“Now, I want this career day with these first graders to go well, so all of you be on your best behavior,” Laura Bush warned, “and I swear, Donald, if you strangle anyone today, I’ll give you a talking to you won’t believe.”
“Do I have to sit next to Tom Daschle?” Bush complained.
“Yes,” Laura answered, “if Donald’s going to make the best effort not to strangle anyone, then the least I can do is not put him next to Tom Daschle.”
“I told you to bring Condi instead,” Bush said.
“I don’t like that woman,” Laura shot back, “Now let’s go into the classroom and meet the kids.”
They entered the room as the teacher announced. “I have a special treat for you today, children. Laura Bush has brought four people from the government to talk to you about their jobs. So let’s all be on our best behavior.”
“That’s goes for all of you, too,” Laura warned as the four of them, the Marine, Tom Daschle, George W. Bush, and Donald Rumsfeld, who took seats in front of the class.
“I guess I’ll start,” said the Marine, “My name is Buck, Buck the Marine. My job is to kill foreigners. There are a lot of foreigners running around out there, so I have my work cut out for me. I just got back from Iraq. There were a lot of foreigners there, and there are now many less.”
“So what do you like best about your job?” the teacher asked.
“I’d have to say the kill’n. Now, you can’t just kill any foreigners, you have to follow your orders and only kill certain ones. As in Iraq, some were shooting at me, so I killed them. That was fun. Some threw down their weapons and raised their hands; I don’t like that because then I can’t kill them… especially not with them embedded reporters watching. I thought of killing the embedded reporter, but he ain’t foreign. I only kill foreigners.”
“What was it like liberating an Iraqi town?” asked the teacher.
“That had its high points and low points. Some Iraqis sniped at me, so I killed them; that was fun. Some cheered me on; couldn’t kill them. A little Iraqi girl walked up and said, ‘I love America.’ That made me happy… but not as much as killing.”
“Now children, do you have any questions for Buck?”
“How do you kill people?” asked a little boy.
“Usually with my M-16. Sometimes with my .45 caliber sidearm; 9mm is for pussies.”
“We don’t use that kind of language in class, Buck,” the teacher politely told him.
“Sorry. Ma’am. Anyway, my favorite weapon for killing is my KaBar. I sneak up behind someone, stab him in the kidneys and hold it in; you can’t scream with a blade in your kidneys. Then, when he finally goes into shock, I pull the blade out and slit his throat. It’s a very effective method. I recommend you try it sometime.”
“My mom came from another country; would you kill her?” a concerned little girl asked.
“If so ordered, yes, I would kill your mom. Any other questions?”
“What do you do now?”
“Right now I am on leave. I hang out with friends, drink, and talk about all my killing. I’m hoping something will happen soon in North Korea, though; never killed a Korean. Anyway, right now I have killed more people than the SARS virus, but that could change if I don’t get out in the field again soon.”
“Buck, why don’t you tell them what you have to do to become a Marine,” the teacher suggested.
“Certainly. You have to go through boot camp. There they will put you through hell. They will break down your body. They will break down your mind. They will break down your spirit. You will beg for mercy. You will not get it. You will beg for death. It will not come. If you survive – and I mean ‘if’ – you will be a Marine. Then you can kill foreigners. So who wants to be a Marine?”
The kids just stared at him bewildered, none of them raising their hands.
“What are you all? Fags?”
“Buck, we don’t use that kind of language here,” the teacher warned again.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Now, Tom Daschle, why don’t you tell the class what you do.”
“Certainly. First of all, I would like to say how grateful I am for Buck’s service in our military.”
Buck stared at Daschle for a moment. “I don’t think I like you.”
“I get that a lot,” Daschle said, laughing, “Anyway, children, I am a U.S. Senator. I help vote for what becomes our laws.”
“You’re a devil man!” screamed one child.
“Yes, I seem to radiate off sort of sinister vibe that young children pick up on,” Daschle explained, “Commonly, babies cry when I come near. Most people, though, as they grow older no longer sense my evil so easily, and then may vote for me.”
“My dad says you’re a mean man who takes his money,” said a little boy.
