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 KCaliban's indepth study on the planning and execution of President George W. Bush's recent foray into Europe. Vice President Cheney: Mr. President? I'd like to have a word with you on your trip to Europe. Bush sits at his desk and does not respond. Cheney: Mr. President? (No response.) Cheney: That's you, Junior. Bush: No kidding. I never could keep all these funny titles straight. With me being an outsider and all. Cheney: Uh... yes. I have that um... same problem. Bush: Well, nice of you to stop by, Mister Cheney. Wanna play cowboys? Cheney: Maybe later, George. right now we need to discuss this trip to Europe. Bush: I think I'll kick the president of Yirop in the shins if no one plays cow boys with me. Cheney: We can do that later, George. Right now we need to -- Bush: I think I'll declare war on Oregon if you don't play Cowboys. Cheney: Fine, fine. One minute, George. Steps outside. Colin Powell and Rumsfeld and waiting in the hall. Cheney: Is either of you gentleman up for a strategy session with the President? Rumsfeld: It's your turn, Dick. I put in two hours yesterday. Cheney: My blood pressure is way up today. Powell: How convenient. Let's see the charts. Cheney: I don't have them on me. Powell: Listen, Cheney. You can only pull this so many times. Rumsfeld: Gentlemen, surely we can find a way to resolve this. Cheney: You mean the usual? Rumsfeld: (Nods.) The three make sure no one is looking, then do rock, paper, scissors. Powell loses. Powell: (Grimaces.) If I have to play the cow again there's gonna be hell to pay. Rumsfeld: Maybe we should tell him about Indians. Cheney: No way. God knows he's offended enough minority groups as is. Rumsfeld: I've got a feeling that he's about to offend one more. Powell enters the Oval Office. Bush: About time, Mr. Cow. Let's go! Powell: (groans) Bush: Well, aren't you going to let me ride you? Powell: George -- Bush: Who's George? I'm PECOS BILL! Powell: Okay, Pecos Bill. The -- Bush: Hurry, Mr. Cow! I need to ride to the saloon! Powell: Tell me again, Pecos Bill, how this fits into "upholding the dignity of the Oval Office." Bush: Mr. Co-o-ow! Powell: Cowboys don't ride cows. Bush: Of course they do! I'm a Texan. From outside the beltway! A compassionate conservative. I know these things! From texas, I am. Powell: You're from Connecticut, George. Bush: Pecos Bill! Pecos Bill! Powell: Whatever. Bush: Mush, cow, MUSH! Powell: Have you ever wondered why minorities hate you? Bush: How could they? I speak Spanish! Pause. Bush: Wait... You mean those minorities! Are you suggesting I should learn Ebonics? Powell: NO! Forget I said that. Bush: Wassup, my brotha cow! Let's dip! Powell: George, ever wonder why that desk is so big? Bush: (unsure) No.... Powell: There's a monster that lives inside. He loves to eat cowboys. If you keep acting like one, he might think you are one and eat you. I think he's going to eat you pretty soon unless you talk about Europe with Mr. cheney. Bush: (nods slowly, terror-stricken.) Powell: Good. I'll go get him. In the meantime, be very still and quiet and the monster will leave you alone. (Leaves the office and walks into the hall, where Cheney and Rumsfeld are waiting.) Powell: He's all yours. Cheney: How'd it go? Powell: Let's just say I'm brilliant and leave it at that. (Storms off.) Rumsfeld: This has "long day" written all over it. Cheney: Wish me luck. (Enters Oval Office.) Notices Bush seems worried. Cheney: What's the matter, George? Bush: Mister Cheney, is what Mr. Cow said about the monster in the desk true? Cheney: What did he say? Bush: That it would eat me if I didn't discuss Yirop with you. Cheney: Yes. Now let's get started, shall we? The first stop on your trip will be France. Bush: Whoa, whoa ... Hold it there, Mister Cheney. France people are mean. They really made fun of that guy, just because he had the hump and all rang the bell. It wasn't nice at all. Then they try and steal the football name of that place that gave me that cool sheet of paper with that stamp with the gibberish on it that came in the cool leather case thing... Cheney: You're going to have to visit France sometime, George. Bush: But they eat raw fish! Cheney: That'd be the Japanese, George. Bush: The who? Cheney: Remember the short gentleman in the suit with dark hair who stormed out when you gave him your laundry? He was the President of Japan. Bush: Oh, you mean Grouchy. Cheney: Yes. But never mind that. Back to Europe. You'll have to shake hands with President Chirac -- Bush: What kind of name is that? Sounds kind of like I-rock. Do I get to use cruise missiles? I oughta really get him. I think I'll tackle him and -- Cheney: (shouting) Okay! We don't go to France! Bush: You don't need to get worked up over it, Mister Cheney. Cheney: Germany, then. Yes, that will serve nicely for a first stop. Largest economy in Europe, there will probably be something you can dedicate in Berlin ... Yes, that'll be a great photo-op. You know, you aren't bad George. Bush: Aren't they all Nazis? I saw something on the learning channel that said that was bad or something. Do I get to tackle him, too? That'll look great. It was after that thing on the scottish ghosts in hoods. I'll take a hard stand on that too. Cheney: Nevermind, bad idea. England, then. Bush: But didn't you say the chief conserve-a-tive there was that bald guy? I don't want to be seen in public