Dead Presidents

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription starring President Barack Obama, former President George W. Bush, and former President Bill Clinton prior to a press conference on aid for Haitian earthquake victims•

OBAMA: Alright, George, you wanna handle this press conference?
BUSH: Hell no.  I’m retired.  Clinton loved this shit, why don’t you go be President again, Bill?
CLINTON: Nope.  I wanted the job back for the longest time, but even I didn’t have to deal with crap like this.
OBAMA: Come on, guys.  Help a brother out.
BUSH: I didn’t even think I’d have to come back here again.  Why didn’t you call my dad to do this?
OBAMA: Your dad is 162 years old.  I think he’s done enough for his country
CLINTON: Yeah, plus you’re SO good at handling disasters, George.
BUSH: I’m never going to live that Katrina thing down, am I? 
OBAMA: You did drop the ball on that one.
BUSH: Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I was hanging out with President Obama.  Can you tell me where to go so I can show that I care about black people, Kanye West?
CLINTON: Come on, guys.  This is for the people of Haiti.
OBAMA: George, I’ll never criticize your administration again if you take all the questions in this press conference.
BUSH: Fuck that.  I’d rather be the taste-tester for Haitian drinking water.
CLINTON:  You might not want to say that into the microphone.
OBAMA: Seriously, one of you guys needs to take this one.  I need a break.  Bill…I’ll send Hillary on a diplomatic trip to Neptune if you handle this.
CLINTON:  Nope.  You’re on your own, kid.  I had my issues with Haiti in 1994.  Send Colin Powell and Jimmy Carter down there like I did.
OBAMA: But that was a political crisis, not a catastrophic disaster.  It is vastly more dangerous now.
BUSH: Exactly.  Send Colin Powell and Jimmy Carter down there.  I hate those dudes.
CLINTON: Ditto.  They are total dicks.
OBAMA: What do I have to do?  I’m begging you guys…just this once…wait…what are you two laughing at?
BUSH: Nothing…it’s just that…
CLINTON: Don’t tell him! 
BUSH: I have to, man.  I feel bad for him. 
OBAMA: What is it?
CLINTON: Fine.  We were going to play a practical joke on you.  When all the Presidents get together for a press conference like this, one of the ex-Presidents usually unzips his pants and lets a ball slide out while the current President speaks.
OBAMA: Jesus.
BUSH: Yeah…Bill actually did it at my Inauguration!
CLINTON: Oh, that wasn’t a practical joke.  I was trying to hook up with Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
BUSH: You hit that?  I always pegged you more as a Sandra Day O’Connor fan.
CLINTON: Yeah, I nailed her, too.
OBAMA: Guys, I don’t need this.
CLINTON: When I was President, Gerald Ford pulled his entire dick out behind my back at the NAFTA press conference.  You remember that, George?
BUSH: Nah, I was drunk until sometime in 1996.
OBAMA: Alright, it’s time.  You guys might want to stop laughing.
CLINTON: Shit, what do we care?  Constitutionally, we’re not even allowed to run for President again!  What do we have to lose?
OBAMA: People’s respect?  It might tarnish your legacies.
CLINTON: Legacies?  I got impeached and Dubya started like fifteen wars that we KNOW of. 
BUSH: He’s right, Barack.  Hell, we might both pull our balls out.
OBAMA: Please…think of the people in Haiti.
CLINTON: He’s got a point, George.  We’ll just give Obama a wedgie instead.  Oh…shhh…here’s the press.  Serious faces.
BUSH: I can’t stop smiling.
CLINTON: Think of Hillary and Condoleeza Rice passionately kissing each other while wearing white latex bodysuits and standing in the middle of some sprinklers.
BUSH: Jesus Christ.  I wish you would have taught me that trick when I was President so I didn’t come across as such a smarmy prick all the time.
OBAMA: Alright…just go back into the White House, please.  I got this.

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription starring President Richard Nixon and Elvis Presley•

