In My World: Bush and Chirac Personally Supervise Inspections

In My World: Bush and Chirac Personally Supervise Inspections By Frank J.: In an effort to prove whether Iraq is actually disarming, President Bush and President Chirac went to Iraq to personally watch Saddam as he destroyed his weapons of mass destruction.

“You aren’t going to get anything past me, Saddam,” Bush warned, “I know you’re not disarming.”

“Why are you Americans so mean?” Saddam asked, sounding quite hurt. “Here I am, clearly destroying my anthrax.” He then threw another bag labeled “Anthrax” into the furnace.

“Did I hear that bag meow?” Bush asked. He then opened one of the bags. “These bags aren’t full of anthrax! They’re full of cute little kittens!”

“Whaaaat!” Saddam exclaimed, slapping his hands to his face ala Macaulay Culkin. “I thought those bags were full of anthrax!”

“I knew Saddam would do everything he could to undermine this disarmament! He’s so evil he’s burning kittens alive!”

“Nonsense, you silly American; inspections are working!” Chirac declared. “Now that Saddam realized he is burning the wrong bags, he can get to destroying the real anthrax.”

“Don’t rush me,” Saddam said, measuring some chemicals, “I’m not done making it yet.”

“He’s making biological weapons as we speak!” Bush yelled, “I told you this disarmament is bull.”

“You stupid warmongering American; I spit on your mother,” Chirac said as he put a flask on a Bunsen burner, “Why won’t you let the inspections process take its course?”

“You’re helping him make it!” Bush said, getting steaming mad. “I’ll murder you both!”

Bush began to reach for the Colt .45 at his hip, but Karl Rove whispered, “Diplomacy! Diplomacy!” into his ear and he settled down.

Saddam walked over to a nearby detonator. “Now I’m going to destroy my missiles just like I promised.”

Chirac patted Saddam on the head. “What a good evil dictator. Not so crude like a certain current American President I won’t mention.” He then turned up his nose at Bush.

Saddam pressed the plunger, and an explosion was seen nearby.

“Why are children running away from that explosion?” Bush asked as he squinted to get a better look. “Those aren’t missiles! You’re blowing up the playground equipment at the orphanage! You’re a monster!”

“Whaaaat! The orphanage!” Saddam yelled, looking really really surprised. “Who wired these explosives? This is the most ridiculous thing ever!”

“Inspections are working!” Chirac cheered, doing a little French dance. “I haven’t yet come up with an explanation of why this means inspections are working, but just give me a minute more.”

“You better destroy the real missiles right now!” Bush demanded.

“Alright,” Saddam answered, “but then I think the U.N. should disarm America of it’s weapons of mass destruction, such as its nuclear missiles, it’s daisy cutters, and its Donald Rumsfeld.”

Chirac shuddered. “Don’t mention that name in front of me; such a rash and angry person. So how do you plan on destroying the missiles, Saddam?”

“I think I’ll launch them at Israel.”

“There is much support for that at the U.N.,” Chirac stated. “Hey, I’m starting a new U.N. commission on hating America. You should head it after this silly disarmament thing is done with and the Americans are laughed at like the fools they are.”

“Diplomacy! Diplomacy!” Karl Rove shouted at Bush, but it was too late.

* * * *

“Bush’s beating of Chirac and Saddam with a sack full of kittens has created an international incident; will any apologies be issued?” a reporter asked.

“The President has already sent a written apology to the kittens,” White House Press Secretary Ari Fleischer stated.

“Kittens can’t read.”

Fleischer rolled his eyes. “The President is not a zoologist. He can’t be expected to keep track of which animals can and cannot read.”

“So does the president have anything else to say?”

“Nothing more than his usual weekly proclamation of his complete and utter contempt for the press. Oh, and he bet me five dollars I couldn’t hit one of you in the eye with my pen.” Fleischer then flicked his pen at the reporters.

“Ahh! My eye!”

“Bullseye!”

If you liked this satire by Frank J, you can see more of his work at IMAO.

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