with him! They'll think I'm a loser or something. And the only way I'll get in any parties will be if I bring the keg myself. I don't want to go back to those days, Mister Cheney! Please, no! Cheney: (groans.) Six hours later... Cheney: (exasperated) Let's see... Hungary is bad before lunch. Italy is out because the woman "no shave their legs." Ireland is out because Irish people "talk funny." Russia is out because... What was the reason for that again, George? Bush: It's too big. I'd get lost. Cheney: Dammit, George! What the hell is left! Where will we go? (Suddenly a device starts beeping frantically. Cheney swears, sits down, and takes several deep breaths. Then he gets up again and, trying to remain calm, repeats his question.) Cheney: Where will we go? Bush: Why don't we just go to Mexico again so that everyone will talk about how bilingual I am. Cheney: That's it! SPAIN! Bush: You mean there are people in Yirop who speak Spanish, too? Cool! How'd that happen? Well? Cheney: Hey, look, a shiny piece of foil! Bush: Where? Where? Cheney: (aside) I've learned that it's easier to distract him that it is to answer his questions. (to Bush.) So Spain it is. What else haven't we eliminated. (Looks at a much crossed out map of Europe.) What else haven't we eliminated? Hmm... Poland ... Sweden... Slovenia ... Georgie boy, we're set. Bush: Awesome, Mister Cheney! Yirop ho! And so Boy George began his journey to far off Yirop. Spain, one week later. Bush and the President of Spain (POS) are conversing in Spanish. Bush: (Bilingual I am, no? Impressive, yes, is it.) POS: (Yes, Mr. President. My nation has been wondering about...) Bush: (Most speak language one only. I as for me speak too.) POS: (Yes, you should be proud. But on the subject of --) Bush: (Speak two do I more than one of most that speak U.S.) POS: (growing irritated) (Yes, Mr. President. Why don't we speak in English now.) Bush: (Sound bites need I for approval rating so say Mister Cheney.) POS: You've gotten plenty. Enough of this gibberish. Bush: Andale, andale! ARRIBA! POS: Beg pardon? Bush: Yo quiro taco bell. POS: If you keep this up I'll break your arm. Bush: ... POS: Well, as I was saying on the subject of tarrifs -- Bush: How's your favorite baseball team doing? POS: We in Spain do not follow baseball. Bush: Nonsense! All you latinos LOVE baseball. POS: We are Spaniards, Mr. Bush. We don't play baseball. Now, if you would like to discuss policy -- Bush: It's our sport, you know. You should be grateful we let you play. Why, in Cuba we are going to strafe there stadiums until they give our God-given sport back. Mister Cheney said no, but I signed the order when he wasn't looking. It should really be cool. But you can still play all the baseball you like. Just stop smuggling drugs and everything will be fine. POS: If you keep this nonsense up I'll... Bush: Don't get grouchy! I read that we whupped your asses once in a war. POS: Get out of my country. Now. (And so, after winning a great victory for the forces of free trade, democracy, and God, Curious George plods deeper into the heart of savage Yirop to a place known only as "Poland.") Bush is giving a speech to a packed hall. Bush: Anyway, that reminds me of another joke. What does it say on the bottom of Polish Coke bottles? Awkward Pause. Bush: Open other end! Get it? Polish people are stupid! HAR, HAR, HAR! Soon after, Curious George was safely on his way to Sloveneland, having cleverly escaped the angry mob. In Slovenia... Bush: So, Vlad -- I can call you Vlad, right? Putin: No. Bush: Anyway, Vlad, that's the logic behind the rationale of my nook-yoo-lar shield. Putin: What do you mean? You're acting as though you're providing me with a summary of what you've said when that's the only comment you made the whole time! Bush: Whoops... Guess I got the last page and the first page mixed up. (Shuffles papers. Finds a slew of paper airplanes.) Aha! Here it is! (Pause.) Putin: Would you care to unfold those and read what it says on them to me? Bush: And ruin them? You're trying to force us to disarm, aren't you? Well, listen up! That bullying isn't going to work on my! Don't you mess with Texas, you hear? Putin: So you're saying you used the packet given to you for the purpose of making paper airplanes, so that now only one sheet is left. You also refuse to unfold those airplanes and read there contents because you find the planes more important than a healthy relationship with Russia? Bush: That's right, Vlad. You commies are sharp. But not sharp enough for me! Putin: Russia isn't communist anymore, Mr. Bush. Bush: Don't think you can pull the wool over my eyes! My use of down-home metaphors will reasonate strongly with the focus groups. You got nothing! Putin: Bush, look at that map. It doesn't say USSR. It says "Russia." Bush: USS who? Are you commies trying to steal our name, too? Putin: Did you listen to your advisors at all when they briefed you? Bush: No, but I watched lots of Rocky and Bullwinkle. They trick those commies every time. Every time! (Putin walks out without talking any further.) Bush: Hah! I sure showed these Yiropers who's boss! Next time I'll take on the nation of Africa. I can't be stopped! Angry Polish mob bangs on doors. Bush: Damn! How do I get out of here... Should have paid closer attention during Zorro! Secret Service spirits Bush away from the mob once again, this time for Woshingtun Dee-See. Way to go, Mr. President! |