"I just want to thank you for your show of support on Scarborough, Pete. You know, politics can get pretty rough in this town."
"No problem, Mister Cheney. The whole situation with Plame just galls me, the way some of these petty bureaucrats drop names, acting like they're all hoity-toity. 'Look at me, the Vice President is sending me on a secret mission. La la la.' What a batch of scumbags."
"Well, that's the way people act when they're at the low end of the food chain. The sooner we can get all the chattel outsourced, the better. Halliburton could run the government for a hell of a lot cheaper, and with a hell of a lot less headaches."
"Right you are, sir. You know, in my district alone, there are..."
"No one gives a fuck about your district, sonny boy."
"Uh, oh, uh..."
"I want you to go on a secret mission for me, King."
"Who does it look like I'm talking to, shithead?"
"Oh, uh... okay. Honored. What do you want me to do?"
"The bald guy. Right behind you. Kill him."
"Uh, what? I don't even know him."
"That's Steve Birmingham of the Freeport Press. He just wrote an editorial saying that Rove should be in prison. The very same guy that called my daughter a lesbian last year in one of his treasonous editorials."
"Isn't this a little..."
"Shut up, peckerwood. Here, take my gun."
"Well, okay then..." BANG! BANG BANG BANG! BANG BANG.
"Good work, son. You can keep the gun."
"Uh, thanks Mister Cheney, I'll treasure it. But what do I tell the police?"
"That's your problem, Petey boy. You can tell them you were on a secret mission for the Vice President for all I care."
©2005, Mark Hoback