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THE MEAT PUPPET MONOLOGUES
Don’t Ask
Me No Questions, And I Won’t Tell You No Lies
 (Calgary,
Alberta) Fresh off the heels of the worst presidency in the
history of the United States, George “Tall Tale” Bush launched
his revisionist history crusade here under the guise of a
dignified speaking tour geared largely toward legacy
resuscitation and the lining of his pockets with the hard-earned
cash of those gullible enough to listen to him without the lure
of hurling hard-soled projectiles in his general direction.
The Potato
has learned that tour organizers, fearing the worst, looked long
and hard for a “safe” environment to launch this freak show,
finally settling on Calgary for its location outside the United
States and its striking similarity to Texas with its oil,
cattle, and titty bar industries. Said Bush handler, Dr. Lamar
Throttlebottom, “We find that the patient, er, I mean president
is more lucid and responsive when operating in an environment
that is similar to his native habitat.” Added the former
president, “They git my lingo!”
Be that as
it may, with the launch venue set the next challenge was to
craft a format for the intercourse that would play to dubya’s
strengths while distracting attention from his glaring
failures. However, after serious consideration, it was decided
that having dubya showcase his ability to huff an entire
eight-ball while consuming a fifth of tequila in a matter of
minutes and simultaneously playing a little toot on Big Dick’s
skin flute would probably not yield the desired impact on his
campaign to reframe his legacy. So they opted to take their
chances in sidestepping dub’s abundant collection of gaffes,
missteps and outright clusterfucks.
Having
witnessed dubya’s impression of an angry old lunatic during the
third and final press conference of his 2,920-day
all-expense-paid vacation at Casa Blanco, any thought of letting
the former Wingnut & Chief speak openly in front of a group of
sleepy Canadians would make about as much sense as letting a
yard-ape roam freely through the control room at NORAD. Again,
Dr. Throttlebottom, “What we are dealing with here is a unique,
genetic monstrosity, not too far removed from the primate
family, that requires careful monitoring and education via the
carrot and stick approach using cocaine pellets and high-voltage
electric shocks.
“The
subject was placed in a controlled environment, simulating the
bright lights and murmuring crowd noises that would be
encountered on tour, and required to answer all questions with
one of the following responses:
· I didn’t
do it
· That was
Dick’s job
· Never
heard of him (her)
· It wasn’t
my fault
· What’s
Gitmo?
 “After
several sessions, the smoke emanating from the subject’s ears
led us to believe that a format with random questions from the
audience was out of the question.”
Finally,
it was decided that dubya’s inputs and outputs would be fully
scripted with a handler on stage manning the electrodes attached
to his small, yet still sensitive, reproductive organ to keep
him from wavering off course, as per his days as a snuff pilot
during the Vietnam war. All that remained was a title for the
“monologue”. After turning down such titles as “Interview with
a Wimpire”, “Dodger & Me” and “Stupid is as Stupid Does”, the
promoters settled on “A Conversation with George W. Bush”.
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