Tuesday, August 30, 2005

America groggily wakes up

Oh, God, how America's head hurts. Bejus, how many shots did America have last night, anyway? America's mouth is dry. America's head is spinning. America hates itself. "God, let me live through this hangover and I'll never drink again," America vows silently.

Where the hell is America, anyway . . . In some strange room. America's right arm is numb, asleep. A heavy weight upon it. The sound of hearty snoring.

Slowly, because movement causes pain, America turns its head to see who's sleeping beside it . . . It's George W. Bush. Bush's fuzzy head rests contentedly on America's arm. Bush's eyes are shut, his jaw slack, he's drooling a little.

America tries get its arm out from under Bush's head. Bush stops snoring, stirs, then snorts abruptly and resumes his rhythmic snore.

America chews off its own right arm.


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