“I think that you’re dad is just being selfish to try and keep his money. As a Senator, I’m better equipped to know how to spend people’s money. And we’ll be able to take even more money into our loving care if we Democrats can get a majority in 2004.”
“Yeah, that will happen,” Bush chuckled.
“It’s not your turn, Mr. Bush,” the teacher told him firmly, “Let Daschle speak. Now, Daschle, what does one have to do to become a Senator?”
“I think it’s a good idea to first become a lawyer. That helps erode away your soul, which is an obstacle in politics. Then I say you need to act concerned about lots of things and talk down to people. And it’s good to have a believable smile.” Daschle then smiled, causing the class to cry.
“Make the scary man go away!” cried one girl.
“Maybe it’s time for George Bush to speak,” the teacher said, “Tell the class what your job is.”
“I’m the President of the United States,” Bush said proudly, “The most powerful man in the world. Maybe the universe. Within at least a few light-years from here, for sure, though. It’s a fun job. I miss signing off all those executions like when I was governor, but instead I can declare wars now and kill even more bad people. You know that Iraqi war? That was my idea.”
“And would just like to say I supported the troops,” Daschle added, “but I was saddened how your botched diplomacy forced us into conflict.”
“Oh, and I always had something I wanted to say in response to that,” Bush said. He then turned to his side and punched Daschle in the face.
“You broke my nose!” Daschle screamed.
“People say I sometimes garble my words, but I think I was pretty clear there,” Bush chuckled.
“There is no hitting in class!” the teacher yelled. “Daschle, you can go to the nurse. Bush, you’re getting a demerit.”
“I’m going to tell!” Daschle cried, running off.
“Crybaby,” Bush uttered.
Laura smacked him on the back of the head. “You’re embarrassing me.”
The teacher added Bush’s name to a list on the wall and put a frowny face next to it.
“Ha ha!” laughed a kid, “Bush got a demerit!”
“What’s your name kid?”
“Uh… Tommy.”
“Tommy what?”
“Tommy… Anderson.”
“Well, guess what? The Andersons are about to get audited. It’s going to be so stressful to your parents that they’ll get divorced and it will be all your fault.”
“George!” Laura yelled.
“What? He was making fun of me.”
“Why don’t you explain more of your job,” the teacher told him.
“Alright. I have to keep the world from imploding, since the rest of the countries are a bunch of idiots. The worst is France. How can I describe this to you… France is kinda like that kid in class everyone hates who reminds the teacher to give out homework.” He then pointed to a geeky looking kid wearing glasses. “Probably that kid; he’s France.”
“But without homework,” the kid responded, “how are we going…”
“Quiet, France. I’m tired of dealing with you.”
“Do you have questions for Mr. Bush?” the teacher asked the class.
“My mom says you didn’t really win the election,” said one boy.
“She said that, huh,” Bush answered, looking a bit annoyed, “Well I want you to go home and bitch-slap her for me. And she can’t ground you for it, because I pardon you.”
“George!” Laura shouted.
“What?” Bush said innocently.
“You don’t seem that powerful to me,” said one kid.
“I am powerful.”
“Are not.”
“Are so!” Bush yelled, rising out of his seat.
The kid just stuck his tongue out.
“I’ll show you!” Bush shouted, grabbing a nearby globe, “I’ll just pick a country and bomb it.”
“Whatever,” the kid said dismissively.
“Don’t do this, George!” Laura warned.
Bush spun the globe and then stopped it with his finger. “The United States! I’ll bomb the… oh, better spin again.” He spun the globe once more and stopped it. “Hmm… I don’t know how to say this one, but I can’t just spell it for them,” he said as he took out his cell phone. “Hey, I want you to bomb a country spelled K-Y-R-Y-G-Z-stan… Just do it… I don’t have to give you a reason why…” Bush looked to the kid with a haughty expression, “I’m the president.”
Laura just shook her head.
