Part I
Part II
Part III

“Is it true that the president was lost on the way to his negotiations with North Korea?”
“That’s ridiculous,” White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan answered, “He’s right on schedule.”

“Are these people looking more Korean and less Chinese to you?” Bush asked.
“Looking kinda Korean,” the president of Micronesia, Joseph Urusemal, answered.
“Nope. Not Korean yet,” Buck the Marine stated.

“And where are the rest of Bush’s cabinet? There are rumors about them being involved in some sort of fighting competition.”
“That’s crazy; they’re hard at work,” Scott assured the reporters.

“Are you really wearing those stiletto heel boots for the street fighting competition?” Laura asked incredulously.
“Part of street fighting is style,” Condoleezza Rice answered.
“’nuff girl talk!” Cheney shouted, “I want to crack some skulls. There’s nothing like illegal street fighting.”
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld added.
“While we’re here, though, is anybody looking after my husband?” Laura asked with concern.
“Chomps, go check on Bush,” Rumsfeld told his dog, “If he’s in trouble, take care of the trouble. If he’s making friends with Europeans, bite him.”
Chomps growled and then ran off.
“Get ready!” the fight coordinator yelled out, “and remember: the only rules are there are no rules.”
“Hey! That’s easy to remember!” Laura exclaimed excitedly.

“Anymore questions?” Scott asked the assembled press.
“Why are you so fat?”
Scott groaned. “Can we show some maturity here?”
One of the reporters shrieked. “That guy there has a laptop!”
“He could be a blogger!” another yelled.
“Let’s get out of here before he gets us all fired!” The press fled the room leaving just Scott and the one man with a laptop.
“Thanks for getting rid of those jerks,” Scott told him.
“I have some questions about Michael Gannon.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “For pete’s sake…”

“Now… uh… Entering… North… uh… Korea. Abandon All… uh… Hope… Ye Who Enter… uh… Here.” Bush turned to his two companions. “What do you think that means?”
“I think we might be to North Korea,” Urusemal offered.
“Think we should ditch the pandas we’re riding,” Bush said.
“Good, mine kept attacking me,” Urusemal said.
“You just have to punch them in the head enough to gain their respect,” Buck stated.
“Yeah, don’t be such a wuss, Joey,” Bush said, “You were the one all scared about going through the demilitarized zone.”
“Because it was full of mines!”
“See, I would have thought the opposite with the name ‘demilitarized zone,'” Bush commented, “If you were going to fill it with mines, shouldn’t you call it the ‘extra militarized zone’?”
“All I know is that it was cool to see that panda blow up,” Buck laughed.
“That’s something everyone has to see at least once in their life,” Bush stated.
Suddenly they were all surrounded by North Korean troops.
“Uh… take us to your leader,” Bush said.

Bush, Urusemal, and Buck sat at a large table. “He makes us wait to show he has power over us,” Urusemal said.
“It’s working! I’ll do whatever he says!” Bush exclaimed.
The large doors at the end of the room opened and out walked Kim Jon Il. “My hair is no longer poofy!”
“Wow,” Bush answered, “You must have finally used that coupon to Super-Kutz I gave you.”
“Yes! Hair cut now! You no longer make fun of poofy hair!”
“You still have those dumb glasses,” Bush pointed out.
“You shut up!” Jong yelled. He then looked around. “Who are these others?”
“It’s my friend Buck the Marine and President Joseph something-or-other of Micronesia so these talks are multilateral.”
“What!” Jong exclaimed, “I never heard of that country.”
“It’s a real one,” Bush replied, “Just don’t ask me to point it out on a map.”
“I could show you,” Urusemal offered, “if the map is big enough.”
“I do not care!” Jong shouted, “Did you remember your briefcase, President Bush?”
“I have it right here,” Bush said, patting the briefcase on the table.
“Briefcase go on ground!” Jong shouted, “Ground place for briefcase!”
“Fine,” Bush said, putting down the briefcase, “but, if I put the briefcase on the ground, then… uh… you have to dismantle all your nukes.”
“Okay, it agreed,” Jong agreed.
“Hey, negotiations are going great,” Bush exclaimed, “Thanks for coming, Joey.”
“Well, gosh, you know how Micronesia loves to help America.”
“Yeah, you said that like a thousand times.”
“Negotiations being done,” Jong said, “before you all go you should LOOK AT THAT WALL OVER THERE!”
Bush, Buck, and Urusemal all looked at the wall across from them. “I don’t see anything,” Bush said, “How about you, Buck?”
“Looks like a wall,” Buck answered.
“This might be a diversion,” Urusemal suggested.
Bush stared harder at the wall. “Doesn’t look like a diversion.”
“You can stop looking at the wall and go,” Jong said, “Muh hee hee hee.”
“Was someone just behind me?” Bush asked. “Oh well.” He then stood up and began to lift his briefcase. “Why’d this get so heavy all of a sudden?”
Jong tossed Bush handcuffs. “You handcuff to wrist to make sure you don’t lose it.” He then tossed another pair of handcuffs to Bush. “Why don’t you cuff it to both hands.”
“Wait!” Urusemal shouted, “I don’t think that’s your briefcase!”
“That’s crazy,” Bush said, “It’s black; my briefcase is black.”
“But it’s much larger and looks heavier,” Urusemal stated, “I think it might be a suitcase nuke.”
Bush looked again at the briefcase. “Hey! You might be right!”
“I knew multilateral talks was a bad idea!” Jong shouted as he ran out of room, “Now I go to plan B – I launch nuke at America!”
“We have to stop him!” Bush yelled, “His nukes have a 20% chance of actually hitting California. It would take out a lot of blue-staters, but it’s the principle of the thing.”
Guards swarmed into the meeting room.
“Okay, Joey, you kill all the guards while Buck and I do something about the nuke launch,” Bush said.
“Uh, usually ain’t I the one who kills everybody?” Buck asked.
“Yeah, so I thought you’d want a change of pace.”
“Nah, I like killing for’ners.”
“Fine. You do that then.”
“Ooh-rah!”
Bush turned to Urusemal. “Come with me, Joey, to stop that missile.” Bush picked up the suitcase nuke. “We better get rid of this, too.”
Bush and Urusemal ran to the next room as Buck got to kill’n. In the other room was a missile ready to launch. Up in a glass control room stood Kim Jong Il. “You will never stop me! America dies now! My hair is no longer poofy! Muh hee hee hee.”
“It’s too late to stop the launch,” Urusemal said, “but I think I see a control panel from where I can retarget the missile.”
“Good,” Bush said, “Make it target the North Pole… oh, wait, Santa Claus is there. Make it target the South Pole. We’ll be done with this soon enough.”
The door then burst open. “Yeaaaargh!”
Bush rolled his eyes. “Not now.”

