 |
 And
so you see Mister President... I mean, Jambi, Sir... Sir Jambi... Ooh, I
don't know what to call you... |
 Just
call me George. It kind of goes with the face. |
|
Really?
I can call you George? Wow. The real president never let me call him by his
name. |
|
Ha
hahaha. Enjoy the joys of Jambi! |
 Hey!
Turd Blossom! Don't be calling that Genie by my name! |
|
So
anyway, George, I'm really hoping that you can work with us on some very
important wishes. We've got a whole list of things that we really really
want to happen in the next few years. For example, there's a... |
|
Bargaining
point. Can I keep the president's body? |
 There
he is. |
 What
are you doing talking to Jambi without us, Rove? |
|
Aw
Jeez, guys. I'm just trying to work out a deal for wishes. I swear that's
all. |
|
Don't
listen to this little traitor, Donnie. He's trying to finagle his own
wishes. 'Oh, Jambi, I want to look like George Clooney'. |
|
Quit
teasing me, Mister Vice President. Jambi wants to know if he can keep the
president's body. |
|
In
exchange for wishes? Absolutely. |
|
Oh,
lord, Dick. Talk about traitors. I've always stood up for you. |
|
Let's
not be too hasty on this. |
|
Go
Rummy. Go Rummy. Go Rummy. Go Rummy. |
|
There's
a lot more to being the president than just looking the par, Jambit. For
example, can you give a decent speech? |
|
I'm
a very quick study. |
|
Good,
good. How about arm twisting? |
|
I
once twisted Ali Baba's arm until it looked like Turkish taffy |
|
You
do realize that you would be taking on a family, George. A wife, two lovely
daughters... |
|
Grrrrr...
Rove called him George. I smell a rat. |
|
Sounding
good, sounding good Karl, old buddy, old pal old chum. I've been in that box
sixteen hundred years. I'll bet you I can screw anything with a pulse for
the next couple of decades. Any lovely sons? |
|
No,
but we'll introduce you to Scott the Spokesman. He can take care of that end
for you. |
|
That
was a terrible pun, Turd Blossom. I'll get you for that. |
|
Oh,
heh heh. That must be George talking from the box. You can barely hear him.
Reese, open his shutters and let's get his take on this whole thing. |
 Sure. |
 Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!
I'm trapped in a Jambi box! |
|
Oh
hush, Mister President. Here. Have a marshmallow peanut. |
|
George,
your country need you. Well, kind of. We need you to quit being president.
You've made a fucking mess out of things. Ha. Just kidding. But on the
serious side, we would like to trade you in for Jambi. |
|
We've
brought someone in to explain our rationale to you, George. |
 Don't
call me George, Turd Blossom. |
|
Well,
Jambi let's me call him George. |
|
That's
right. Now let me introduce you to your special emissary. |
 Dad? |
|
to be continued... |