“Hello and good evening, my fellow Americans. This is my 134th television address. I know it’s becoming a daily occurrence, but I am the president of the most powerful nation in the world and that should give me some prerogatives. I’ve seen how the Russkies look at us with a combo of envy and enmity. It gives me great pleasure to be able to look ‘em in the eye and say, ‘Go fluff yourself, Ivan!’
“But I’m not in Russia tonight. Nor is Russia the topic of my speech. No, I’m in the small, war-torn nation of Palookastan, here ostensibly to sign a treaty with President Baniak Plotzi. President Plotzi is a wonderful man! I knew him when he still lived in Bethesda, Maryland and ran a car dealership. ‘Don’t buy from Plotzi if you’re worried about the legitimacy of your paperwork,’ people said. Ha! Ha! Funny! ‘Never buy a used car from Plotzi, he’ll trick you every time,’ my neighbors pointed out. Good old Baniak! What a wily character! Naturally, I was delighted when an earlier administration installed him as president of this little, war-torn country. I figured a wheeler-dealer like Plotzi would make quick work of the Muslim insurrectionists. Little did I know what a whiner and complainer he’d become.
“So, here we are, ten years later, still bogged down in the shitty little country of Palookastan.
“On Sunday— that is, two days ago— I was in the Situation Room using, you know, Skype, to teleconference with President Plotzi. Our server went down for a few minutes— nothing major— and, sitting there, I thought, ‘I’m president of the United States! Why should I, Blackie Diamond, need to sit here, stewing in my juices, waiting on faulty equipment?’ That’s when I told my staff to get out the old chariot and wind up the rubber band. We’d fly, instead of cogitating, to Palookastan and rally the troops! Best decision I’ve made in awhile!
“Firstly, it gets me out of Washington, D.C. Don’t take it personally, but that burg is one hot kettle of fish.
“Secondly, and more importantly, I get to emphasize my role as Commander In Chief. I mean, thank God George Washington wore two hats! Commander of the Continental Army and, you know, president. Now, anyone who gets elected Prez automatically becomes— you don’t even have to go to Staff College!— not a captain, not a rear admiral, not a vice admiral or even an admiral. Not even a fleet admiral in time of war… Oh, no! ‘Mastah Flash! ‘ Top dog! Commander In Chief!
“Suck on them apples, Ivan!
“Actually, my staff was, like, ‘Whoa! Is that a good idea? Traipsing halfway around the world?’
“Every decision between now and November is viewed, naturally, in the context of re-election. Man gotta get re-elected.
“So when I points out the po-tential for a flashy, campaign-style visit with the troops, and then this here bully pulpit Sermon On the Mount from the Plotzi Palace, my rod and my staff, they comfort me!
“I love meeting the troops! I have never served a day in my life, and these young people will courageously ride into the Valley of the Shadow of Death for me. Now that’s power! Mind over matter. Patriotism. Aromatic charisma. Aromatic miasma. Catnip for the soul.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this war, it is this: If you want to freak out a German, urinate while standing up! We stand, they sit.
“No, seriously, the Paloos are totally self-absorbed. That’s what I wanted to say! We give ‘em all this money and equipment, and they don’t even show us a particularly good time. Charlie Wilson knew how to throw a party! This palace is… I don’t want to say ‘dreary,’ but… it ain’t The Playboy Club. ‘Keyholders only!’ Bunnies! Tha’s what I’m talkin’ about! Bunny tails.
“Listen. Here’s the nuts and bolts of my speech: I’ve signed a treaty with President Plotzi that SPECIFICALLY STATES that we are pulling American Armed Forces out of this pretty little country. And I mean, sooner rather than later!
“Real soon.
“Soon.
“Soon enough.
“A written treaty. I know, because my rod, my staff and I wrote it. I mean, I didn’t use my rod to write it, but… Whatever!
“This is a really important treaty that fully justifies flying over here.
“The G.A.O.— that’s the General Accounting Office— has very kindly pointed out to my staff that Air Force One costs $179,750 an hour to operate. Now, Palookastan is kinda a longish type flight, 14 hours and 30 minutes. Since I intend to come back home, this little… trip… cost a cool $5,212,750.
“See! I have nothing to hide, you Republicans! I’m not ashamed to let it all hang out there when I am acting in service to the American people. Just fixing the cracks in the Washington Monument after the Mineral, Virginia earthquake is gonna cost $24 million. So my five mil is, like, chicken feed. Lots o’ school lunches you could buy fo’ five mil, but that’s not the point! We’re trying to shore up a sniveling, whiny ally whose got problems! Serious problems !
“Peace, brothers!
“As I was saying, I had already talked with Baniak on Skype. The doctor in me decided it was time for a house call. Think of this as an episode on ‘E.R.’ We want the patient to survive, don’t we?
“So here I be! We killed our arch-enemy Salami bin Lahtis, and that’s a good thing. Never liked that guy! He gave the field of general aviation a bad rep. Flying airplanes into buildings will do that. He gone! I here! Who’s laughing now, Salami?!
“I do resent those who claim I am turning a treaty-signing ceremony into a campaign rally. Nothing could be further from the truth. That said, I want to give a shout-out to Stan Gillepsie and all you voters in Ohio and Pennsylvania. Go, blue state, go! To you Virginians, I say, ‘Hooray for Sir Walter Raleigh!’ Special thanks, also, to Jack and Jill Hill of Oxburg, Maryland, who have carried a lot of water for this campaign.
“Salutations to animal lovers everywhere! I need your vote.
“Really, the kind of dog you own often defines who you are. Here at Plotsi Palace, the dogs are all Pekinese. In Palookastan, the tail all too often wags the dog.
“My family in the White House has, of course, an Alsatian Lapdog. That’s me! ‘Is there a dog in the house?’
“As it says in the Bible, each of us gets the dog he or she deserves— or words to that effect!
“To my critics, carping on the stagnant economy, I say, there IS an easy answer: ‘The dog ate my homework!’
“Naw, now I’m just funnin’ ya! But to quote stand-up comedian Ortego Williams, ‘There’s a lot of truth in humor, Señor. Your wallet, please!’
“Every dog has its day. Vota por mí. Yo quiero Taco Bell!
“That ought to get me the Hispanic vote!
“In English: Vote for me and I’ll throw you a bone!
“Sometimes I think we’ve gone from the White House to the doghouse. Help! Help! My administration is going to the dogs!
“All you need to do to make me happy is rub my tummy and re-elect me president. In that order.
“Standing here in the Heartbreak Hotel, the only possible conclusion is: ‘Well, I’ll be doggone!’
“Look, you can’t insult the Paloos, they don’t get any of this lingo!
“To my Indonesian brothers, I say, ‘A Salaam Aleikum.’ I grew up in Denver, Colorado. I know what it feels like to be a minority of one. At least in D.C., I can hang wid de home boys. Y’hear? I is real! Not like some latte-complexioned niggahs who forgets who they is!
“See, here, y’all! Not bein’ in Wash, D.C., I can finally say this stuff!
“Gotcha!
“No worries. I’ll blame the crazy stuff on jet-lag.
“We may not have won here in Palookaville, but we don’t intend to lose. ‘Graveyard of empires,’ my ass!
“See y’all back in Washington! Be well! G’night!”
– an excerpt from the up-coming novel
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