Oaf: President Bush, I was just wondering about your exit strategy from Afganistan.

The Shrub: It's not my problem, I'm not the president anymore. Good-bye. (hangs up.)

(phone rings)

The Oaf: And I was wondering about the way you sold off our national food stores. What with the economy, aren't we going to wish we still had those?

The Shrub: It's not my problem, I'm not the president anymore. Good-bye. (hangs up.)

(phone rings)

The Oaf: Listen, dude, as a citizen I thought it was the ultimate in international embarrassment when your old man puked on the Japanese Prime Minister but you've put him in the shade. Go ahead and rape the Constitution and the economy and all that but for pete's sake, as our nation's representative could you just stop acting like a doofus when there are grownups in the room?


The Shrub: Will you cut it out? I'm not the president. I'm not the president! I'M NOT THE PRESIDENT! Why do you keep making me tell you I'm not the president?

The Oaf: Sorry, man. I just like the way it sounds.

(rim shot and fade)