As I sat in deep contemplation under a banyan tree with my mocha
frappe, I came to an important conclusion: War must be
eliminated.
People shouldn’t have to go to war just because the
president says so. If leaders want to fight, they can fight ““
just them, “American Gladiators” style. I suppose the
title would have to be changed to “International
Gladiators,” or something a little more catchy, like
“Watch Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush Beat Each Other Up
With Giant Foam Q-Tips.”
The war on terrorism then would be Bush and Dick Cheney paired
against Osama bin Laden and one of his cave-dwelling homeboys. They
would be participating in events like dodging tennis balls and
rolling around in human hamster balls. If more than two forces were
involved, the competition would become more of a “Celebrity
Death Match,” free-for-all kind of event.
The World War II match would have included Franklin Delano
Roosevelt, Adolf Hitler, Winston Churchill, the French guy and
whoever else was involved. They would all be in a room, duking it
out. As well as being entertaining, the events would be
historically significant and educational, thus preventing future
generations from forgetting who the French guy was in World War
II.
The contestants of each team would undoubtedly fight while
wearing extravagant costumes. Bush would probably be decked out in
a stars-and-stripes-adorned unitard, with “Dubya”
printed in capital letters on the back. His bright red helmet would
have the slogan, “Don’t Mess With Texas” on the
back. He’d also wear the all-American classic shoes ““
white high-top Converse All-Stars.
Cheney would be dressed similarly, with a Batman-style tool
belt, rigged up with a defibrillator, an emergency respirator and a
bedpan. At the start of the match, Bush (the U.S. superhero) would
come swinging in on cables and land gracefully on the mats, while
Cheney would be wheeled in by his nursing staff.
After landing, Bush would begin jogging in place, throwing
punches at the air, and revving up the roaring crowd which would be
simultaneously cheering for and hysterically laughing at their
clownish leaders.
This plan is the best possible war deterrent simply because
Saddam would rather give in to U.N. weapon inspections requirements
than be caught dead in some revealing leotard. Bush, on the other
hand, would rather just leave Iraq alone than have to see Saddam in
a leotard.
If the confrontation was to take place, this is how it would
play out in the Green Room, before the fight.
G Dubs: Dude, you really wanna do this? We look stupid in these
unitards.
Saddam: Yeah, I agree. Man, everyone’s gonna see us.
G Dubs: I’ve been workin’ on a mean half-Nelson
““ you better watch your back.
Saddam: Well, I was learning Brazilian jiu-jitsu until I had my
instructor killed. (Saddam growls and looks at Bush fiercely)
G Dubs: Me and my trainer bench-pressed 20 pounds this week, and
I assure you, I was responsible for lifting at least two of those
pounds.
Cheney: Yeah, today I made it all the way around the nursing
station without stopping. I’m pumped! (Growls toothlessly at
Saddam, who recoils in fear.)
(A tense silence ensues.)
Saddam: Hey, I want you to know that I thought your State of the
Union address was delivered just superbly.
G Dubs: You really think so? I thought it wasn’t so
hot.
Saddam: No really! I think it was great!
G Dubs: (coyly) Gee, thanks Saddam! Hey, I’m sorry I
called your country the armpit of the world, but I’ve just
been under so much pressure lately. My country thinks I’m an
idiot, I can’t talk right, and worst of all, I’m from
Texas!
Saddam: Hey, it’s OK, man. I never meant to hurt your
feelings with all the stuff I said.
G Dubs: (extends hand) Friends?
(Saddam rejects his hand and gives him a bear hug.)
Stage Manager: Saddam, Bush, you’re on in 10 seconds!
(Bush and Saddam, holding hands, prepare to walk onto the mats
to discuss an agreement.)
Epilogue: The Hussein family and the Bushes now regularly
vacation together at the waterfront villa in Haiti that Saddam and
“Dubya” designed together over mocha frappes.