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The Bush-Kennedy Connection
April 22, 2001
by The Now-Restless Soul of Theodore Roosevelt

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The setting, a gray military-style war room beneath the White House, Jan 28th, 2001. Seated in one small section are Dubya, Cheney, and Bush Sr. The lighting is dim, like in Dr. Strangelove.

Dubya: Now, fellas, what was so important to drag us away from our lovely wives and all the way down here, for gosh sakes.

Bush Sr.: Listen son, this is important. You're president now and it's high time you got to know this. The only people who know this are Richard Nixon, us here, William Casey, Good Ol' Cap, and Tony Scalia, all well under control just like that little chickie you knocked up and aborted, you hellbound sunnofvabitch. Funny that she married an FBI agent. (laughs)

Dubya: (nervously laughs)

Bush Sr.: I was a young man, still just 41 years old, when that a-hole John F. Kennedy was thinking about closing down the CIA. My country called upon me that day, because I and a few others knew that we could not survive the Cold War without a functional tactical intelligence arm with the ability to circumvent the law when necessary and perform black ops. We could not defeat the Soviets without such an apparatus, as well as control our own citizenry better by building ever small and more sensitive surveillance devices.

Dubya: (sweating) What did you do, Daddy?

Cheney: (reaches into his pocket, pulls out a carefully folded page, unfolds it methodically and slaps it hard down on the table) This is a report on a group of British researchers who are going to release their findings next month in an article in the Washington Post. It says that, in during the assassination of President Kennedy, based on sophisticated new audio analysis of the Zapruder Film and other microphones present, there was a 96.3% chance that there was a second shooter positioned on the Grassy Knoll in Dallas.

Bush Sr.: (forcefully) There was a fucking 100% chance, that's for sure.

Dubya: (his eyes very slowly gaining awareness) But that means... What are you...? No.. (his fearful, nervous look changes to nervous naughtiness, like the cat that swallowed the canary) Oh, Poppy (giggles), you are a baaaad man.

Bush Sr.: The baddest, son. Don't you ever forget that. I shot down Nip zeros in the Big One, and I'll still whip your ass at 78! Go ahead and try me, Squealer. (folds his arms with a confident smile)

Cheney: (with an affectionate punch to Bush Sr.'s shoulder) Oh, you da' man, sir. You da'man. Now do you understand, Dubya? Didn't you ever wonder why you, the family fuckup, were so quickly promoted to the ranks and become President? Why we sent Jeb out to be governor of Florida, where those damned Yankee Jews were threatening to take the state away from us. Not while I live and breathe, by God!

Bush Sr.: Easy Dick, don't get so excited. Your ticker is one good anxiety attack away from the great unknown. Ease back, pal.

Dubya: (staring off into space) Hot damn, if that ain't the coolest thing! (leaping to his feet) You know what, fellas? I'm gonna invite that fat-ass Ted Kennedy over to watch fucking "13 Days" next week! And I'm gonna fix us up some hot dogs and popcorn, real shitty stuff, too. And I'm gonna tell him what a great guy his brother was. And all the time... (giggles) I'm gonna know... (giggles) That my daddy wasted his brother.. (giggles) And he'll be wonderin' why I'm looking at him funny... (breaks into gales of laughter, holding his sides)

Bush Sr. rises from his seat, takes three steps and gives George a hard, open-handed slap to the ear.

Dubya: (whining) Owwwww! That hurt, Poppy.

Cheney: (leaning forward) Dubya, my boy, you must show some tact. You must never let on that you know this secret. 17 mean and women, including 3 CIA patriots, lost or gave their lives to protect this secret.

Bush, Sr.: (still standing) Don't sugarcoat it, Dick. This melonhead couldn't catch a clue with a bozo-sized baseball mitt. (Steps forward, cradles Dubya's face in his hands) Son... you're my child and I love you, but I swear to God that if you let this secret out that I will administer the poison that chews up your liver myself! IS THAT CLEAR?

Dubya: (eyes welling with tears) Okay, okay, you don't have to be so mean about it. I'm still inviting him over (defiant, but blinking, stare).

Bush, Sr.: (smiling) That's just fine, Junior. You're the president, you can do what you want. Just so we understand each other, son.

Dubya: (sniffling) Alright, alright. I do, Poppy. (pauses, lower lip quivering) Let's get back upstairs. The ladies'll be wonderin' what's become of us.

Bush, Sr.: You know, your mother will be very pleased that we finally had this conversation.

They all exit to the elevator, Bush Sr. first, then Cheney, then Dubya, sulking.

The doors close silently behind them and the elevator whirrs upward...

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