BARBARA BUSH: My goodness, what an enthusiastic howdy! I commend my son's advance team for so carefully vetting such boisterous hollerers! I hope that most of you are not still too sore from my ticket-window loyalty interrogations. While some of you that are more darkly complected may not be able to sit down – or recoil several years hence when you see bare electrical wires – you would know that it was all worth it if only you could glimpse beyond my deliberately cheap looking pearls and into my heart. If you were actually able to locate my heart, you would realize how much it means to this old, former First Lady to stand before a crowd so vocal in its adoration of my prodigal son that its cheers will barely need to be sweetened in post-production at FOX News.

Before I signal security to revive my daughter-in-law and we begin with Laura's Town Hall Meeting, allowing her to get to her spontaneous responses to your candid concerns, I want to address two matters before anyone fires up those television cameras. That's right. I'm talking to you local ABC affiliate. Turn that goddamned thing off.

Ok. First, your questions have been provided to you, neatly typed, double-spaced, on index cards. The green cards are for questions about what an unbelievably excellent job Georgie is doing and how angry you are about the liberal media never reading off the names of servicemen who weren't killed every day. The pink cards are reserved for innuendo about John Kerry, his cowardliness, hatred of America and penis size.

I'm only going to say this once: try to read the GD questions in your heads before you stand up and try them out on Laura. Because of her marital situation, some of you may be working under the misunderstanding that she finds garbled diction and mangled syntax acceptable – even charming. I am providing all of you all with fair warning: this is not the case. If any of you show her up by making it GD obvious that the GD question is not yours, but something you are inartfully reading off a GD index card given to you by the White House, I promise you security has a little treat waiting you on the south end of Cuba that will make Alexander Solzhenitsyn's gulag look like Club Med. Remember: the hose I used at the ticket window has two ends – and is a lot more painful going out the bottom than it was going in the top. Ask Laura.

Second, we've had some problems at Laura's appearances with loudmouths abusing the First Amendment by overusing it. Free speech is just like anything else. Use it too much and you wear it out. Most people don't think of Georgie as being big on conservation, but he and Mr. Ashcroft are working hard to conserve free speech so that it will be available to future generations one hundred years from now – when the statute of limitations has run on any malfeasance inadvertently revealed in presidential paperwork. So let's not have any bellyaching by women whose GD sons have died simply because she was too GD lazy to pick up the phone and get her good friend the Lieutenant Governor to protect her little GD cheerleading pansy, candy-assed son from having to serve in Viet Nam. I meant in – oh, you know what I GD meant!

I have been given the signal that Laura has just been administered a very strong pot of Starbucks patriot-roast coffee by White House physicians, so we are about ready to start. When I raise my hands like this I want all of you to holler like you just had an armadillo stuck two feet up your ass because that means the GD cameras will be on.

[CHEERS]

No, you GD idiots. I didn't mean then. Jesus Fucking Christ, you people are stupid. OK now!

[CHEERS]

Now, it is my great pleasure to present a woman who brought my son out of the deep, hopeless well of an unacceptably ostentatious display of acute alcoholism. Of course, before that, she took him on a ten year, cheap-drugs and strong-liquor soaked bender so destructive I was always surprised the National Weather Service never named a string of hurricanes after her. But that's all tequila over the damned and I don't even know why I brought it up. Patriots, I give you, your First Lady, Laura Bush:

[CHEERS]

LAURA BUSH: Goodness gracious me, I can't tell you all how much it means to be in your state of – of –

BARBARA BUSH: Iowa!

LAURA BUSH: What?

CROWD: Iowa!

LAURA BUSH: Oh, mercy me, in Washington we pronounce it "O-hi-o." Anyway, I mean to say, I am giddy with anticipation wondering what novel, bucolic inflection or twang you charming little people will bring to the questions I have now heard at over sixty interminable campaign stops.

BARBARA BUSH: First question!

LAURA BUSH: Yes, you in that enormous calico smock.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: OK. Do you want a pink one or a green one?

LAURA BUSH: Pardon?

BARBARA BUSH: Just ask the first question that pops into your hand, I mean head.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: That Theresa Billionaire Heinz Kerry doesn't seem like a real American to me. What in the world is she?

