Dumbya in Paradise.

[Nlighten1]

While walking down the street one day, George "Dubya"
Bush is shot by a disgruntled NRA member.


His soul arrives in heaven and he is met by St. Peter
at the Pearly Gates. "Welcome to Heaven," says St.
Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a
problem: We seldom see a Republican around these
parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."


"No problem, just let me in; I'm a believer." says
Dubya.


"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from
the Man Himself: He says you have to spend one day in
Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose
where you'll live for eternity."


"But, I've already made up my mind; I want to be in
Heaven."


"I'm sorry, but we have our rules." And with that, St.
Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down,
down, down, all the way to Hell.


The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of
a lush, green golf course; the sun is shining in a
cloudless sky, the temperature is a perfect, balmy
72 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful clubhouse.
Standing in front of it are his dad and thousands of
other Republicans who had helped him out over the
years. Karl Rove, Dick Cheney, Jerry Falwell, the
whole of the "Right" are there; everyone is laughing,
happy, casually but expensively dressed. They run to
greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times
they'd all had getting rich at expense of the
"suckers and peasants". They play a friendly game of
golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.


The Devil himself comes up to Bush with a frosty
drink, "Have a Margarita and relax, Dubya!"


"Uh, I can't drink no more, I took a pledge," says
Junior, dejectedly.


"This is Hell, son: you can drink and eat all you
want and not worry, and it just gets better from
there!"


Dubya takes the drink and finds himself rather liking
the Devil, whom he thinks is a really very friendly guy
who tells funny jokes and pulls hilarious nasty pranks
kind of like a Yale Skull and Bones brother with real
horns. They are having such a great time that, before
he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a
big hug and waves as Bush steps on the elevator and
heads upward.


When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again,
and St. Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to
visit Heaven," the old man says, opening the gate. So
for the next 24 hours Bush is made to hang out with a
bunch of sweet, honest, good-natured people who enjoy
each other's company, talk about things other than
money, and treat each other decently. Not a nasty
prank or frat boy joke among them; no fancy country
clubs, no golf, and, while the food tastes great, it's
not caviar or lobster. And these people are all poor,
he doesn't see anybody he knows, and he isn't even
treated like someone special! Worst of all, to Dubya,
Jesus turns out to be some kind of Jewish hippie with
his endless 'peace' and 'do unto others' jive.


"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself, "Pat
Robertson never prepared me for this!"


The day done, St. Peter returns and says, "Well, then,
you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now
choose where you want to live for all eternity."


With the 'Jeopardy' theme playing softly in the
background, Dubya reflects for a minute, then
answers: "Well, I would never have thought I'd say
this -- I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all
-- but I really think I belong in Hell with my
friends."


So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he
goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell. The doors
of the elevator open and he is in the middle of a
barren, scorched land covered with garbage and toxic
industrial waste, kind of like Houston. He is
horrified to see all of his friends, dressed in rags
and chained together, picking up the trash and
putting it in black trash bags. They are groaning and
moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.


The Devil comes over to Dubya and puts an arm around
his shoulder. "I don't understand," stammers a
shocked Dubya, "Yesterday I was here and there was a
golf course and a clubhouse and we ate lobster and
caviar and drank booze. We screwed around and had a
great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of
garbage, and everybody looks miserable!"


The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly, and purrs,
"Yesterday we were campaigning; today you
voted for us."