NIXON: Thanks for coming by, Elvis.  I know that it’s your birthday today and my birthday is tomorrow, so I figured we’d have ourselves a little party.
ELVIS: No problem, Mr. President.  You know I dig your Oval Office parties!  Can you turn the tape recorder off, though?  You know how I roll…
NIXON: Of course, we wouldn’t want to get ourselves in trouble.  Oh wait, I’m the President!  I can’t get in trouble.  Did you bring what I asked? 
ELVIS: Yes, sir.  Wait a second…who is this guy with the glasses?  Is he a Narc?  This guy gonna turn us in?  I don’t like guys with glasses.
NIXON: Well, you had glasses on when you came in.  They are right there on the table.
ELVIS: Those aren’t glasses.  Those are shades, man.  Seriously, he can stay, but can you have him stop looking at me?
NIXON: Wow…check out those cuff links!  That is the definition of bling, Elvis.
ELVIS: Man, these are diamonds created from the cremated bones of Tyrannosaurus Rex legs.  You know how much these cost?
NIXON: How much?
ELVIS: I don’t know, Dick…I was fucking HIGH AS HELL when I bought them!
NIXON: (Laughs)  That reminds me…did you bring the sticky-icky?  Let’s get this party started.  I might even take my suit jacket off!
ELVIS: Oh, I brought it.  This creepy dude with glasses has to leave, though.
NIXON: He’s fine, Elvis.  Let’s hotbox the Oval Office and get some girls in here.  I want to dance.  Dick Nixon wants to get down!
ELVIS: Creepy guy with glasses can stay, but I’ll karate chop him if he doesn’t stop looking at me.  Where’s the Memphis Mafia…they brought the girls.  You wanna roll a blunt for us, Dick?
NIXON: Absolutely.  Happy Birthday, King.
ELVIS: Thank you, thankyouverymuch.  Happy Birthday, Mr. President

•This is a special Historically Accurate Transcription (Christmas edition) starring Joseph, Mary, and Baby Jesus•

JOSEPH: What the…
MARY: Let me explain.  An angel named Gabriel came and…
JOSEPH: I knew it!  I knew it, Mary!  I knew you weren’t “just getting fat”!  How could you make a fool out of me again?
MARY: Again?  What are you talking about?
JOSEPH: There was that guy…at the Inn.  The one who wouldn’t let us stay there.
MARY: What about him?
JOSEPH: Remember how I went back inside afterward?  Well, he told me that he wouldn’t let us stay because you came here in the past with strange men and left an hour after checking in each time.  He said he didn’t run that type of business.
MARY: You’re making things up.
JOSEPH: And now I come back from gathering firewood and you have a fucking BABY?  No wonder you’ve been covering yourself up even more than usual.
MARY: It was a miracle!  It was a virgin birth!
JOSEPH: The only miraculous thing about this is that I haven’t given you a backhand yet.  And the only virgin here is me since you were apparently tired from fucking every shepherd in Galilee
MARY: He’s the son of God!
JOSEPH: Well, you better call God up and tell him to help you get your shit. 
MARY: It is our duty to raise him.
JOSEPH: No, it is my duty to tell every woman around that Ol’ Joseph is back on the market and that since I’m the only man in Jerusalem who hasn’t been inside Mary, I’m the only man in Jerusalem who is gonorrhea-free.
MARY: You’ll be sorry, Joseph.  This is the Messiah and I’m going to name him Jesus.
JOSEPH: Jesus?  Why?  Is he part Mexican?  You said he’s the son of God.  Oh wait…I guess God is Mexican.  Yes, I’m sure that’s the case.  It’s clear from the high-paying jobs they are given and the respect they are treated with by others that they are the Chosen ones.
MARY: Fine.  Leave me, Joseph.  You will see that you are missing out on something very special here.  This boy will become the light of the world.
JOSEPH: I’m not going anywhere.  You are.  Take Luís, Jr. or whatever his name is and hit the road.  Joseph is calling an escort, biyatch!  And as for your little boy, I’m calling the Jews and letting them know we’ve got a troublemaker on our hands!

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription featuring George W. Bush and Rick Perry•