LAURA BUSH: That is a very good question. It is my understanding that she is an African. Now, frankly, that didn't make a lot of sense to me because her nails are so short. But Karl Rove told me that she is actually not just passing as an American, she is also passing as a normal Caucasian person. As near as I can tell, she is somewheres between an Octoroon and a High-Yellow. Funny story: I had a yellow lab as a girl and his fur was so white – like a polar bear – I called him Old High Yellar.

BARBARA BUSH: Laura! Next question!

AUDIENCE MEMBER: Mrs. Bush, as a member of Free Republic dot com, a mother of 12 wonderful America-loving children and a patriot, I want to commend you for so bravely putting up with the rudeness of that despicable Sue Niederer woman last week.

LAURA BUSH: Was she the one running her mouth off about some son being killed in Iraq? Whaaa-waaaa-waaa! [chuckles] I'm sure you wouldn't get all ungrateful if one of your children died in combat.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: Well, like your children, none of my children volunteered like that Commie traitor's son.

BARBARA BUSH: Well, if you ask me, that little whiner got off mighty easy by just being roughed up by the crowd, handcuffed and arrested. With all that "Four More Years" the crowd did to drown out her seditious bellyaching, no one heard me screaming: "Let me at 'er!" If the Secret Service had just let me get my brass pearls out of my shoulder bag, I could have winged that little griper and taught a lesson to all ungrateful mothers who don't appreciate the favor my Bushie has done by allowing their children to meet Jesus a full 60-or-so years before they were scheduled.

LAURA BUSH: All that "my son is dead" fiddle faddle is so unseemly when folks are here to smile, clap and hold up cheerful signs they were given at the door. How can my hubby be expected to worry about some silly woman's child being blown into pieces all over some filthy sand? The poor thing is run ragged campaigning 24-7. He's so busy working for his reelection, he doesn't even have time to protect America from terrorists here at home, much less pander to exhibitionists who cry in public instead of resorting to a lovely warm scotch behind closed doors like decent people in pain with manners do.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: Speaking of your Iraq, Mrs. Bush, can you name even one person who has been killed there as a result of your husband's monomaniac preoccupation with Saddam Hussein?

CROWD: Four more years! Four more years! Four more years! Four more years! Four more years!

LAURA BUSH: That sure as shooting doesn't sound like a pre-approved questions from a pre-approved person to me.

Bar, slip the leash on those Rottweilers.

AUDIENCE MEMBER (being carried out): Well, can you?

CROWD: Four more years! Four more years! Four more years! Four more years! Four more years!

[gunshot]

BARBARA BUSH: I told you nitwits to use a silencer on those GD things!

LAURA BUSH: Mercy! To think that I couldn't name one of the twelve people killed in Iraq! Some people must think I don't care. And I do – deeply. It broke my heart when I saw that movie of the week and that cute-as-a-button Jessica Lynch woman passed on.

BAR BRA BUSH: (whispers to Laura) The bitch didn't die.

LAURA BUSH: See? Things are going wonderfully in Iraq. There are just oodles of wonderful folks who haven't been turned into a bleeding puddle of mangled flesh over there in that Iraq place. Jumping Jehosaphat, I don't know why all these dang service people are always complaining about having half their blue-collar bodies turned into fabulous new prosthetics. As any woman married over ten years can tell you, most male body parts can be replaced with plastic. And be heaps better than the original!

AUDIENCE MEMBER: Mrs. Bush, I love your husband. However -

BARBARA BUSH: However? However? SECURITY!

LAURA BUSH: Goodness! I want to thank the lady in the green plaid flannel for so quickly subduing that traitor before she could poison this room with her pinko-lib "however" propaganda. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to top off my absolutely 100% alcohol-free refreshing beverage with one of these cute little airplane bottles I scored on Air Force One while that impertinent America-hater can be dragged out into the parking lot where, I'm sure, the torrential rain will eventually revive her.

Jiminy Cricket, I've got the munchies!

BARBARA BUSH: That's it. Turn those GD cameras OFF! This spontaneous town hall meeting is over.

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