THE PRESIDENT: Thank you. Thank you. Please be seated. The last three days have been a really fabulous experience for me and Laura, and we thank you all from the bottom of our hearts. You know, when you're like us and you live in the most perfect country in the world, it's not often you want to travel internationally. Indeed, once you leave today's America, you can't always depend on the willful governments of inferior lands to properly insulate you from exposure to their vulgar, bourgeois rabble. But not in the United Kingdom!

Yes, with the help of all you lisping Scotland Yard henchmen who compose this modest force of 16,000, my little visit has been as warm and smooth as any day inside the maximum-security wombs of the US military bases and GOP think-tanks that make up my only other public appearances. And for that, me and Laura are real thankful.

Get the GODLY New Book!

And so, before returning to the country which would still be yours if your ancestors hadn't been too stupid to keep wearing those bright red coats while my ancestors got all Hezbollah on their asses, I want to just say a few words of polite thanks.

First and foremost, I want to thank the entire great state of England for the fanciest photo-op ever. Without regular Brits paying for all the security and pomp and circumstance, U.S. voters would never have gotten to see me in a foreign land making nice with snaggle-toothed warmongers who speak American. And if they hadn't, well, my entire foreign policy tent just might have collapsed, fatally smothering Colin Powell's diplomo-comedy minstrel show beneath a thick blanket of bad PR.

There are also a number of individuals I'd like to thank for making me and Pickles feel so welcome.

First, I'd like to thank Prince Charles. Not only did he meet us at the airport, but he's also a non-elected pseudo-leader who never had to prove himself to get the world handed to him on a gaudy silver platter. That must be why when I look at him, it's almost like gazing in a mirror – except for the big ears and runny nose and being a total sissy faggot part and all.

Second, I want to thank Ken Livingstone, Communist mayor of London, for learning an important lesson: say what you want about me, but when I show up in some rainy little dump of a city – I can and will shut it down for as long as I want. Why? Because America has done what the Nazis couldn't: we conquered you kidney-munchers and made you thank us for it. As damned well you should have!

I'd also like to thank my dear frumpy cousin the Queen of England for the fairy tale reception she threw for me and Laura. Never let it be said that the hopelessly inbred can't be gracious hosts. You know, the main difference between England and America is that in England, the entitled rich who use their money to carve out a life of luxury protected from common trash are called "royalty." In America, we're called "Republicans." That's why you all have the House of Lords, and we have the Senate. Potato vs. hash browns. Am I right or what?

Moving on, I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Al Qaeda for that politically fortuitous terrorist attack in Turkey. Because you know, I get serious hives whenever a truly free press starts asking me questions about details and stuff, but once Osama's boys went and did their thing, the hard questions stopped, and I could slip right back into my nifty stump speech about KILLERS^TM who hate FREEDOM^®. Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd think those raghead freakazoids were blowing me a poll-boosting kiss!

Lastly, but certainly not leastly, I need to thank Prime Minister Tony Blair. Sometimes, when I'm talking to Tony-Roni about fighting for FREEDOM^®, the "special relationship" forged by Franklin D. Cripplevelt and Sir Winston Bulldog, and how we're the civilized lightness fighting against the encroaching darkness of tyranny, his eyes get all twinkly, and I think he's actually drinking the Kool-Aid. But I thank him nonetheless, because without the support of his tiny island nation, I wouldn't be able to stare into the cameras and tell America's voters that I have the world's support – without totally cracking up.

In short, thanks a million!

All you rent-a-cops can start clapping now.

(Applause.)

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