PERRY: Are you understanding this, George?
BUSH: I’m trying.  Am I holding this the right way?
PERRY: I’m gonna be honest — I don’t have a goddamn clue how to use one of these things.
BUSH: Do we plug it in somewhere?  Is this one of them iKindle’s?  I guess we’ll follow the kid’s lead.
PERRY: Yeah, this kid is amazing.  He hasn’t messed up once.  I don’t know how he knows all of this.
BUSH: It’s impressive, but I hate that they are teaching foreign languages like this in our schools.
PERRY: I know…I might be Governor of Texas, but even I can’t read this Spanish book.
BUSH: Oh, I can read Spanish.  This isn’t Spanish.  This type of language is proof that we’re letting the terrorists win.  It’s in Arabic, or Ebonics or something.
KID: Actually, this book is in English.
PERRY: On second thought, I don’t like this kid’s attitude one bit.  He shouldn’t get uppity with us just because you and I have probably executed most of his relatives.
BUSH:  Exactly.  Look how long his shorts are.  I think Obama let him out of Guantanamo.  If you get into the White House, you should open it back up for business and make him the first customer.
PERRY: Do Presidents have to do a lot of this, George?  I’m okay with visiting kids — even brown ones like in Houston and San Antonio — but I don’t know about reading publicly.
BUSH:  Well, I went to great lengths to avoid it, Rick.  Hell, if you remember, I staged 9/11 just to get out of reading out loud.
PERRY: Holy shit, that’s why you did it?  What a brilliant move!  It got you out of that classroom in Florida that morning AND allowed you to invade Iraq!  You’re a genius!
BUSH: Two birds, one stone, Rick.  That wasn’t even a Rove idea, either.  It was all “43”.
PERRY: You did have to read My Pet Goat that morning, though.
BUSH: I was so drunk that morning that I had no idea what I was looking at.  I thought it was a menu from Denny’s.  Fortunately for me, Andrew Card came over and whispered, “We had the government go ahead and mastermind a massive terrorist attack if you want to get out of here.”
PERRY: And you mosey’d on out!
BUSH: Damn right, mosey’d right out.  I amscrayed right into history, if I can use a little Latin.
KID: That was Pig Latin, and just one word of it.
BUSH: You are really pushing your luck, kid, both with your disrespect and the fact that you tucked that awful baby blue shirt into your jorts.
PERRY: I like your style, Dubya.  We’re just two authentic Texans, aren’t we?
BUSH: With the cowboy boots, belt buckles, and debating skills to prove it.  Two tough sumbitches who just happened to be male cheerleaders while mired in sub-mediocrity at their respective colleges.
PERRY: Real quick, George…if you had your choice, what book would you rather be reading right now?  On the count of three, we’ll both answer that question:  1…2…3!
BUSH and PERRY (IN UNISON): A POP-UP BOOK OF NOLAN RYAN THROWING A NO-HITTER AGAINST GAY PEOPLE AND IMMIGRANT ABORTION DOCTORS WHO LOVE TEXAS AND KNOW ALL OF THE DEPARTMENTS OF THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT!!!
PERRY: Yee-haw!
BUSH: Wow…did we just become best friends?

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription starring Senator Robert F. Kennedy and a busboy in the kitchen of the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, June 1968•

BUSBOY: Senator Kennedy!  Oh no!  Senator Kennedy, are you hit?
RFK: You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
BUSBOY: You’re bleeding!  What a tragedy!
RFK: Seriously?  Nobody saw this coming?  Not ONE person on my staff felt like I might be a target?
AIDE: I’m right here, Senator, we’re getting you some help!
RFK: Thanks…AFTER someone shot me in the head.  Dude, EVERYONE knew that this would happen!  You couldn’t have gotten me some security?
AIDE: It never crossed our minds that…
RFK: You’re so fucking retarded.  If I live, you’re all fired and I’m going to fuck each and every one of your wives.  Better yet, I’ll fuck them and then have them killed, like I did to Marilyn Monroe.
BUSBOY: Senator, here’s a rosary…
RFK: What am I going to do with a rosary?  Put it in the hole in my head to stop my brains from leaking out on to the floor of the Ambassador Hotel’s pantry.  And why am I being attended to by a busboy?  I didn’t spill soup on my tie — I GOT SHOT IN THE HEAD.
BUSBOY: But…
RFK: And you’re MEXICAN!  Also, you look exactly like the guy who just shot me.
BUSBOY: Oh, Senator, I am praying for you.
RFK: You should pray for my staff because they are in deep shit if I don’t leave the hospital in a box.  I mean, holy fucking shit, didn’t ANYONE see this coming?
AIDE: The ambulance is on the way.
RFK: I want an answer!!!  We watched my brother get assassinated.  We watched Malcolm X get assassinated.  We just saw Dr. King gets assassinated.  Not one person on my staff realized, “Well, Bobby’s shaking things up, too, maybe we should build him a bulletproof hat?”
AIDE: You’re gonna be okay, Senator.
RFK: AM I?  Am I really going to be okay?  As Marcellus Wallace would say, “I’m pretty fucking far from okay.”
BUSBOY: Hold my hand, sir…Hail Mary, full of grace..
RFK: SOMEBODY GET THIS MEXICAN AWAY FROM ME!  No wonder I got shot.  Anyone can get near me!  Seriously, you guys already let somebody put a gun against the back of my head and pull the trigger.  Can you at least get this motherfucker away from me?  He’s creeping me out.  Also, he’s touching me…if I die I’m gonna have to take a shower before going to Hell because there is too much Mexican on me.
AIDE: The ambulance has arrived…
RFK: Great, I’m sure you guys won’t screw this up, either.  Here’s a hint:  don’t let the stretcher fall out of the back of the ambulance while we’re driving down the freeway.  I know it seems like I don’t need to say that, but YOU LET SOMEBODY SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD!

