The other night, I made the mistake of reading about various Bush henchmen and their continued attacks on President Obama. I followed this with a viewing of the film, "Reservoir Dogs." Further complicating things, I then finished up some week-old Chinese takeout. That night, I dreamed that Quentin Tarantino had remade his great film, with a cast of far right Republicans. Or is that redundant? To the best of my recollection, here's how the opening scene went.
FADE IN: A bunch of people dressed conservatively, sit around a table at a breakfast cafe. MR. RUSH is in the middle of a story.
MR. RUSH: As I was saying, "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue," is about a guy who likes big
missiles. He can't get enough of them.
MR. DICK: Whoa, baby, tell that to the tourists. Whe Toby Keith sings that song, it is strictly about Iraq. He likes it when big rockets hit Iraq. The whole thing was my idea. I'd like a little credit.
MR. AR: Nah, I think the song is metaphorical. Keith thinks we should hit anybody we convince people need to be hit. Granted, The Iraq thing worked well. It never gets old.
MR. RUSH: Damn straight. I see how you worked it into your speech again. Great. And saying Obama should say thanks every day for that he inherited a world without Saddam? F***** genius!
MR. ARI: Is that really necessary.
MISS ANN: Oh, Mr. Ari, stop being so prissy. You sound like a faggot.
MR. ARI: You ever call me that in a dream, you better wake up and apologize.
MR. RUSH: So, here's the deal. Bush has said he's not going to criticize the new guy. What does that mean? Anyone?
MISS ANN: That we should double up our attacks to make up the differnce?
MR. RUSH: Pretty smart for a feminazi!
MISS ANN: Bite me! So, who has the good stuff?
MR. RUSH: Oxycontin? Sweet.
MR. DICK: No, you idiot. Obama stuff.
MISS ANN: Mr. Rush thought it might be time to start mentioning that Obama once belonged to the same mosque as one of the 9/11 bombers.
MR. RUSH: Belonged? Why don't I say he owned the mosque.
MR DICK: But he was never around. Absentee landlord.
Lots of laughter. Mr. Rush lights up a cigarette. MR. KARL walks in and yells to the waitress.
MR. KARL: A short stack, toast and bacon!
MISS ANN: Isn't that kind of a heavy breakfast, Humpty Dumpty?
MR. KARL: Hell, that's what I eat when I make up my mind about breakfast.
MR. DICK: I was talking about something. Wasn't I talking about something?
MISS ANN: What Mr. Karl was working on?
Mr. Rush: Correctamundo!
MR. KARL: Well, I was working on a column this morning that suggests if the President ever gets lost, he looks at Dubya's playbook. And to not be afraid to to steal an idea or two from it.
MR. RUSH: (Smiling). Cool. What ,specifically, are you going to mention?
A long silence. Mr. Karl looks forlorn.
MR. KARL: (Nervously) What about the economy?
MR. RUSH: Whatever you do, don't say you hope the President's attempts to fix it fail. Man I really got hosed for that!
MR. DICK: Get back over to the Chavez thing. Compare him to Hitler.
MR. RUSH: Yeah. I never really had any problems with the guy. But anytime you bring up Hitler, it always gets people moving and grooving.
MISS ANN: Careful, porky, you're not a disc jockey anymore.
MR. KARL: How about some gay stuff. Something about Obama having those Somali pirates whacked because Obama was having an affair with one of them and the guy was about to announce it to the world press.
Long Silence. Then, laughter.
MR. RUSH: Hell, if you don't use it, I will. It's freaking brilliant, dude.
MR. KARL: Jeez. Now I've got my appetite back. Waitress, let me see a menu.
He starts to sing, "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue."
MISS ANN: So where does this leave us?
MR. ARI: I think we know our general direction, in any case. As long as we leave Mr. Bush out of it. He had a hard second term.
MISS ANN: Oh, come on, he spent most of it watching The Western Movie Channel and drinking straight from the bottle.
MR. DICK: Okay, then, just keep doing what you're doing. Remember, reality is very subjective. And Mr. Rush, no crap about not tipping. How can we say we took care of the middle class without tupping waitresses.
MR. RUSH: I don't care. I don't tip.
MR. DICK: I changed my mind . Mr. Ari, shoot this piece of crap.
MR. DICK: Okay, everybody. Let's go to work!