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THE PRESIDENT: Good afternoon. Please be seated. As you know, this morning Senator Trent Lott pretended to voluntarily relinquish the position of Senate Majority Leader. And while I was saddened to semi-violently force his hand in the matter, I was left with no other choice, what with the news media having suddenly awakened from a decades-long journalistic coma and started digging around in broad daylight for dirt on GOP racism. As such, much as I applaud Senator Lott's voting record on keeping the coloreds in their place and trying to nix that dumb Martin Lawrence King Day thing, unfortunately, the black cat's out of the body bag, and so Trent must go.

I'd like to thank my Republican brethren for feigning just enough outrage to oil the cogs of my wonderfully two-faced plan (hands-off in public, hands around the sucker's throat in private) to oust this annoying tattletale. No one likes a snitch who refers on national TV to private stuff Republicans speak of joyously over cocktails behind closed, locked doors. And I'd also like the thank the enemy of all that is good in America, the Democrats, for once again not having the gonads to publicly call us on our fancy footwork to distance ourselves from our own message. It's a whole lot easier to make up this stuff as we go along when our opposition is a bunch of pussies too afraid to point out all the inconsistencies! Except that damned stain between two spotless, Godly and perfect presidencies called Bill Clinton. That man has no shame – or sense of deference to my omnipotence.

Today, I am joined by Senator Bill Frist of Tennessee, who unlike Senator Lott, is just the kind of rich white Southern male who can successfully create the illusion that the GOP is inclusive and benevolent. Take it away, Bill.

SENATOR FRIST: Thank you, Mr. President. As you know, I am a doctor. And speaking from professional experience, what the country needs now is heavy, amnesia-inducing sedation. For the past few weeks, America has been hysterical over the damagingly candid words spoken by Wizard Lott. And so today, I ask my Senatorial brothers to let me be that sedation, a calming presence - a walking bottle of Roofies as it were - because you know, it's darn near impossible to cut open some ignorant black Medicaid patient and harvest their non-essential organs for sale on the black market without them being totally and blissfully zonked out to the point of brain damage on political ether. I pledge to be that anesthetic, boldly pretending to be something other than a nigra-hating millionaire WASP. I will put on such a fuzzy, smiling facade, Josef Goebbels himself will weep with pride in H-E-L-L!

And yes, as a Southern Republican, I will gallantly continue my party's grand tradition of jerking off that small, treasured minority of wealthy redneck bigots, while also enjoying the magical negro stylings of Denzel, Whitney, and Eminem.

(Applause.)

THE PRESIDENT: We could ask no more of you, Bill. Welcome to the big leagues, brother.

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