TRANSCRIPT OF PRESIDENT'S CHAT WITH DOUBLE AMPUTEE WMD HUNTER DURING TOTALLY NON-GROTESQUELY EXPLOITATIVE SOUTH LAWN PHOTO OP
The South Lawn
[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]
THE PRESIDENT: OK, you ready Sergeant?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Then let's roll!
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
[Begin Jogging.]
THE PRESIDENT: Well I'll be damned. You really can run on them little boomerang things!
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: That is really cool, Sergeant. I can't believe how you don't even need
to put shoes on them. It must be nice not to have to buy new sneakers anymore.
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Hey, remember that day we met in the hospital? The day you asked me if
I'd go jogging with you? And I said yes?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Well I gotta admit, I figured that was just another one of my bullshit
empty promises. There were cameras in the room with us, after all. I mean, here you
were, all freshly stumpy, talking about running? I bit my tongue so hard to keep from
laughing, I was lisping like a fairy for almost a week. You know what I mean?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Of course, when
they told me this photo op was actually going to happen, I was pretty pissed at first. I mean, look at my big fat
ass and beer belly these days; do I look like someone who still jogs? I can't. My knees are totally
shot. But Karl assured me that yours are too, so it wouldn't matter.
Hey, watch out for that lump of Barney fudge over there.
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Man, how cool is this for you? You're actually running on the White
House lawn with me! You're like, officially historicalistic now.
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: I'll bet this one half hour makes all the excruciatingly pain of a
severe trauma injury worth it – not to mention the months of intensive care and
getting to spend the rest of your life teetering around on those robo-pogo stick things.
Am I right or what?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Hey, can I ask you a question about the military?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: So after everything that has gone down in Vietraq: there being no WMDs,
no connection to 9/11TM, no post-invasion plan, no exit strategy, and tons of you
getting killed and having your limbs blown off... most grunts still love me, right?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: And most still believe in the mission, right?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Even though we're totally losing, and nobody really knows what the mission
is – except for all that meaningless blah-blah about FREEDOM®?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Awesome. It's exactly that kind of unquestioning, brainwashed groupthink
that makes me love combat units. Well, not enough to have actually joined one in Vietnam.
But still, you know what I mean, right?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Ooops – you OK? You looked like you almost lost your balance there
for a second. You sure you're gonna make it through the full lap?
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Good. Because you know, I'm not big on those metaphor things, but having
you, a fresh-faced patriot who was needlessly mutilated in my personal vendetta war against
Saddam Insane, do a messy faceplant in front of the White House with all these
photographers around... Well... That would be a real PR shit sandwich for me.
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: In fact, fear of that is half the reason I can't seem to wipe this twisted, tortured
grin off my face. Well, that and I can't decide if the sight of us together will make folks
think I'm compassionate, supportive and determined – or whether it comes off as a kind
of grotesquely ironic exploitation of an innocent victim of my mendacity and incompetence.
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Shut up. That wasn't a question. Anyway, we're almost at the finish line
here, so you slow down and let me win.
FREEDOM®-FIGHTER: Sir, yes sir!
THE PRESIDENT: Good boy.
[END TRANSCRIPT]
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