Bush turned on a T.V. that was at the corner of the room. “After the success of the Iraqi war, a new era of peace is spreading through the Middle East,” the news anchor said, “Experts say democracy will soon flourish and… This just in. The U.S. has launched an unprovoked attack against Kyrygzstan. Who knows what diplomatic damage this will do to the U.S. and to how it is viewed around the world. It could take years to repair…”
Bush turned off the T.V. “Told ya!” he said, and then stuck his tongue out at the kid.
“So what does someone have to do to become president?” the teacher asked, trying to take control again of the class.
“I think it helps if your father was president,” Bush said, sitting back down, “and better make sure your stupid brother doesn’t mess up the voting in his state.”
“Could I one day be president?” asked a boy.
“No, you’re too fat.”
“George!” Laura yelled, hitting Bush on the head.
“Uh… I mean, if you work really hard, you could become president, despite your tubbiness.”
“I think it’s now Donald Rumsfeld’s turn,” the teacher said, “So what is your job.”
“I am the Secretary of War.”
“Defense,” Laura corrected him.
“Whatever they now call it,” he said with annoyance, “My job is to make sure America strikes fear into the heart of all other nations. It was through my lobbying that I made sure we had this Iraq war.”
“I want to thank you for that,” Buck said.
“Glad you enjoyed the war,” Rumsfeld answered, “There will be more to come.”
“My parents say you’re an evil warmonger,” said a little girl.
Rumsfeld stared at her for a few seconds. “After this, I’m going to follow you home and murder your family.”
“Donald!” Laura yelled, “I told you no threatening the children!”
“Why don’t you tell us more about what your job requires?” the teacher urged.
“Certainly. A Secretary of Defense must thirst for blood. He must love nothing more than to see the enemy cower before him, begging for mercy. But you must not be merciful. The enemy will see that as weakness, and we must never show weakness, for we are the United States of America.”
“Ooh-rah!” Buck added.
“Are you going to kill and eat us?” asked a scared little child.
Rumsfeld considered this for a little while. “Not at this time,” he finally answered.
“So what exactly do you do at your job?” the teacher asked.
“Other than the war planning and the thirsting for blood, I have to give press conferences and talk to idiot reporters. I would like to kill them all, but then next week there would just be a new set of reporters, even dumber than the last. One time there was…”
“I like the reporter with the big mustache,” said a little boy.
“That child spoke out of turn; have him beaten,” Rumsfeld ordered the teacher.
“We don’t ‘beat’ children anymore,” the teacher responded, “That’s child abuse.”
“Poppycock! When I was their age, if you were bad, they had this large stick they would beat you with for hours with. And, if you were good, they had an even bigger stick to beat you with. Beatings made you tougher, so it was a privilege to be pummeled.”
“I’m confused,” said one kid, “You said before you were a secretary, but I thought a secretary was the woman who gets people coffee.”
“You children are insolent!” Rumsfeld shouted, pulling out his luger, “Line up for execution!”
Laura grabbed the luger away. “I told you no guns at career day.”
“That’s my luger!” Rumsfeld protested.
“You’ll get it back after class if you’re good.”
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld yelled, but Laura just kept staring back at him sternly.
“Why don’t you tell the kids what they need to do if they want to be a Secretary of Defense,” the teacher said.
“None of them can be Secretary of Defense; they are too weak and stupid.”
“Don’t say things like that,” the teacher chided him, “Give them a positive message.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Rumsfeld yelled, reaching for the teacher’s throat.
Laura pushed him back into his chair. “No strangling!” she yelled at him, “Not at an event I organized.”
“I think the children have learned enough for today,” the teacher said, “I want to thank you all for giving us your time today. Certainly pass that message on to Daschle when you see him again.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass him a message,” Bush chuckled, hitting his fist into his palm.
“We’re all going to O’Malley’s after this,” Buck announced to the kids, “You can meet us there, have a few beers, and I can tell you more about killing foreigners.”
“Cool!” Bush exclaimed, “We’ll have a game of darts.”
“Just make sure to drive Donald home if he gets tipsy,” Laura told Bush.
“Are you saying I can’t hold my liquor, woman!” Rumsfeld demanded angrily.
“You know he’s a mean drunk,” Laura whispered to Bush, “So be careful.”
