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The Strom Thurmond Presidency
It was a normal evening, with the normal, boring television programming when suddenly, Vice-President Cheney appeared on national television (except the FOX network, which violated FCC regulations and aired "When Orphans Attack VII" instead). "Good evening America. Sadly, your president (and my stooge, he grumbled) George W. Bush died recently. The first lady found him dead in the bathroom; apparently he died of a cocaine overdose. Let us all unite together under one…ALL-POWERFUL LEADER! ME! DICK CHENEY! MYUH WAH HA HA HA HA HAAAA! Now BOW be-"
A message appeared on the screen which read PLEASE WAIT…WE ARE HAVING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. IN THIS OPPURTUNITY, WE WOULD LIKE TO TEST THE EMERGENCY ALARM SYSTEM. DO NOT BE WORRIED, THIS IS ONLY A TEST. WERE AN ACTUAL EMERGENCY, WE WOULD BE LONG FROM HERE, COMPLETELY LEAVING YOU SUCKERS TO PANIC IN SHEER TERROR. *BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP* *Thank you, we now return to our scheduled programming*
MEANWHILE AT THE OVAL OFFICE-"Sir, Americans won't stand for that kind of fascism," warned Cheney's aid. "Not to worry. Thanks to our poor, poor education system and government spin doctors they'll forget. Finally, it is time to realize my destiny as lord of all Earth! Nobody can stop me now, my invincible legions will crush all
opposition! ALL HAIL YOUR EMPEROR, DICK CHENEY THE GREAT!"
"Umm…we are a democracy."
"SILENCE! HOW DARE YOU CHALLENGE ME! PRAETORIANS, TAKE HER AWAY!"
"Sir, we're the Secret Service. Not the Praetorian Guard," explained a secret service agent.
"You shall be what I call you, and you shall obey me with the certainty of a sleep walker."
In unison the Secret Service bellowed, "SIR! YES SIR!"
* * * * * * * * * * *
NEXT DAY- "Do you Richard insert middle name here Cheney swear to uphold the constitution and laws of the United States of America?" queried the chief justice of the supreme court.
Cheney muttered under his breath "I'm the law now."
"Mr. Cheney, we await your response."
"I do."
"You may now kiss the bride, I mean, God help you, Mr. President. Heh-heh," snickered the chief justice in a cruelly mocking tone. Cheney began his address, "I will continue to guide this nation as did our
most fine and wonderfully GREAT president, Vicentes Fox--"
Cheney's aid stammered, "Sir, that's the current president of Mexico!"
"Oh yeah…" Cheney began his speech anew, "Did I say Vicentes Fox? I meant to say…*Cheney falls asleep for five minutes, then wakes up* Richard Milhouse Nixon! Now I'd like to tell you about my gall bladder. The gall bladder is a wonderful organ, and….GYAAH!" Cheney clutched his chest in severely obvious pain, "My heart…I'm, I'm--DYING! This cannot be! I must fulfill my great destiny as the true master of this world! Hail Cheney…!"
Cheney collapsed dead, his seventeenth heart attack proved too much for the feeble man. It would seem that his recent dodectuple heart bypass surgery could not save him, or perhaps it was the fact that Dr. Nick Riviera (the useless doctor from The Simpsons) performed the difficult, life threatening operation.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Once again, regular television programming was interrupted and EXTRA! editions of newspapers arrived on newsstands, Dick Cheney had been pronounced undeniably dead. It was certainly a shock, the American people lost two presidents in just two days, and now the speaker of the house, Dennis Hastert, was poised to become president.
J.C. Watts pounced on this news. He picked up his phone, and pressed
the speed dial button to Dennis Hastert's office. BRRRING! BRRRING! "Good
afternoon, this is Dennis Hastert's office. How may I help you?"
Watts answered quickly, "This is representative J.C. Watts, please put me through to Mr. Hastert immediately. It's of critical importance!"
"Yes sir, one moment please," the secretary pressed a switch and transferred, "Mr. Hastert, J.C. Watts is on the line, shall I patch him in?"
Hastert responded, "Yes, let me speak with the man!"
"Yes sir."
Hastert said, "Hello J.C., how are you?"
