2008 Woodie Awards
Americans still in tact after two-hour Cheney rule
Brandon Morrison
Issue date: 7/11/02 Section: Opinion
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(U-WIRE) MURFREESBORO, Tenn. - Well, we're all still here.
More than a few Americans were concerned the country wouldn't survive when President George W. Bush announced he would transfer his presidential powers to Dick Cheney while he underwent a colonoscopy June 29. Translation: Dick Cheney was officially President of the United States for more than two hours that day. Scary.
Thankfully, Mr. Cheney didn't order a robot duplicate of himself made, since his own robotic parts are rusting and aren't compatible with Mr. Gore's parts. After a two-hour procedure, President Bush's presidential powers were returned scandal-free.
So what do you think Mr. Cheney did with his two hours in the hot seat? I wonder if he kept eyeing that big, red button on the president's desk that fires off all the nukes at various countries.
If I were in Mr. Cheney's shoes, I would have made the most of my time. The night before, I would make a list of promises I would break the next day. I'd keep calling Bush up, saying stuff like, "Take all the time you need, Mr. President," and "How'd you like to take a day off next week too, Mr. President?"
At the beginning of my "term," I'd crank call all my world leader counterparts. "Hey, Yasser Arafat, is your refrigerator running?"
Next, I'd try to find President Clinton's stash of Cuban cigars and his intern file. On second thought, forget the Cuban cigars. God only knows where they've been.
Every one of my advisers would have to call me "Mr. President" during my two-hour term. If any of them disobeyed, I would have them deported to Canada.
Right before I left office, I would pass a law expanding the powers of the vice president. He'd only have to work a two-hour day, once a week.
His interns would all have to be 20-something aspiring models with an ambition for political greatness. I'd also get rid of all of the president's hot interns and replace them with sweaty old men.
After the president had his powers returned, I'd make fun of his predicament. "George," I'd say, "Today I was the most powerful man in the world while you had a camera shoved up your butt."
I'd go to bed that night a happy man knowing, for once, I wasn't the only person who called myself the world's most powerful man.
So if any of you political science majors out there want to run for president anytime soon, you know where to turn for the coolest vice-president candidate around - anywhere but my office.
More than a few Americans were concerned the country wouldn't survive when President George W. Bush announced he would transfer his presidential powers to Dick Cheney while he underwent a colonoscopy June 29. Translation: Dick Cheney was officially President of the United States for more than two hours that day. Scary.
Thankfully, Mr. Cheney didn't order a robot duplicate of himself made, since his own robotic parts are rusting and aren't compatible with Mr. Gore's parts. After a two-hour procedure, President Bush's presidential powers were returned scandal-free.
So what do you think Mr. Cheney did with his two hours in the hot seat? I wonder if he kept eyeing that big, red button on the president's desk that fires off all the nukes at various countries.
If I were in Mr. Cheney's shoes, I would have made the most of my time. The night before, I would make a list of promises I would break the next day. I'd keep calling Bush up, saying stuff like, "Take all the time you need, Mr. President," and "How'd you like to take a day off next week too, Mr. President?"
At the beginning of my "term," I'd crank call all my world leader counterparts. "Hey, Yasser Arafat, is your refrigerator running?"
Next, I'd try to find President Clinton's stash of Cuban cigars and his intern file. On second thought, forget the Cuban cigars. God only knows where they've been.
Every one of my advisers would have to call me "Mr. President" during my two-hour term. If any of them disobeyed, I would have them deported to Canada.
Right before I left office, I would pass a law expanding the powers of the vice president. He'd only have to work a two-hour day, once a week.
His interns would all have to be 20-something aspiring models with an ambition for political greatness. I'd also get rid of all of the president's hot interns and replace them with sweaty old men.
After the president had his powers returned, I'd make fun of his predicament. "George," I'd say, "Today I was the most powerful man in the world while you had a camera shoved up your butt."
I'd go to bed that night a happy man knowing, for once, I wasn't the only person who called myself the world's most powerful man.
So if any of you political science majors out there want to run for president anytime soon, you know where to turn for the coolest vice-president candidate around - anywhere but my office.