“Hell, he’s a mean sober,” Bush said, “Drunk, he’s a WMD.”
“I sneak up behind someone, stab him in the kidneys and hold it; you can’t scream with a blade in your kidneys. Then, when he finally goes into shock, I then slit his throat. It’s a very effective method. I reccomend you try it sometime.”
I’ll have to remember that . . . .
This was the best IMW since you got your monkey head!
Wow, better than coffee for that early morning jolt. M
So that’s why Rumsfeld went to Iraq….he’s a WMD.
Frank, you are quickly becoming my hero….. Please keep Buck around. It’s refreshing to see a character who has killed more people than SARS, more people than cancer, more people than…… Rumsfeld. In the words of one of my favorite Marines, Major Payne: ‘must be SOMEONE who needs some killin’
“Quiet, France. I’m tired of dealing with you.”
Quite possibly the best quip yet.
Raar!
Meanwhile, in a super-sized Frank’s world……
Best IMW yet, keep em coming… This was made even funnier by the fact that I was watching Rumsfeld’s Q&A session with the troops at the same time. The man has a surprising sense of humor… “That’s a diplomatic solution. I’m not good at diplomacy, if you haven’t noticed.”
“I think it’s a good idea to first become a lawyer. That helps erode away your soul, which is an obstacle in politics. Then I say you need to act concerned about lots of things and talk down to people. And it’s good to have a believable smile.” Daschle then smiled, causing the class to cry.”
That one almost made me lose my coffee. Keep it up Frank …
“I think it’s a good idea to first become a lawyer. That helps erode away your soul, which is an obstacle in politics. Then I say you need to act concerned about lots of things and talk down to people. And it’s good to have a believable smile.” Daschle then smiled, causing the class to cry.”
That one almost made me lose my coffee. Keep it up Frank …
Drunk, he’s a WMD.
Yeah, and he’s our WMD.
Hoo-rah!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
I am the Secretary of War.
Defense
Whatever.
“I’m going to follow you home and murder your parents.”
I can’t stop laughing…
I think Laura is wildly underrated. It cracks me up to see her riding herd on the Bush posse.
And then she takes Rumsfield’s gun…
Can you imagine this as a skit on Saturday Night Live – or better yet on SouthPark?
“Pants, meet pee.”
Snorting cola out your nose hurts, but isn’t as bad as laughing so hard you wet your pants.
HA, I wish I knew how to use trackback.
I think you click the trackback box, and then use the URL it gives you there in the URL’s to ping box (I just figured this out for the first time yesterday).
Perversly, this helps so much after having to interact with my asinine college buddy and her shack-up who are old enough to know better, and are still ($#%*&^) leftists….
Career Day
It’s Career Day at IMAO and Frank has the skinny on what happened when Laura Bush took hubby, Tommy D.,
Awesome. Best one yet. Without IMW I don’t think I could make it through the week. Thank you Frank ‘J’. You are an American treasure.
That was fantastic. Quite possibly the best thing I’ve read in a long time. My favorite part:
“I think it’s now Donald Rumsfeld’s turn,”
the teacher said, “So what is your job.”
“I am the Secretary of War.”
“Defense,” Laura corrected him.
I still laugh out loud reading that . . .
Frank, you are clearly an American Hero.
I could never see this as a Saturday Night Live skit, because SNL isn’t this funny.
This stuff is uncanny, man. And I have a discriminating sense of humor, too. I died in laughter when I got the point where Rumsfeld went “RARR!” and Laura merely returned a stern glare.
This was great! I want to see more of the Marine and the Fox News Reporter!
I was going to point out the parts that were especially funny to me, but I was just copying almost the entire story. The parts with Laura, to me, are not as funny as the rest. I think I’m in the minority on that, though.
“If so ordered, yes, I would kill your mom. Any other questions?”
Funny, man.
Excellent. I’ve posted notice of this story with a link at Killing Goliath Blog.
LoL The funniest one yet, in my opinion.
