Greetings from the Sunshine State Print
Commentary/Politics - Guest Commentaries
Tuesday, 14 November 2000 18:00
(rrrrring) “Hello?” “George? It’s Al.” “Al? Al who?” “Get off it, Junior. It’s Al, the next President of the United States, that’s who.” “In your dreams, Poindexter. You’re talking to the next President of the United States.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. I’m watching them recount those Florida ballots, and they have me ahead by 326 votes. Wait a minute — 327. A couple got stuck together because of the humidity.”

“Oh, yeah? Was it so humid a few thousand people didn’t get to vote for me Tuesday? Not to mention several other irregularities.”

“The only irregularities down there are the kind you cure with Metamucil. What are you calling for, to concede again?”

“Fat chance, Dubya. I already took it back once.”

“Indian giver.”

“That’s Native American, you troglodyte. And I never would have called in the first place but Dan Rather told everyone it was all over. Did your old man slip him a couple of bucks?”

“Whine, whine. C’mon, whaddaya want? I’m busy here lining up my cabinet. I got Colin Powell on one line and Adam Clayton Powell on the other.”

“Yeah? I just closed down my campaign headquarters and Tipper is already cleaning up the lyrics to ‘Hail to the Chief.’”

“Give it up, Al. Why don’t you do the right thing like Nixon did in 1960? Then you could go for another jog in those red pants of yours. Where are you shopping now, Kids R Us?”

“Listen, Tex, I’m just calling to tell you we’re not letting you get away with all those shenanigans. Warren Christopher is filing lawsuits if he has to.”

“That shrimp? James Baker will eat him for breakfast. It’s not my fault people can’t tell you from Pat Buchanan.”

“The ballots didn’t line up. And if we had a better prescription-drug plan, my supporters’ hands wouldn’t be shaking so bad they punched the wrong holes.”

“Those ballots were okayed by everybody! And nobody said boo until you lost the election.”

“I didn’t lose the election! We haven’t even seen the absentee votes yet.”

“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to see those.”

“Me neither. The way this thing is going, it’ll be a split between the Socialist party and Strom Thurmond.”

(click)

“Hello? Is somebody using this line?”

“It’s me, Ma. I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Georgie Porgie, your Daddy says to have Jeb call out the Florida National Guard and get that Jesse Jackson to go home.”

“Ma... I’m talking to Al Gore here.”

“Oh. Um, hello there, Albert.”

“Hello, Mrs. Bush.”

“How’s that wife of yours, Flipper?”

“It’s Tipper, Mrs. Bush. She’s fine, too.”

“Good to hear it. Well, I have to run down to the store and get some more pork rinds. Nice talking to you.”

“Same here.”

(click)

“Excuse me, sir. The other president is on the phone.”

“All right, put him through.”

“Dubya? It’s Bill Clinton.”

“Swell. Your boy Al’s already on the other line.”

“He is? Hey there, Al. You think about that pardon yet?”

“Haven’t had the chance.”

“Well, just remember who got you here. And Dubya, I’m available for four more years if you can’t work things out. In fact, why don’t both of you move in while the lawyers are deciding this election thing? With Hillary out of the house, we can smoke cigars and party all night long!”

“Bill...”

“Can I get back to you?”

“Okay, but don’t wait too long. I already rented out the Lincoln Bedroom.”

Copyright 2000 Newrite, Inc. All rights reserved. GLW’s on WGN Radio AM 720 and wgnradio.com