Watts spoke, "I didn't call to chew the fat, Dennis. Cheney died, and you're next in line to be president!"
"I know, I don't think I'm going to do it."
"What? Why?!"
"I really like my current job, it suits me well."
"Do you realize what will happen if you don't take the job?!"
"Yes, Strom Thurmond will be president."
"You fool! He'll undo all the hard work we republicans have done over the past twenty years to improve our image!"
"I'm sure he'll lead responsibly, he has after all dedicated his entire life to public service."
"Dennis, think of the progress the G.O.P. has made in wooing minority respect in the past decade or so. If Thurmond is allowed to become president, ALL of our hard work goes down the crapper, damn't! Hell, ran for president on the DIXICRAT ticket!"
"While that is certainly a blemish on his record, he did vote to make Martin Luther King Day a national holiday in 1971, after all."
"He also argued for twenty hours on the senate floor in 1955 to keep blacks segregated, the old goon."
"Yes, well…he mended his ways?"
"Whatever. The guy's practically older than the Declaration of Independence! What kind of statement does that make about our country?!"
"Uh…a fine one! One of strength and longevity!"
"Right…I can see you're far too cowardly to do the job, you miserable craven. Good bye, Dennis!" Watts slammed the phone down onto the receiver.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Mr. Thurmond, this just came from Dennis Hastert," said one of the senator's aides.
"Son of a Saigon whore! After all these years I finally get to be president! Hot diggity damn!" exclaimed an exuberant Strom Thurmond.
"Also, sir, the press would like to meet you."
"Well, let's go give 'em one helluva show!"
"Sir, the public demands honesty, not another performance."
"Screw that goddamn honesty! Remember Napoleon, boy? He put one helluva a fine show and they loved the bastard!"
"Umm…to be honest, no."
"Well, then I guess you wouldn't. C'mon now, let's go rile up these sons of bitches!"
Thurmond, in spite of his ancient birth date, walked out to the podium with great ease and a stately elegance to boot. A reporter asked, "Mr. Senator what will your presidency be like and what plans do you have?"
Thurmond roared in his southern drawl, "Well, son, I hope it'll be like the reign of Caesar Augustus, a time of peace and great prosperity, if y'all remember him now."
"What are you talking about? Augustus has been dead for 1,974 years! Of course we can't recall him!" clamored another journalist.
"Well, I guess that's what happens when ya gotta talk to whipper-snappers like yur selves. If I had my 'druthers, y'all would love what I was saying here. Like the time that I spake to the crowd about that durn newfangled, well, back then it was, Magna Carta. Now listen here…"Thurmond drifted into an ever-so-pointless monologue, finally concluding the ordeal with, "and that's how I led the Exodus. Questions?" the crowd was asleep or dying of boredom, "Good. Meeting adjourned, ladies and gentlemen!"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Thurmond drew his red bow tie into a nice, prim knot. He had to look his "Sunday best" for the upcoming inauguration. Strom entered a limousine and took the crappy inaugural run to the steps of Capitol Hill. He promenaded up the steps to the stage. The chief justice said, "Do you Strom Thurmond swear to uphold the laws and ideals of the U.S. constitution as our next president, cross your heart, hope to die, and stick a needle in your pie?"
To this, Thurmond answered, "I most certainly do, except for that confounded pie part!"
"Then you are President Strom Thurmond!"
Now Thurmond drifted into one of his signature monologues o' boredom, "My inauguration reminds me of my wonderful brown shoes, that I took a camping trip in…" six weeks later, "and in summation, VOODOO!"
A crowd of skeletons lay before him; he had spoken them to death.
* * * * * * * * * * *
LATER AT THE G.O.P. SECRET HEADQUARTERS-
"My vice president is here," said Thurmond, "I shall call him…Mini-Me."
"What the hell are you talking about old man?! You're not Dr. Evil and I'm not Mini-Me. I don't look anything like you at all! Hell, I'M BLACK AND YOU'RE WHITE! My name is J.C. Watts! And finally, the headquarters aren't secret at all! The building is in plain view outside, with a big sign on it!" replied an angry Watts.
