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The President – Episode 205

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 02/22/2011

Through a series of unfortunate tragedies, 27-year-old Deputy Secretary of Transportation Holden Jackson became the youngest President in the history of the United States. Now he’s unemployed..

Episode 205 – A Noose For Griffith Stone

Vincenzo: Why you do this, huh? You make-a my momma cry!

Momma Vincenzo: (to the left of the podium, in tears)  Mamma mia! My baby boy!

Vincenzo: I no have-a the sex with that girl. She a lie. I’m a happily married man with the kids. Why I make-a the sex to a stripper girl like that? It make-a no sense! Next question.

Shimansky: That was Senator Vincenzo earlier this afternoon addressing reporters on the allegations that he had sexual relations with a seventeen-year-old exotic dancer after a recent public forum. The Democrats are already in enough hot water as it is and a scandal like this to one of their more prominent and ethnic Senators could greatly hamper President Stone’s administration ever further.

(Holden mutes his old black and white and high-fives his roommate, character actor and former Vice President of the United States of America, Gary Busey..)

Jackson: Alright! Suck it, President Jerkbutt!

Busey: (chuckling)  Yeah, those Italians sure do like their women ‘al dente’.

Jackson: Man, this on top of what I’ve got planned for later today is really gonna put a chink in Stone’s armor.

Busey: (frowning)  Whoa, you’re workin’ with the Chinese?

Jackson: (grinning)  Nope. I’m formin’ an old-fashioned hippie protest.


(Wilbur Chamberlain is manning the phones downtown for the Holden Jackson Reelection Campaign headquarters..)

Chamberlain: Yes, I’ve been on hold for quite some time now. … Yes, hello. My name is Wilbur Chamberlain and I’m looking into how one goes about filing a new political party. … Just a couple of forms? Brilliant. … The name? Uh… (shuffling some papers, adjusting his glasses)  Let’s see here, The Wicked Awesome Super Radical Totally Tubular Mothereffing Republicans And Democrats Suck Hard Third Party. … Hello?


(President Griffith Stone is composing a letter to the President of Honduras when he’s alerted to a commotion outside the White House. Stone steps outside onto the balcony, joining several Secret Service agents staring out at the Mall across the lawn..)

Stone: What’s going on over there, Price?

Agent Price: Looks like a rather large protest, sir.

Stone: (shaking his head)  Great. Hippies.


(Across the street on the Mall, Holden and Gary — in brand-new tie-dye shirts — are making their way through a mob of thousands protesting the President’s new gun ban bill..)

Protestors: No guns, no peace! No guns, no peace! No guns, no peace!

Jackson: (glancing around worriedly)  Hmm, not as many hippies as I expected.

Busey: (sniffing the air)  I’m not smelling any patchouli. It’s more of a bacony aroma.

Jackson: (dialing his cellphone)  Yeah, Wilbur. I’m at this hippie protest we set up and there’s no hippies. Should I start handing out these weed cigarettes I brought?

Chamberlain: No! God in Heaven, Holden. You’re protesting a gun ban bill. Hippies are generally for things of that nature. Yours is more of a NASCAR/Bass Fishing/Ten-Point Buck Hunting-type of crowd.

Jackson: Aww, but we’re wearing tie-dye shirts!

Redneck: Nice shirt, faggot!

Chamberlain: Well, it’ll be easy to spot you in the crowd at least. Now get up there and give one of those wonderful freestyle speeches you’re so infamous for. Don’t hold back. This is your triumphant return to American politics. And remember, you’re pro-gun.

Jackson: Pro-gun, got it.

Chamberlain: And we should also — at a further date — discuss the name of your third party, as it is quite cumbersome to–

Jackson: The name stays, Wilby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some Confederates to rise up with.  *CLICK*

Chamberlain: Oh, dear.


Vincenzo: Now you make-a my grandmama cry! Grandmama, don’t-a cry for your baby Salvio!

Grandmama Vincenzo: It’s-a too late, I’m-a cryin’ the pizza sauce outta my eyeballs for my baby girl’s a-baby boy!

Shimansky: We interrupt Senator Vincenzo’s press conference to take you live to the National Mall, where former President Holden Jackson has just taken the stage — in a Hawaiian shirt, for some reason — to address a capacity crowd protesting President Stone’s new gun ban bill. Let’s take a listen..

Jackson: People of the Flyover States. I come before you today with a gun.

(New York Times reporter Jerry Thames’ eyes bulge..)

Thames: He’s got a gun!

(A number of media members scatter..)

Jackson: This is not a gun in the literal sense. But it is a gun, nonetheless. I have a gun of peace. A gun of knowledge. A gun of wisdom. A gun of freedom. The gun I speak to you about today…is my brain.

Protestors: (tepid applause)

Jackson: Mr. President, I ask you: Would you outlaw my brain?

Redneck: (from the back of the crowd)  Damn right! I like my brain!

Jackson: Would you make me check my brain at the door when I enter an airport or a hospital or a public school? Would you make me wait thirty days before acquiring a new brain? I can’t wait thirty days. I wanna use my brain now. I might not need it later.

Protestors: (tepid applause)

Jackson: This is America.

Protestors: (resounding applause, assorted hoots)

Jackson: And America is about right now. It’s not about later and it’s definitely not about never. It’s about right fucking now.

Protestors: (thunderous applause)

Jackson: And right fucking now there’s an old man who lives across the street from this field who wants to take your brains away. But I’m not gonna let him!

Redneck #1: Whoo!

Redneck #2: Yeah! America!

Redneck #3: Why you wearin’ a Hawaiian shirt?

Busey: (shouting from behind Holden on-stage)  It’s a tie-dye shirt! We thought you’d be hippies.

Jackson: Today. Right fucking now. I make a solemn promise to all you Southerners, Midwesterners and anti-government militia members: I will not let that old zombie eat your brains!

Protestors: (resounding confused applause)

Redneck #2: He wants to eat our guns?

Jackson: I have another gun. It’s my heart. And it’s exploding with joy right now, like I poured in too much gunpowder and it’s ripped my hands to bloody stumps. And I also have another gun. This gun.

(Holden pulls a pistol from the back of his jeans and fires it into the air..)

Jackson: Viva la gun!

(Uproarious applause rains down on the twenty-seven year-old former President as he’s dragged offstage by DCPD..)

Jackson: Gary! Have Wilby dip into the campaign’s bail money jar!

Busey: You got it, boss.  (leans into the microphone)  Guns! Guns! Guns! Guns!

(The protestors chant along with Gary Busey and a single tear trickles down Holden’s cheek as he’s placed in the back seat of a DCPD squad car..)

Jackson: I think we made a difference here today, fellas. And before you ask, I can explain the marijuana cigarettes in my back pocket.

Officer: Why are you wearin’ a Hawaiian shirt?


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