George W. Bush had the suspects lined up against the far wall in the living room.
The murders had begun last night, when all the guests
had checked in to the stately mansion. Now there
were at least two murders that had taken place, and
everyone had the sneaking suspicion that there were
more to come.
Not the first murder, but the first death came when
Robert “Bob” Graham, a dock worker from
Florida, slipped on some ice outside the front door
and hit his head. He died shortly thereafter from
blunt trauma. Graham never got inside the house,
so it couldn’t have been a murder.
“Or could it?” thought Bush.
The next to die was Carol Moseley Braun, a motivational
speaker from Illinois. We were all sad to see her
go, but word around the campfire was that the fact
she turned up dead (a knife in her back, her body
slumped on the matriarch side of the dinner table
and a note scrawled where she sat in her handwriting,
claiming she left all her worldly possessions to
one Howard Dean) was hardly surprising.
The next to go was Dick Gephardt, a union leader
from Missouri. Gephardt went the way of Jimmy Hoffa.
No body, no final message. Just a poof and a vanish.
Which brings us back to now. Chief Inspector Bush,
with his sidekick, Lt. Inspector Richard Cheney,
standing there with a gin and tonic in his left
hand and outstretched index finger on the other.
had a drink for years, and the smooth taste of the
spirit seemed to sanctify his mood. It was time to
grill the suspects.
He went first to John Edwards. “Where were
you last night, Bubba?”
“Why, ah do declare, all of this excitement has
put a numbah on mah constitution. Ah do hope everyone
makes it through tha naight in one piece!” Edwards
said as he fanned himself with lace.
Next up, Joe Lieberman. Lieberman didn’t look
so great. He was sweating and his eyes shifted every
which way all over the room. “I really c-c-couldn’t
say…but I, I just have this feeling…this
strange feeling…I think I’ll be next!”
Al Sharpton: “I don’t know much, but
word on the street is that the Lord works in mysterious
ways. So you’d best watch your mouth if you
know what’s good for you.”
Dennis Kucinich: “I’m only thwee-and-a-half
Bush rolled his eyes. What a bunch of jokers. “I
certainly have my work cut out for me,” he
Bush then walked to John Kerry. Bush was certainly
nervous about him, as he was a Vietnam vet, while
Bush ducked the draft. No doubt Kerry was pilotin’ Black
Ops missions in the jungles of North Vietnam while
Bush was suckin’ on his mama’s tit at
Woodstock while AWOL in the National Guard. This
guy was going to be trouble. Kerry seemed to be in
mid-conversation and Bush struggled to keep up. “We
shouldn’t Vietnam be opening firehouses in
Baghdad and closing Vietnam them in Brooklyn. Our
first defenders Vietnam should never come in last
in the budget Vietnam. FireVietnamfighters are first
up the stairs, and I believe they deserve to be first
Vietnam in line when we decide our spending priorities.
I was in Vietnam.”
“Whatever,” Bush thought. Boy, there were
a lot of these suspects. Bush’s head was starting
to hurt. Bush then turned to Wesley Clark, who apparently
also had something to do with the military.
“Well, I just think…” Clark began,
but he was interrupted by Howard Dean. With his face
beat red, the “doctor” from Vermont lifted
up his coat, revealing 29 sticks of dynamite duct-taped
to a Mickey Mouse alarm clock. “GAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
I can’t take this anymore! The pressure!!! It’s
too much!!! If I’m going down, you’re all
going with me! Yeaaahhhhh!!!!” And with that,
The mansion was nothing more than stately rubble
now. Coughing and shaking the dust from their
suits, Bush and Cheney surveyed the damage done.
“What happened?” Bush said “Everything
is gone! It looks like some kind of weapon massively
destroyed this pl—…No! The dastard!” Bush
then dropped to his knees and shook his fists to the
sky. “Damn you, Saddam! DAMN YOOOOOUUUU!”
“Forget it, George,” said Cheney. “It’s