"Whatever, let's think up some legislation that our congress will pass. I got me an idea! To solve our poverty our poverty issues, we'll take every poor man, woman and child alive; then, we'll conscript them into the army--without paying them! Ooh…just got another hum-dinger of an idea! We have a huge drug problem, and most drugs are from Latin America! So, simply put son, we'll invade and conquer every Latin American nation there is! We have to fight the war on drugs like a real war! Let's git down to congress right away, boy!"
Thurmond dashed to Capitol with Godspeed, quite frightening given his age. He found them proposing another salary increase. "Men and women of Congress! I beseech you to listen to me! We must win the war on drugs, it is goddamn important! You and I know that enslaving black folks agin won't work, they'll just be lazy slaves then! Therefore, I hereby propose that we invade Latin-America--all of it!" ranted the old coot.
A mix of yeas (from the pachyderms, of course!) and nays (from the asses, of course!) resonated across the chamber from the floor. In a most sad tribute to the splintered, partisan politics of this nation, the issue was actually called to vote. Joe Lieberman attempted to filibuster, but was shot by the secret service six times. Within two hours, this maddening chamber of fools declared war on every nation in Latin America. Upon hearing this news, Ralph Nader shot himself in the ear.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The next day, the United States' Air Force and the United States' Navy launched tens of thousands of sorties, the largest number in history, against virtually every Latin American nation. The countries resisted, of course, but paper airplanes and rocks are of little use against modern aircraft of war. Immediately after the air bombardment, the Boy Scouts of America invaded Mexico and used their skills at making fire through friction and bashing homosexuals to defeat the great legions of the Mexican Empire. Simultaneously, the Brownie Division of the Girl Scouts of America invaded Cuba, while the older girl scouts tangled with forces in Central America. Mexico and Cuba fell quickly, but it was necessary to bring in the beer-drinking rampage of the American Legion to smash the might of Guatemala and Nicaragua. However, upon the invasion of Colombia, the unified might of The B.S.A. and the G.S.A was not enough. Even the mighty drunkards of the American legion could not defeat the awesome paramilitary thugs and drug lords! Time and time again, the Colombian forces smashed our troops. So we sent the 3rd Army. All resistance across all of South America was crushed in two days.
THE END
No wait! That's not the end! It's a li-
FIN
Damn you, end tag! Well, it looks like the sinister end tag has been defeated. Now then, with resistance crushed, only one man had any hope of stopping the American juggernaught: the mighty Juan Valdez! Valdez united all the coffee growers of Latin America against the Americans in great fervor of Latin patriotism. They mounted their donkeys and armed themselves with digging sticks: the 3rd Army was in for quite a surprise…
Free coffee! Juan Valdez gave all the Americans free coffee, appeasing their blood lust and causing them to be induced into a state of a caffeinated stupor. As a result, they all marched off into the Pacific Ocean. Now the coffee growers liberated country after country on their great donkeys of war…but their was one man they didn't reckon about dealing with: Bob Dole! Bob Dole was dispatched by Thurmond to personally defeat Juan Valdez at Veracruz: the very site where U.S. Marines landed in 1913 to extract some money from Mexico. The coffee growers charged down the hill, waving their digging sticks in the air. Then Bob Dole popped ten viagra pills, and exploded in a fury of libido. His refreshed libido created the ultimate dirty old man, he routed the evil forces of Juan Valdez in just five minutes. Upon finding Juan Valdez, he said, "Don't fuck with a dirty old man, you filthy coffee grower."
Bob Dole then crushed Juan's head with one mighty blow to the abdomen.
* * * * * * * * * *
Bob Dole returned to Washington with a hero's welcome, he was hailed as America's greatest champion, a true modern day Perseus. He fought for a noble cause and vanquished and evil foe. Unfortunately, something happened then that no man could've predicted: Bob Dole exploded and heroin addicted monkeys undergoing withdrawal leapt upon Strom Thurmond and tore out his artificial hip and pacemaker. Using their industrious drug skills, they used the pacemaker to rotate the artificial hip at 500 revolutions per minute. Using this rotary club, they smote Strom Thurmond time and time again. Eventually his face was bludgeoned, and the old man finally died. And that, my friends, is truly
THE END
DISCLAIMER: This story is in no way meant to be racist towards Latin Americans nor to be discriminatory towards old people and heroin addicted monkeys.
-Daovonnaex
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