“Numerous retired generals have called for your resignation,” a reporter said to Donald Rumsfeld. “How do you respond to this?”
“Why would I respond to the opinions of a couple retired generals?” Rumsfeld demanded angrily. He then said in a mocking voice, “‘Ooh! I’m too old for war so I’m going to retire!’ Back in my day, generals stayed on until they died in battle. I have no use for the words of those who wimped out.”
“So, have you put any thought towards resigning?” asked another reporter.
“Your questions annoy me!” Rumsfeld shouted. “I have decided to kill you all violently! Rarr!”

“Blood does not come out!” President Bush whined. “That’s it. I’m not buying you new suits every time the reporters annoy you.”
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld yelled and punched a hole in the wall.
“Fine. We’ll pay for a new suit. Calm down.”
“And more cruise missiles!”
“Okay. That too.”
Rumsfeld stormed off just as Scott McClellan came running toward Bush. “What’s the matter, fatty fat fat?” Bush asked.
“The key to my office doesn’t seem to work anymore.” Scott led Bush to a door and was unable to get the key to fit.
“Are you sure that’s your office?” Bush said. “It doesn’t have your name on it.”
Scott looked at the door. “Where did my nameplate go?”
“Let’s not worry on little things like that.” Bush held up a piece of paper and a pen. “Now sign this.”
“What is it?”
“It’s… uh… a bill. It needs a signature.”
“But you’re the one who is supposed to sign bills.”
“Then it’s a… uh… petition.” Bush shoved the pen at Scott. “Now, sign!”
“How could this be a petition? There’s only one line for a signature.” Scott grabbed the document. “Hey! This is a letter of resignation! You’re trying to get rid of me!”
“That’s just crazy,” Bush said. “You’re a crazy person, and there is no reasoning with you. I have to go talk to job applicants.”

“I sure you all have a lot of questions about Rumsfeld and Iran,” Scott told the White House Press Corps, “so let’s get started.”
“Why announce your resignation now?” a reporter asked. “Is it because you finally realized your tubby and no one likes you?”
Scott looked confused. “I’m not announcing my resignation.”
“You say you’re leaving to spend more time with your family,” said another reporter, “but isn’t it true your family doesn’t like you either?”
“No. I need this job to have money to feed my family,” Scott said with worry.
To the side, Bush appeared with Tony Snow. Bush pointed at Scott. “That’s where you’ll stand.” He then pointed to the press. “Those are the morons you’ll have to placate.”
“Are you replacing me?” Scott shouted.
“Do I have to deal with that tubby goober there with this job?” Tony asked.
“No,” Bush answered, “Just shove him out of the way.”
Tony walked over and knocked Scott to the ground.
“Ow!” Scott yelled. “You’re going to get a loyalty problem with stuff like this.”
“So what would I do with these people?” Tony asked Bush as he looked at the press. “They look dumb.”
“Just distract them with shiny things and use big words to confuse them. I don’t know any big words, so you’ll have to get those from other people.”
“Why are you considering someone from FOX News for the position of White House Press Secretary?” a reporter asked.
“You try and answer that for me,” Bush told Tony.
“FOX News is a great pool of talent,” Tony said to the press. “The station was founded when polls revealed that the American people prefer reporters and anchors who aren’t full of crap.”
“Good answer,” Bush said.
“I never got praise,” Scott whined, still lying on the ground.
“If you’re getting someone from FOX News, why wasn’t I considered?” FOX News reporter Melinda Hawkish asked angrily.
“Because you’re mean!” Bush yelled.
“I’m surprised you didn’t consider an illegal immigrant as a cheaper alternative,” she shot back.
“Who says I didn’t!”
“What’s this stack of bricks for?” Tony asked Bush.
“If a question is too dumb, just throw one of those at a reporter’s head. Go ahead and try it.”
Tony chucked a brick at the press. “Ow! My cranium!” one shouted.
“What do I do if I run out of bricks?”
Bush opened a panel on the podium revealing a hidden button. “Just press this and a heavy narcotic is released into the press which will cause them all to be very happy and easy to manipulate.”
“You never showed me that secret button!” Scott said.
“Quiet, tubby; you’ve talked enough.” Bush turned to Tony. “So, if you take the job, I’ll throw in a blank signed pardon. You can use it to get anyone off of anything… no matter how heinous the crime.”
“I can’t believe you’re replacing me,” Scott grumbled. “Will you at least help me get a new job?”
“I will use the full power of my presidency to get you a new occupation,” Bush assured him.

“Can I get fries with that?”
Scott groaned. “No. This is Taco Bell.”
“What can I get?”
Scott adjusted his paper hat. “Tacos.”