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 Cheney>

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 tails>

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 Laden!

Audience: BOOOO. HISSSSS. Off with his head.

<from the cage, muffled> I'm not him!

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.

CR: Huh?

<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 known.

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 your manners?

CR: Right, Trent. Where's your manners?

TL: Uhh...

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 bastard!

Gun: Bang! Bang Bang! Bang Bang Bang!

CR: Whoa!

DC: You can say that again, Condi. Guards! Grab him.

ZM: Whuh?

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 Mister Goldblum.

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 since then...
 

2004, Mark Hoback