The\r\nJourney of George Bush
\r\nA fictional account...\r\nAuthor: Stephen\r\nDeVoy\r\n<\/p>
George\r\nBush found himself, disoriented, in a misty place. Harp music could be\r\nheard in the distance. As he walked along, trying to get his bearings,\r\noccasionally distracted by the desire for a cold beer or a snort of cocaine, he\r\nsaw a light in the distance distorted by the passing mist. He walked\r\ntowards the light, step by step, wondering where he was and how he got\r\nthere. With each step forward, the light seemed to move back a step. \r\nIt was taking him much longer to reach the light than he thought it would. \r\nHe looked down and saw that he was naked.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
\"Condi!\" he yelled. \"Condi! I need someone to\r\nput my pants on, for God's sake!\" \"Damn it, where is\r\neveryone?\" he thought.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
George Bush continued, walking towards the light. Along the way\r\nthere was a sign. He looked at the sign and tried to sound out the words,\r\nbut he made no progress. \"Karl,\" he said. \"Karl, do\r\nyou hear me, I need some help here?\" There was no reply. He\r\nreached behind his back and the receiving device was not there. \r\n\"Shit!\" he yelled. \"Now I'm really lost.\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
He had been walking for what seemed like hours when he began to feel\r\nhungry. Thoughts of pretzels danced in his head. He began to\r\nsalivate, imagining a very, very big pretzel. \"Laura?\" he called\r\nout. \"Laura, could you bring me a pretzel, honey? Honey? \r\nAre you there?\" Once again, there was no answer. George Bush\r\nwas walking there, alone in the mist, naked.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
He looked up at the light again, but it seemed to be just as far away as\r\nit was a while back. He thought to himself, \"I bet Kerry would just\r\nstop, think for a while, and try to figure this out. What a girly\r\nman!\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Steadfast, unswerving, he continued walking towards the light, which\r\ncontinued to recede at an equal pace. He walked, and walked, and walked,\r\nand walked and it seemed it would never end when a voice behind him said,\r\n\"George. Excuse me, George, but you're walking in the wrong\r\ndirection.\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Bush stopped for a moment but did not turn around. \"Who the\r\nfuck are you?\" he asked. \"Don't you know who you're fucking\r\ntalking to?\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Bush raised his head, proud and steadfast and without turning around he\r\ncontinued walking in the direction of the light. This time the light\r\nseemed to be getting a little closer. George Bush felt more confident,\r\nmore steadfast and continued walking.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
\"George, turn around George!\" commanded the voice.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
\"Fuck you!\" said George Bush. \"I'm the President of\r\nthe United States of America. I don't have to listen to you.\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
He\r\nlooked forward at the light and noticed that it was much closer than\r\nbefore. He smiled.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
An angel, watching from afar, watched as George Bush drifted ever faster\r\ntowards the light, feet moving as if walking, floating through the misty void.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Finally, George Bush reached the light and a spiritual being held out his\r\nhand to him.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
\"God, I'm happy to see you,\" said George Bush. \"I've\r\nbeen walking for days. Why did you make me walk so far?\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
The spiritual being looked at George Bush and smiled. \"You\r\nhaven't been walking, my son,\" he said. \"You've been drifting\r\ntowards me. You did not need to move your legs for your legs played no\r\nrole in reaching my abode. And by the way, Mr. President, I'm not\r\nGod. He's been following you for some time trying to get you to turn\r\naround. I'm Satan and this is hell.\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
George Bush became pale. He turned around to see God, but God was no\r\nlonger there.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
\"There is no turning back now, Mr. President. You have\r\narrived. God has given up on you. Honestly, I'm glad you made the\r\nchoice you did. It gets lonely here in hell. Conversations with\r\nHitler, Mussolini, Stalin, and the rest have grown stale and I need a new\r\ncompanion to keep me entertained while I roast them over the spit. Here's\r\nyour orange jump suit. Here's your cage. Let's roll!\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n\n","contact":"","link":"http:\/\/www.stephen-devoy.com","address":"","phone":"","parent_id":0,"mime_type":"text\/html","summary":"George Bush takes a stroll through the afterlife.","numcomment":0,"fileurl":"\/uploads\/","filesize":null,"article_url":"\/news\/2004\/11\/119382.php"},"attachments":[],"comments":[]}