God Help America!
By Bimbo de Bourgoyne y los Lobos Contreras
When I heard that W. was
coming to Europe, the first thing I did was call up Scott McClellan
and ask for a White House press pass so that I could get into
a dinner hosted by the Président
de la République Française. McClellan said that
I would have to be recommended for clearance by a fictitious
news source, or else a high ranking Republican. So I called Babs
Tutwiller, though she never got back. Then I phoned Bill O’Reilley,
but he said he was busy interviewing a new executive assistant
and would not be able to help until she’d passed the loofa
test. Finally, in a fit of total desperation, I put through a
text message to a night porter of the Mayflower Hotel in Washington,
Leroy Otis Larue (LOL), with whom I was once on intimate terms.
Leroy offered to help, in exchange for purely mercenary favors,
and within twenty four hours, my White House press credentials
magically arrived in the mailbox of my Paris Hôtel Particulier.
Off I went to dinner at the Elysée Palace, with enough diamond accouterments
to set off metal detectors all over Paris. But that turned out to be irrelevant
since I was waved right on through security and up to the head table where
the Windbaguette was seated beside W. and Laura - not in her midnight blue
Oscar de la Renta gown with crystal embroidery, but in a frumpy brown tweed
suit. Madame Chirac wisely chose to avoid red chiffon Lacroix couture with
cutouts, following her lamentable experience in the fashion limelight at the
time of the Queen’s visit.
Dinner was served and wine was poured. W. drank diet mineral water.
Barely halfway through the first course, langoustines in a sauce derived from
emulsified black truffles, the Windbaguette started to lecture W., saying as
to how he was happy the elections in Iraq had gone better than expected, but
that he had still been right all along about the war, and the mounting deficits
and death toll were there to prove it.
W. did not like that tone, and so suggested the Windbaguette keep his nose
out of the Middle East and go worry about his own problems in Côte d’Ivoir,
though he had been meaning to get around to asking about France’s willingness
to contribute monetarily to the cause of democracy.
He wasn’t giving a penny, the Windbaguette insisted, fast on the draw.
And furthermore, he’d like to remind W. of the necessity of America contributing
to France’s anemic economy by encouraging lowering trade barriers, removing
wine and foie gras taxes, and promoting Louis Vuitton’s flagship store
W. said he’d better stop right there because his dander was getting
The Windbaguette said his dander hadn’t been up in years, and this
because of a miracle cream one of his mistresses had found while they were
on ski holiday near Chamonix one winter.
W. said he’d heard such things existed but had never personally tried
the product, though it might be something that the Rovster could be interested
in, especially if used to promote his abstinence only policy to Fundamentalist
The windbaguette slapped W. on the back, and said at last they’d found
some common ground on which to build a relationship. Think of it, said the
Windbaguette, the ointment was made in top secrecy in a factory near Limoges,
and could be produced in enough mass quantity to export to the US, at an exclusive
price of course. And he said that W. should think of the implications a successful
marketing campaign could have upon his right wing base, and how that would
be just the thing for Hillary, and the emasculated Democrats, to vote through
Congress for fear of being labeled pro-sex maniacs if they didn’t.
W. said he liked the idea, and he was going to get right on it as soon as he
got back to Washington. He then slapped the Windbaguette on the back and said
that he was inviting him to his ranch soon for some quality male bonding time.
The Windbaguette said he’d bring samples along, and W. said he’d
get a focus group together to test them out.
The Windbaguette and W. shook hands on the deal, and this reporter flew out
the door faster than a US Senator running to a Viagra sale.