Dear Lord Jesus Christ: the Only Legitimate Savior for Anyone Who Claims to be American,
We stand here today, in the Holy Glow of Fox News BetaCam lights, mere hours after the death of that
Sherry Taivo broad, in a solemn performance of mourning for the benefit of the tongues-talking,
snake-handling American Taliban contingent, without whose votes we might not otherwise suckle
orgiastically at the engorged, hairy man-teat of corporate largesse.
CONGRESSMAN DELAY: Praise!
THE PRESIDENT: Hear us oh Lord, we, your most faithfulest servants, who do loudly proclaim our devotion
through the soaringly vacuous oratory to which you are accustomed. Please Lord, we do humbly
beseech You to follow in the noble Florsheim footprints of Your beloved Republican culture warriors, and dare
not divert Your divine attention – even for one nanosecond – from the all-important passing of
Verily, though the temptation to focus elsewhere is great, oh Lord, know that like us, Your mighty
powers mustn't be squandered on such frivolous trifles as saving the lives of untold thousands in Darfur, or
Baghdad, or Phuket, or in for-profit hospitals' emergency rooms.
SENATOR DR. FRIST: Amen!
THE PRESIDENT: Oh Lord, nor should your cherubic armies of angels be bothered to shrink pediatric tumors, feed the
hungry, or give non-illusory hope to the despondent, the downtrodden, or negroid dimebag dealers on
death row whose public defenders rightly eschew the Darwinistic fallacy of "DNA evidence."
CONGRESSMAN DELAY: Hallelujah!
THE PRESIDENT: Furthermore Lord, should your angelic winged minion-slaves dare to squander simulated benevolence
outside Pinellas Park, Florida, we trust they shall suffer Your Godly conservative wrath – hopefully in the
form of drastically reduced angel wages and retirement benefits.
Please heed our call, oh Lord, for though the glistening meatloaf that fifteen long years ago was Terri
Schlomo's body, has today expired, viciously
murdered by Ted "King Liberal" Kennedy, we entreat you oh Lord, during this the Easter
season, to pull that poor zombie's soul back down from Heaven to resume blissful occupancy within
its rightful poundcake of a body. Only then Lord, can You proceed to drain Kerri's skull of the gallons of
spinal fluid therein, and cause her brain stem to extrude cerebral cortex like so much marshmallow in a
Keebler Pinwheel cookie.
SENATOR DR. FRIST: A distinct medical possibility!
THE PRESIDENT: And then Lord, let Mel Gibson pay handsomely for the rights to whatsername's parents'
story, so that The Passion of the Terri can enjoy record-breaking DVD sales, and the Schindler
family can reap unimaginable royalties – 15% of which will be tithed to the re-election campaigns of my
CONGRESSMAN DELAY: (Sobs, lifts sweaty palms heavenward.)
THE PRESIDENT: And finally, oh Lord most merciful, give Terri Hiho's evil husband cancer. A super-duper painful kind that lingers
for decades. And unlike him, let not his commonlaw wife withstand the barrage of vindictive lies leaked to a
bloodthirsty press, and let her abandon him – so that he may fulfill his wife's destiny of spending all
eternity as the drooling, objectified icon of "Life" in the minds of your glassy-eyed, trailer-dwelling supplicants.