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription starring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X•

KING: Yo…Brother Malcolm, what it do?
MALCOLM: Hey!  How’s it going, Doc?  What’s new?
KING: Nothing, man.  I’m getting ready for this March On Washington.  I’m making a speech to a bunch of crackers at the Lincoln Memorial.
MALCOLM: Yeah…I heard.  Good luck with that…
KING: Shit, no one listens to what I’m saying anyway.  A lot of good all my other speeches have done so far.  I’m just gonna change my tactics.
MALCOLM: Like what?  You know I’m not down with that non-violence shit, but it seems to work for you.
KING: Nope.  I’m tired of it.  I’m announcing a new way of doing business at this March.
MALCOLM: What do you have in mind?
KING: Well, I had a dream and I’m gonna talk about it.
MALCOLM:  You’re gonna talk about a dream?  I don’t know, Doc.  That sounds boring.
KING: Naw…you’ll dig it.  I was dreaming about punching white people.  I’m going to announce the new tactic:  Punch A White Guy.
MALCOLM: Whoa, homie.  That’s a big change!
KING: Hell yeah.  Punch a white guy, sleep with the white women, and eat white babies.
MALCOLM: Martin, you’ve been getting some respect.  Things are still rough, but maybe you shouldn’t throw it all away by doing this, especially when your audience will be so big.
KING: That’s the best time!  We’re gonna have a big, diverse group of people in front of us.  I’m going to have the brothas turn and punch the closest white person!  I thought you’d love this!
MALCOLM: Naw, bro…you should stick to what you’ve been doing.  It’s a good balance with what I’m doing.  It’s a good cop, bad cop thing.  It works.  Slowly, but it works.
KING: I’m changing my name, too.  Not to that Muslim shit like you guys, but to something cool…King Martin Fucks Your White Women.  “The Second”.
MALCOLM: I think you’re making a mistake, Doc.
KING: What do you think I should do?  Go up there and talk about how I dream about my kids playing with the kids of the people holding us down?
MALCOLM: Yeah…actually I do.  Keep doing what you’ve been doing.
KING: I’m gonna say, “You’re right.  We’re not equal.  Black folks are WAY better at basketball than you crackers.  Also, bigger dicks.”
MALCOLM: No…no, don’t do that, Doc.
KING: I’m going to say, “Do you know where I see white people and black people in the future?” and then pause and say, “STILL ON DEEZ NUTS!!!”.
MALCOLM: Well, I’m gonna pray that you think differently, Martin.  I think you can do better than that.
KING: Maybe.  Who knows what I’ll do, Malcolm?  I’m fucking high as hell right now.  You wanna hit some of this Indo?
MALCOLM: No thanks.  Listen, I gotta run.  I’ve gotta prayer group I’m meeting.  I hope things work out for you, Doc.
KING: Word. 
KING:  (After Malcolm’s gone)  Is it me, or is he turning into a bitch?

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription starring President Herbert Hoover and President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt•

HOOVER: Oh, don’t bother getting up or anything.  It’s not like I’m still President until noon.  Yeah, that’s not disrespectful at all.  I’ll just go ahead and pay respects to you.  No reason to abide by 150 years of tradition when Franklin D. Roosevelt is involved, right?
FDR: My legs are like Americans after four years of your Presidency, Mr. Hoover:  They don’t work.
HOOVER: My apologies, Mr. President-elect.  Maybe someday an inventor will figure out a way for people like you to get around more easily — like, I don’t know, a chair with wheels on it?  Imagine the ingenuity! 
FDR: I know that you’re bitter because I kicked your ass in the election, but what I really want to know is why you have a permanent look of disgust on your face.  You’re either a sour, angry man or need to go to the bathroom really bad.
HOOVER: You know, I was always curious — are you a beard for Eleanor or are you just naturally attracted to women who look like their faces caught on fire and were extinguished with a sock full of rocks?
FDR: Do you feel more in touch with the average American now that you’re going to be unemployed?
HOOVER: I’ll answer that question when you tap dance.
FDR: Another joke about my disability.  Classy.
HOOVER: Since you were late arriving at the White House and then broke tradition by rudely forcing me to come outside and greet you, I took it upon myself to think of some helpful hints for living in the Executive Mansion.
FDR: I’m sure this isn’t going to be the least bit mean-spirited.
HOOVER: Basically, it’s just a map of where the elevators are, President Linguine Legs.  You might want to install some fire alarms, too.
FDR: That’s very nice of you.  Should I call you if I want the economy to suffer a devastating and spectacular crash?  You seem to be the expert on instigating financial disasters.
HOOVER: You must save a lot of money on shoes.  Do you just have one spotlessly clean pair with soles that have never touched the ground?
FDR: Being able to get by wearing the same pair of shoes is helpful, especially since your economic policies since 1929 forced me to eat my other shoes for sustenance.
HOOVER: This may be harsh, but I hope you find yourself engulfed in a vicious World War with the future of the world at stake and end up dying JUST before the end of the conflict.
FDR: Or, I could follow the precedent that you set and do absolutely nothing to rectify problems.
HOOVER: Does Eleanor get confused and eat out of your dog Fala’s bowl, or is she able to figure out which one is hers?
FDR: Totally uncalled for.

