Peter Deciding What to do With George
walking down the street one day, George "Dubya"
Bush is shot by a disgruntled NRA member.
His soul arrives in heaven and he is met by St.
Peter at the Pearly gates. "Welcome to Heaven,"
says St. Peter. "Before
you settle in, it seems there is a problem: We
seldom see a Republican around these parts, so
we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let
me in; I'm a believer." says Dubya.
"I'd like to just let
you in, but I have orders from the Man Himself:
He says you have to spend one day in Hell and
one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where
you'll live for eternity."
"But, I've already made
up my mind; I want to be in Heaven."
"I'm sorry, but we have
our rules." And with that, St. Peter escorts him
to an elevator and he goes down, down, down, all
the way to Hell.
The doors open and he
finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course;
the sun is shining in a cloudless sky, the temperature
a perfect 72 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful
clubhouse. Standing in front of it his dad and
thousands of other Republicans who had helped
him out over the years. Karl Rove, Dick Cheney,
Jerry Falwell the whole of the "Right" was there
everyone laughing happy casually but expensively
dressed. They run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce
about the good times they had getting rich at
expense of the "suckers and peasants". They play
a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster
The Devil himself comes
up to Bush with a frosty drink, "Have a Margarita
and relax, Dubya!"
"Uh, I can't drink no more,
I took a pledge," says Junior, dejectedly.
This is Hell, son: you
can drink and eat all you want and not worry,
and it just gets better from there!"
Dubya takes the drink and finds himself liking
the Devil, whom he thinks is a really very friendly
guy who tells funny jokes and pulls hilarious
nasty pranks kind of like a Yale Skull and Bones
brother with real horns. They are having such
a great time that, before he realizes it, it's
time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves
as Bush steps on the elevator and heads upward.
When the elevator door
reopens, he is in Heaven again and St. Peter is
waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven,"
the old man says, opening the gate. So for 24
hours Bush is made to hang out with a bunch of
honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's
company, talk about things other than money, and
treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or
frat boy joke among them; no fancy country clubs
and, while the food tastes great; it's not caviar
or lobster. And these people are all poor, he
doesn't see anybody he knows, and he isn't even
treated like someone special! Worst of all, to
Dubya, Jesus turns out to be some kind of Jewish
hippie with his endless 'peace' and 'do unto others'
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably
to himself, "Pat Robertson never prepared me for
The day done, St. Peter
returns and says, "Well, then, you've spent a
day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where
you want to live for eternity."
With the 'Jeopardy' theme playing softly in the
background, Dubya reflects for a minute, then
answers: "Well, I would never have thought I'd
say this -- I mean, Heaven has been delightful
and all -- but I really think I belong in Hell
with my friends."
So Saint Peter escorts
him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down,
all the way to Hell. The doors of the elevator
open and he is in the middle of a barren scorched
earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial
waste kind of like Houston. He is horrified to
see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained
together, picking up the trash and putting it
in black bags. They are groaning and moaning in
pain, faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to
Dubya and puts an arm around his shoulder. "I
don't understand," stammers a shocked Dubya, "Yesterday
I was here and there was a golf course and a clubhouse
and we ate lobster and caviar drank booze. We
screwed around and had a great time. Now there's
just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody
The Devil looks at him,
smiles slyly, and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning;
today you voted for us."