Wow, that’s (almost) all I can say. Rarely does satire get this lifelike, it’s almost creepy how close you must be to what’s in their heads. has anyone linked Rumsfeld to this site yet? I’m guessing he would silently love it. One of your top musings.
This is by far the funniest thing I’ve read in a long long time. Political humor has always been a wonderful part of society. Thank God someone wrote this.
You’re a devil man! screamed one child.
Cracked me up.
And I love the way Laura is the “mother hen” for all these guys. There’s no one else who can take away Rummy’s luger and not suffer consequences…
I love Buck. More Buck please.
Frank, Frank, Frank…
How do you do it? You keep “raising the bar” for yourself. I read an IMW, die laughing, have one of my minions resurrect me and say “No way he can top that!” Then, three days later, you do…
The Rummy/Buck counterplay was great…more, please.
Great one, Frank.
You know, you need more of the Laura/Condi fighting going on. They need to just get totally fed up with each other and start tearing at each other. Then, when they’re down to their lingerie, they can…wait…I’m sorry, seems I’m typing my interior monologue. My bad.
Keep up the good work (lingerie!)
As to seeing this on SNL, I agree with Jeff B. They could never pull it off. It would be cool, however, to see this acted out. Right-wingers need satire comedy troop like the left has in SNL. We already have a world class script writer in Frank J. Sir, you are wise beyond your years.
Now, Frank, really. What the hell are you doing, writing this stuff for FREE??? You could get paid for this – I would pay MONEY to read stuff this funny and I am not kidding. And the others are right – SNL isn’t good enough for you. Not even close. You’re about 100 times funnier than the SNL writers, and I’m not exaggerating.
Anyway, you said once you liked hearing which parts we think are funniest – well, that would entail pretty much pasting the entire thing here and saying “this part!” But in this particular post, the first paragraph that made me spew my drink all over my desk was:
“I guess I’ll start,” said the Marine, “My name is Buck, Buck the Marine. My job is to kill foreigners. There are a lot of foreigners running around out there, so I have my work cut out for me. I just got back from Iraq. There were a lot of foreigners there, and there are now many less.”
And then like 25 other lines made me spew my beverage, too. I need an IMAO Monitor Protection Device!
I lurve Frank!!
My favorite part that has yet to be mentioned has to be:
“Are you going to kill and eat us?”
“Not at this time.”
I could just see Rumsfeld thinking it over.
My School Never Had a Career Day Like This!
Frank over at IMAO imagines what a grade school Career Day featuring some of our nation’s leaders might be like.
If anyone ever decides to get that right-wing comedy troop together, drop me a line. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.
Actually, I have sent this URL to my roommate, who works for Rumsfeld. Something tells me that he hasn’t had the spine to forward it on to Rummy hisself, though.
Another great “In My World.” Be sure to give us more of Buck the Marine, and the Fox News Reporter. And Condi! More Condi! Condi, and her studmuffin, Buck the Marine. Yeah, that’s the ticket!
“Quiet, France. I’m tired of dealing with you.”
For some reason, this is my favorite line, provoking guffaws every time I read it.
“Could I one day be president?” asked a boy
“No, you’re too fat.”
“George!” Laura yelled, hitting Bush on the head.
All I love the Daschel stuff. I can hear every word coming out of his mouth in his slow calm drowsy cadence.
Thanks, Frank. Great as always!!
Thanks for all the feedback, everyone!
In case you were curious, my favorite parts were the indignant reaction of Buck to no one wanting to be a Marine, Bush proving he is powerful, Bush telling the kid he is too fat to be president, Rummy threatening to kill the little girl’s family, and Rummy telling the kids to line up for execution.
Also, I think I want to have more of Laura Bush in the future.
“You are insolent….line up for execution.”
This is the funniest one yet by far.
Look out, CNN
Some time ago, a parody story was posted over on LGF that was picked up by a Middle-Eastern news agency as real news. If I recall correctly, the story was something along the lines of Palestinians cheering the Columbia disaster…
That was the funniest damn thing I have ever read. Thank you. You need to consider making a book, it would be a bestseller.
This was an absolute scream!!!!!!!!!!!! Nice going.
