Washington Horror Blog

SEMI-FICTIONAL CHRONICLE of the EVIL THAT INFECTS WASHINGTON, D.C. To read Prologue and Character Guide, please see www.washingtonhorrorblog.com, updated 6/6//2017.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Twilight for the Leaders of the Free World

Condoleezza Rice was pissed off. She had thought she was in charge. What is going on out there? She stared at the sunset over the Potomac, crumpling a draft memo in her right hand while swishing her gingko biloba, pomegranate, wheat grass, Fresca, rice milk smoothie in her left hand. She tried to kick off her shoes, then realized she had already kicked them off. Her feet were still throbbing. She had had enough of this. Tomorrow she would wear cowboy boots and start rounding up those idiotic dogies.

Over at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. NW, Dubyah was watching a round-up from the second season of "Gunsmoke"--a DVD gift from his brother. He was a little confused about what had happened today. He was thinking maybe he should ask his Chief of Staff to explain it in the morning. They had planned the press conference all day, then announced the SUPER BIG SECRET they had made him keep shut up about all these years--yes, by golly, we DO have super secret CIA prisons all over the place, and we had REALLY BAD GUYS in there, and they told us stuff because we water-boarded them, but that's not torture, here, I'll show you a picture of how it's done, but I have never condoned torture and never will, nosirree, not on my watch, and they don't have no more useful information for us because they've been out of the loop for four years, so we're gonna finally give them a trial now, even though we won't let them confront the evidence against them, and, oh, by the way, they're GUILTY!!!!!! Let 'em fry!!!! Well, he didn't say that last part, except to Dickie.

So that was all swell, but NOOOOO, Rummy had to get pissed off because those sissie Democrats in Congress had tried to force a vote of no confidence on him--well, who cares? Sticks and stones, Rummy! But Rummy couldn't stand it, so he had made a big press release of his own and told the whole world that the Defense Department had just updated its Human Intelligence Collector manual, and they had banned water-boarding, yeah! And banned hoods! And banned mean dogs! And banned sexual degradation! And banned ALL THOSE THINGS at Abu, yeah, man, cause the Defense Department read the whole report from Amnesty International, and the Defense Department is cool, man! The Defense Department doesn't torture! Made Bush look like a damn fool, showing the press pictures of how water-boarding is done and it's not torture, so if it's not torture, why did Rummy get it banned, huh? And then Bush had gotten a headache, so they had sent him home to eat pretzels and watch TV. In the morning somebody would explain to him how this all meant sense. Usually it was Dickie. Sometimes it was Condi, and then Dickie would come in and explain what Condi's words meant. Lately they had started letting Tony Snow explain things to him, and that was good.

The "Gunsmoke" episode was in a boring place, so he turned to the pile of magazines Laura had left on the end table before she joined her Wednesday night chat room about the tragic national neglect of boys. "Meet the Cannibals"?! WAY COOL! Bush picked up the September Smithsonian issue and turned to the article on Papua cannibalism. He had never picked up the Smithsonian magazine before--BORING! There is NO way they had an article about cannibals in there...but they DID! It took him a long time to read it, and he even had to use the pause button on "Gunsmoke", but he finally got to the part about eating the other human being. It wasn't a human being at all! It was a human being that had already been killed and replaced by a witch! Khakhua! Invasion of the body snatchers! Well, sure, he could understand that. He had put to death all kinds of people in Texas who had obviously been possessed by demons. Eating them makes perfect sense, he thought. Don't take any chances. And they're poor, so waste not, want not--gotta taste better than frogs and spiders. He kept reading some more, flipped the pages--nekkid breasts!--read some more. Well, it all made sense. It was just like with them terrorists--if somebody whispers to you that it's a witch, don't take any chances! Gotta protect the people! Khakhua! He ripped out the article so Laura wouldn't read it--she'd probably wanna send the Methodist missionaries out there, and they'd just get themselves killed what with the cannibals and the elephantiasis, and he didn't have time for that.

Maybe Rummy was already gone? Maybe he had already been replaced by a khakhua? Well, Bush knew he couldn't fire him--that would look like caving! Had to stay the course. Get Harriet and her Pentecostal friends on it--tell her to take a close look at Rummy and pray for him. See what she could figure out about him. Invasion of the Body Snatchers?

Why was he still thinking about this?! Somebody would explain it all in the morning. He turned "Gunsmoke" back on, then fell asleep with the khakhua article stuffed in his shirt.

Uptown, Dick Cheney was also reading about khakhua. He could just rip that idiot Rummy to pieces and eat him raw!!!!!! The whole damn Defense Department was flippin' them the bird again! That report wasn't supposed to come out until a month before the mid-terms, and quietly, to be used strategically by certain incumbents on the campaign trail only. He was tired of sticking up for those Pentagon morons. Hell, it didn't matter to Cheney who was getting killed in Iraq as long as the Halliburton money kept rolling in, but Rummy needed to get with the program. He pounded his fist on the table. Mrs. Cheney looked up from her Wednesday night chat room on the tragic national neglect of boys and exclaimed, "Cool it, pacemaker boy!" Then she got back to her anonymous post about how the country really needed cotillions for 10-year-old boys. She loved to yank Laura's chain!

Across the river, Donald Rumsfeld was listening to "Opera at Eight" and throwing darts at his upside-down picture of Condaleeza Rice. He knew his Deputy Secretary for Strategic Communications was still at the White House getting cussed out by Tony Snow's pit bull and Dick Cheney's rottweiler, but he didn't care. It was the only thing he could do to avoid getting fired--no WAY they can fire me now! I just cleaned up the Pentagon act, I just took the high road, I just announced to the world that we won't treat prisoners like Stalin and Hitler did! It's the CIA that's acting like the Russian mafia, not us! We're Boy Scouts, damn it! We're patriots! WE ARE THE ONES SAVING THE WORLD FOR DEMOCRACY! No matter that it was the Office of General Counsel that had read the riot act to him after Abu, no matter that it was all those 5-Star Generals' threatening to resign if he didn't fix it, no matter that John McCain had lectured to him for two hours about how Abu had just greenlighted torture against American prisoners all over the world. Rumsfeld would get credit. Everything good that happened at the Pentagon was because of him! Everything bad that happened at the Pentagon was because of the Democrats' not supporting the war on terror! It was plain and simple! Now Condi better take care of Iran, because there was no way in hell he was doing another invasion! He didn't see anything wrong with the neutron bomb plan, but if she could do better, fine! He threw his final dart, and it bounced off her teeth.

Over the Potomac, Dubious McGinty was flossing his teeth in the abandoned bridgeman's quarters, listening to "Opera at Eight". It was the first time he had flossed his teeth in nine years, but he couldn't stop gagging, having just read the Smithsonian cannibalism article after eating super-stringy chicken. "That's just not right!" he yelled out again, then did another look-around to make sure nobody was coming for him. He knew he was the one chosen to fight this evil demon in the Potomac, but he couldn't stand the thought of somebody coming to eat his brains out. It took him three years to get his brains back after that electric shock treatment at St. Elizabeth's Hospital. It took him five years to stop having nightmares about his brains, and now he had a brand new one. He hurled the Smithsonian magazine off the bridge and squinted his eyes to see it hit the water, but he couldn't see a splash. He shivered all over. He crossed himself and spit three times into the demon water.

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