September 1, 2004, 9:17 PM EST
<Sea of red, white, and blue,
and that's only the hair of the delegates . Balloons and confetti and thousands of
happy flushed faces fill the hall. Conservative Democrat Zell Miller is speaking.>
Zell Miller: ...and it's no longer the
Party of Hope, I wanna tell you truthfully, it's downright depressing. Today's
Democratic Party has become Mr. Kerry's many mansions of cynicism and
skepticism. And when I say many mansions, I mean many mansion. Why, John
Kerry and his foreign speaking wife have more moola than all but a handful
of Republicans. Hey, maybe you'd like to give some of those clams back, huh
Mister Flip-flop. When it comes to taxes and services, you'd be hard pressed
to find anyone more opposed to the interests of middle-class Americans than
that rich old French speaking John Flip-flop Kerry. Except maybe for the Breck
Girl, Pretty Johnny Edwards. Both voted against tax relief, and both...
<A large contention of men in
black push their way through the hall, making a path for Vice President
Dick Cheney: Hold it, Zell. We've got
an important announcement to make.
ZM: Oh, God. Are the
terrorists attacking? Is that what's happening? Do we need to evacuate?
DC: Keep your panties on, Zell.
This is a good surprise. Sorry to interrupt you, but I think you're going to
like it. All right, fellas, roll in the cage.
<Four Marines wheel is a large velvet covered cage, followed by Condi Rice
dressed in a sequined circus girl outfit, and Trent Lott in a ringleader's hat and
ZM: What the hell, Dick!
DC: Condi, the cape please.
Condi Rice: <whipping the cover off
the cage> Whammo, Zammo, It's a little bit of campaign magic!
<A tall man in a white robe is inside clutching the bars. A sign over his
head reads 'The MasterMind'. He appears to be shouting, but between the
gasps from the audience and his lack of microphone, no one can hear him>
Trent Lott: Ladies and gentlemen, we
present for your entertainment tonight none other than the Monster of the
Middle East, the Titan of Terror, Pure Evil Personified, Mister Osama bin
Audience: BOOOO. HISSSSS. Off
with his head.
<from the cage, muffled> I'm
DC: What's that you say,
Mister Insane Killer?
<from the cage, a little
clearer> I'm not him!
CR: Oh, really. Well, you're certainly the right size. And you are in
a cage, are you not?
DC: Cooperate, you bastard.
Confess, or you'll never see your dialysis machine again.
CR: So, Mister not-Osama, just
what were your doing with a towel wrapped around your head?
<from the cage, indignant>
Your goons grabbed me right as I was getting out of the shower...
TL: Ladies and gentlemen, the
second most evil man who ever lived has just called our brave Army Rangers a
bunch of goons.
Audience: HISSSSS. BOOOO. Cut
off his balls!
ZM: The only men who wrap a towel around their heads are either
camel-jockeys or girly-boys.
TL: Yeah. Queers or steers,
and you don't look like a cow to me.
<from the cage, shouting
loudly> I'm Hollywood's Jeff Goldblum!!!
ZM: Don't know the name.
DC: You've been hiding in Hollywood all this time? Doh! We should have
TL: Let's bomb Hollywood,
Dick, let's bomb Hollywood.
<from the cage, desperate> I
was in Jurassic Park.
CR: Not Hollywood, Dick.
He was in Jurasiparque. That's right over the Pakistan border.
DC: Gag him, Trent! Enough of your
lies, Evil One.
TL: <Approaching the cage> Yeah, enough. America has had enough. And I'm
gonna tear your heart out, you bastard. Just like you tried to tear the heart out of...
DC: Hold it, Trent. Where's
CR: Right, Trent. Where's your
DC: I believe that Mister
Miller here has the floor, and we're currently cutting into his speaking time. Etiquette
states that if anyone tears out the madman's heart, it should be the keynote
speaker. Here, Zell, use my gun.
<from the cage> Mmmmuhmm.
ZM: Take this, you murdering
Gun: Bang! Bang Bang! Bang
DC: You can say that again,
Condi. Guards! Grab him.
TL: You just shot
Hollywood's Jeff Goldblum.
Ashton Kutcher <Appearing from
nowhere>: Zell Miller, you've just been punked, dude.
ZM: <Being dragged away> Sorry
DC: <taking the microphone,
and pointing to Goldblum's body> You know, four years ago, this loser said "Please,
dear God, let Al Gore get to be president." Hasn't had a lot of good rolls