It was okay, except Rummy never got to shoot anyone. And why does he carry that wussy Luger — it’s a Eurogun, fer goshsakes.
Since Laura confiscated his Luger, can I give him one of my .44 Mags?
Kim,
Rummy has a decent arsenal, so I wouldn’t worry. That weapons just has sentimental value to him. We’re he ever really to take care of business, he has twin 1911’s for the occasion.
The weirdest thing happened to me last night!
I went to sleep on the sofa (don’t ask) and then awoke this morning in a pretzel shape and with memories of a nightmare involving Pres. Bush!
And he was straight out of In My World!
In the movie, I mean dream, the Pres. came to my house unaccompanied and rang the doorbell, just so that he could tell me I was being let go from my job as an interpreter specially assigned to the Pres., the pinnacle of my career.
What’s worse, in talking to me he exhibited the same air of an overgrown kid used to getting his way as in IMW – a deadly mix of Alfred E. Newman and Emperor Nero.
You know it’s time to get off the computer when the Internet starts taking over your unconscious mind.
Buck the marine rules. I want to see more of him!
“Sometimes with my .45 caliber sidearm. 9mm is for pussies.”
“We don’t use that kind of language in class, Buck,” the teacher politely told him.
You are seriously hurting me, man. I need some oxygen….
An Insane Time Was Had By All
Over in Frank’s World, Rummy and a few of his friends went to Career Day at the local school. Frank isn’t all fun and games, though. He can also be dead serious: As when he gives you the complete rundown
I nearly lost a lung, a kidney, and some other assorted organs from the laughter that engendered. Bless you, Frank J, bless you.
Frank!
You’ve gotta publish a book, titled– what else? –“In My World.” I WOULD BUY IT!
I can just see Laura Bush smacking her husband on the back of the head…heeheehee. Too funny. You are a comic genius. Truly the best yet.
I dont know how I missed this one…I saw it linked when you were posting your poll on which character we should keep…dammit to hell…need to start drinking more coffee in the morning.
My parents say you’re an evil warmonger,” said a little girl.
Rumsfeld stared at her for a few seconds. “After this, I’m going to follow you home and murder your family.”
Hilarious, Frank, this has been your best one in a while. Keep em comin…I’d like to see Buck AND the Fox Reporter stay.
-Jeff
Best ever. Period.
Seriously Frank, you need to do at least one episode of South Park. Maybe Rummy could kill Kenny. (just for old times sake, of course.)
IMAO: The Motion Picture
WOW. Frank at IMAO IS a brilliant creative mind, and I’ve worked with some darn good ones, at least in the ad world. I have a little idea like using Jenna Jameson as the Fox Reporter in Frank’s latest opus, In My World: Black Project Insano, and he tur…
“You broke my nose!” Daschle screamed.
“People say I sometimes garble my words, but I think I was pretty clear there,” Bush chuckled.
Mm Mm Good…
Bush spun the globe and then stopped it with his finger. “The United States! I’ll bomb the… oh, better spin again.”
Hilarious
The brown potato walks the woodlands at night.
OH MY GOD THATS SO FREAKIN HILARIOUS!!!!! MORE BUCK!!!
OH MY GOD THATS SO FREAKIN HILARIOUS!!!!! MORE BUCK!!!
Buck stared at Daschle for a moment. “I don’t think I like you.”
“I get that a lot,” Daschle said, laughing, “Anyway, children, I am a U.S. Senator. I help vote for what becomes our laws.”
“You’re a devil man!” screamed one child.
“Yes, I seem to radiate off sort of sinister vibe that young children pick up on,” Daschle explained, “Commonly, babies cry when I come near. Most people, though, as they grow older no longer sense my evil so easily, and then may vote for me.”
That’s the best. I cracked up in class. My professor wasn’t too happy but when is the evolution of man going to bome in handy? I’m a Christian I don’t believe in evolution. Stupid teachers.
Buck… You are my hero…
Buck you kick fricken ass!!!
“Quiet France, I’m tired of dealing with you”
I love it!
I love Buck, we really need more of him. And a big congrats to all out armed forces out there doing their job.