Sunday, September 20, 2009

If I Were President

(I, The President of the United States, am addressing a joint session of Congress.)

“And I make this solemn vow that not one dime will be spent on healthcare for illegal immigrants.”

(A lone voice is heard from somewhere in the crowd, loud and insistent like a drunk at a ball game.)


(There is a sudden hush as the crowd recovers from this. Several gasps are audible. I, The President, stare silently into the crowd as if searching for the offending party. My eyes seem to lock, laser-like, onto another’s as I stand perfectly still. The Vice President says to me, “Mr. President?” I speak.)

“You son of a bitch!”

(In seconds I am clambering over chairs and other Congressmen as my hands seek out, almost as if they were acting of their volition, the throat of the noisy legislator.)

“Someone stop the President!”

“I can’t! He’s too fast!”

(I, The President, am now tightly squeezing the neck of the unfortunate Congressman, banging his head rhythmically against the floor with the cadence of my words.)


“Mr. President, stop!”


(The Congressman makes a series of strangled sounds that seem to resemble “Yes…sir!”)

“Take this trash outside,” I say to a couple of security guards as I return to the podium.

“Now,” I continue, brushing the dust from the sleeves of my jacket, “anybody else want to say something?”

(A busily mumbled chorus of “No”s fill the chamber.)

“Yeah, didn’t think so. You might want to stop Twittering, too, if you know what’s good for you.”


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