Turkish Delight

Friday, October 12, 2007

State of Denial features the continuing adventures of one of Satan’s loyal minions, a demon assigned to duty at the White House.

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I was in Iowa drawing mustaches on Hillary Clinton posters with Michelle Malkin when my cellphone rang. It was Dick Cheney. He wanted me back at the White House immediately.

“And I mean now” he snarled. OK, I couldn’t let that one pass.

“Or you’ll do what, exactly?” I asked.

“Oh.” Silence. “Well, I mean, could you please get here as soon as possible?”

I could almost hear Dick grinding yet more enamel off his teeth as he said that. I know baiting him is evil but, hey, I’m evil. Sue me.

I made a dinner date with Michelle for next Thursday, kissed her goodbye and knocked my cloven hoofs together three times. The next instant I was in the Oval Office, wafts of sulfur steaming from my horns. George and Dick were there. Dick looked flushed and upset, George was playing Halo 3 at his desk, his eyes fixed on the screen, making soft bam! bam! sounds with his mouth. In other words, everything was normal. I smiled graciously at Dick.

“Yes?”

“The fucking Congress needs to be stopped!” Dick snarled. “They’re about to screw up our entire foreign policy by voting to condemn the Turkish genocide of the Armenians after the First World War!”

“So?”

“So!?!?” Dick’s face turned that interesting shade of purple it sometimes does. I swear to God (oh, give me a break, it’s an expression) that can’t be healthy.

“The Turks are bullshit. They’ve withdrawn their ambassador. We need them on our side to stabilize fucking Iraq. This can’t happen!”

I shrugged. “Well, it was a genocide. I know the demon who was in charge of it.”

“WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT GENOCIDE?!?!” Dick’s face went from purple to green. I’d never seen that before. I briefly wondered if Dick was perhaps going to come join us earlier than his contract called for.

“Can I bomb Iran now?” George interrupted.

Dick whirled around and cuffed him across the head. George frowned and went back to his video game. Dick took three deep breaths.

“I. Do. Not. Care. About. What. The. Turks. Did. 90. Years. Ago.” He said slowly. “You are talking about human rights and ethics. I am talking about American fucking FOREIGN POLICY!!” He was shrieking again.

“You don’t care about human rights?”

“FUCK NO!!!”

That blast startled George, who looked up from his game. I turned to him.

“America apparently doesn’t care about human rights, Mr. Decider,” I said, my voice dripping innocence. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s fine with me, I don’t care much about them either. But, just so I’m clear, remind me again why you invaded Iraq?”

George started to say something, then stopped, puzzled. He turned to Dick.

“Why did we invade Iraq?”

OK, now, did any of you watch the old Looney ‘Toons cartoons, where Elmer Fudd’s head expands to three times it’s normal size and smoke comes out his ears? Dick’s head did that. I was very impressed. That man has a bright future in Hell.

“I don’t want to talk about Iraq,” he gasped. “We need to do something about Congress”.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like change their votes. Call in their contracts!”

“You’d be surprised how few contracts Satan has with Congressmen,” I told him. “Sure, we have some, but the Big Game is Presidential Candidates. I’ve got every one of them except Obama, Edwards and Kucinich.”

George looked up. “Can we bomb them?” he asked.

“Bomb who?” Dick muttered, annoyed at the interruption.

“Congress. If I can’t bomb Iran, can I bomb Congress?”

Dick looked at me.

“Can he?”

I shrugged. “Up to you. Satan has no opinion on the matter. He’s in charge of Hell down below, but you’re free to create whatever Hell you want to up here.”

A smile began to creep over Dick’s face. “Yeah!” he said. “YEAH!”

He barged by me to grab the telephone on George’s desk. “Get me the Joint Chiefs of Staff!” he bellowed into it.

George shrugged disinterestedly and went back to his video game. I ducked out the side door. It looked as if Dick had things under control again, and if I hurried, Michelle wouldn’t be done with her magic markers...