“We’re to the final fight of the night,” the fight coordinator said. “On one side, we have Mongo the Destroyer. Never been beaten.” A muscle bound, seven foot man growled and pounded his fist into his palm. “On the other side is our last contender, the First Lady of Pain – Laura Bush. This former librarian will put your book under ‘P’ for ‘Pain’!”
“Actually,” Laura said, “Books are put on the shelves using the Dewey Decimal System. In the card catalogue, you might have a subject ‘Pain’ which would reference books that…”
“Just fight.”

Howard Dean knocked Bush back, slamming him against the soon to launch missile. “It’s really not time for this partisanship,” Bush pleaded, “We have a nuclear crisis.”
“Hate Republicans and all they stand for!” Dean shouted, “Kill Republicans!”
Dean charged Bush again, and Bush swung the suitcase nuke at him. “Why won’t you die!” Dean caught the suitcase and then swung it back, knocking Bush down. Dean then slammed the suitcase downwards, trying to crush Bush, but Bush rolled out of the way and handcuffed Dean’s hand to the suitcase.
“Let’s see you move toting that around,” Bush laughed. Dean then started beating Bush with the suitcase like it was a ball and chain.
Bush scrambled for cover behind the missile. Dean swung the suitcase on chain at Bush, but it got stuck on part of the missile. Dean then swung his other hand around the missile trying to grab Bush.
“The missile is reprogrammed,” Urusemal called out.
Bush handcuffed Dean’s other hand to the suitcase so that Dean was now caught with both arms wrapped around the missile. “Looks like it has a passenger now,” Bush said smugly, “Heh heh.”
“Yeaaargh!” Dean screamed as he tried to pull free. The rocket then began to launch.
“If I knew the lyrics to ‘Rocketman’, it would be really funny to sing that now,” Bush quipped.

Jong ran down his secret escape path. “Stupid American never find me! My hair is no longer poofy!” Jong then caught sight of one of his gaurds. “Good, one of my guards is here to protect me… angriest guard we have.” Jong rubbed his glasses to see better. “Actually, you look like angry dog.” Jong took his glasses off and put his face right up to the guard and squinted. “Very angry.”

Bush settled back in the White House. “Good job, Joey, at the talks.”
“Micronesia loves to help American in anyway, golly gosh,” Urusemal answered.
“Good job, too, Buck; now catch the next flight back to Iraq ’cause we’re kinda short on manpower there.”
“Yes, sir!” Buck ran out of the building.
Bush looked around. “Now where is everyone?”
The phone then rang. “You’ve reached the White House and Cheney isn’t here right now,” Bush answered.
“It’s your wife,” Laura said, “Craziest thing happened. Donald, Dick, Condi, and I all got arrested for illegal street fighting and need bail money.”
“That is crazy!” Bush exclaimed, “Especially since this is like the fourth time this happened.” Bush hung up and looked to Urusemal. “Have any cash on you, Joey?”
“Uh… yes.”
“You know all that aid we’ve given Micronesia? Well, it’s time for you to give back. Off to the police station!”

A scientist sat on the ice watching penguins waddle around. “I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere, freezing my ass off, observing stupid, flightless birds – can this get any worse?”
“Yeaaargh!” came a scream from the sky. The scientist looked up to see a missile headed his way.
“Aww… crap.”
THE END