PEN PALS

Bush received a letter from Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the President of Iran, earlier this week. This is huge, people. Most world leaders will pick up the phone and give a shout, but this guy lacks people skills – so he sent a letter. I think he may have posted it on his blog, too: Open Letter to the American President.

Upon receiving the letter, Bush immediately tore into the envelope with his teeth and excitedly handed it to Cheney, asking him to read it to him. Cheney obliged.

“Dear Mr. Bush man,” he read aloud. “Why do you think the whole world hates you?” Cheney stopped and looked at Bush who had a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want me to continue?” Cheney asked.

“Yeah – I guess. But that’s a tough question, Dick. I don’t know why the whole world hates me. I’m a likable guy. Everybody thought so a couple years ago. That’s why they voted me prez. They had all those polls – you remember ‘em. Who’d ya rather hang out at a barbecue with, me or that tall guy with the funny hair. And they picked me.”

“I don’t think he’s talking about Americans when he says the whole world hates you. I think he means all the other people in all the other countries. At least here you know you’ve got friends. 38% of us anyhow.”

“Thanks, Dick. You always did know how to put stuff in perspective.”

“No problem. Shall I?” he asked, waving the letter from Iran.

“Oh yes, of course.”

“Why do you think the whole world hates you? I will tell you why. It is because you have poor judgment. It is because your resolve leaves little room for resolution. It is because your meddlesome advisors lead you astray.”

“Dick. Wait. Who’s he talking about there? Meddlesome advisors.”

“I think he means your cabinet – but don’t worry, you’ve replaced most of them.”

“Right. They never agreed with anything I wanted to do. Every time I shared one of your great ideas…or one of Rummy’s clever ideas, they’d tell me I was crazy. We didn’t need all that negativity circling the oval office. We needed swift action. But I digest – please continue.”

“It’s really just more of the same here, George. He questions your motives in the Middle East, condemns your support for Israel, and defends his nation’s sovereign right to protect itself in the event you decide to invade.”

“Invade? Why that’s just crazy talk, Dick. Why on earth would we invade Iran?”

“He seems to suggest it’s because of their oil.”

“They’ve got oil, too? This could be huge, Dick. Huge.”

“That’s where the Nazis went wrong, George. They overextended themselves. You can’t take over the whole world in just a few years. We’ve got to play this thing smart. Afghanistan and Iraq were a good start. Let’s let the next guy worry about North Korea and Iran. All you need to do is keep fanning the flames so they keep sending hostile letter like this one. It’ll play well in the press and win support for a future invasion.”

“Smart thinking, Dick. That’s why I made you veep.”

“Actually, George, I made me veep – remember? You asked me to find the guy most qualified to drive this handbasket to hell and my credentials were unmatched.”

George fished around in one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a bright yellow plastic bag. “Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that. Hey, you wanna Funyun? I love these things.”

“No thanks, George. Keep up the good work. What should I do with your letter?”

“Let’s just change the names on it and send it to Kim Jong-Il. What do you think?”

“Done.”