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription starring President Abraham Lincoln and General George B. McClellan•

McCLELLAN: But why are you being such a dick?
LINCOLN: I’m not being a dick.
McCLELLAN: You’re being a dick.
LINCOLN: I’m just sayin’…stop frontin’.
McCLELLAN: Whatever, dude.  You try getting excited about fighting for MARYLAND.
LINCOLN: I told you, I’m not letting you retreat to New Hampshire “just in case”.
McCLELLAN: You’ll be sorry.  You might as well just give Maine to the Confederates now.
LINCOLN: You know what you’re problem is, dude?
McCLELLAN: What?  Tell me what my problem is.
LINCOLN: You’re jealous of my height.
McCLELLAN: Not cool, homie.  Not cool.
LINCOLN: Let’s face the facts…I’m 6’4” of frontier goodness and you can fit in my stovepipe hat.
McCLELLAN: Are you done with this bullshit?
LINCOLN: I’m HONEST ABE…no bullshit from me, “Napoleon-Minus-The-Military-Genius”.
McCLELLAN: That’s it…
LINCOLN: What?  What you gonna do?  DO something!  I dare you.
McCLELLAN: I saw your Twitter - “If General McClellan does not want to use the army, I would like to borrow it for a time.”  Real funny…how about your shove your army up your ass?
LINCOLN: At least it would finally be doing something.
McCLELLAN: Fuck you, dude.
LINCOLN: Sorry, I can’t hear you.  Can you perhaps stand on the table so the sound reaches my ears, little man?
McCLELLAN: Whatever.  You’ve turned into a real dick.
LINCOLN: Go get me General Burnside and hit the bricks, shorty.

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription starring President Abraham Lincoln, Detective Allan Pinkerton, and General John A. McClernand•

LINCOLN: Pinkerton, would you quit staring at me like that?  You’re creeping me out.
PINKERTON: Sorry, Mr. President.  I forgot you have eyes in the back of your head.
LINCOLN: What the hell did I tell you about speaking to me like you think you’re something?  Take the bass out of your voice, Pinkerton, or you’ll be searching for pickpockets in the Nebraska Territory.
PINKERTON: Yes, sir.
LINCOLN: General…uh…General…which one are you again?
PINKERTON: Mr. President, you’re speaking to…
LINCOLN: Did I fucking ask you?  I’m not even looking at you, asshole.  Jesus Christ.  I get it…you’re a detective…you’ve got all the answers…can you let the important people discuss important things, Inspector Gadget?
GENERAL: I am General McClernand, Mr. President.
LINCOLN: McClernand?  So, I have to deal with a McClellan AND a McClernand?  No wonder this army is doing nothing.  What do you think about General McClellan’s performance?
PINKERTON: Mr. President, I can answer tha…
LINCOLN: ……..
PINKERTON: I’m going to go smoke a cigar.
LINCOLN: That Scottish bastard hasn’t left my side since before I was inaugurated, McClellan.
GENERAL: It’s McClernand, sir.  McClellan is the short guy.
LINCOLN: Yes, the midget.  The little fella.  Don’t you just want to kick him in the mouth?  He’s like a cute little elf in a military uniform, isn’t he?
GENERAL: Sir?
LINCOLN: Listen, I know you’re from Kentucky…not far from where I was born.  I also know that you managed Stephen Douglas’s Presidential campaign in 1860.  How’d that go for you?  Who did he face again?  OH THAT’S RIGHT…ME! 
GENERAL: I don’t understand your point, Mr. President.
LINCOLN: I don’t have a point!  That’s the great thing about being President!  I just get to say shit!  How’s Douglas doing?  Oh, that’s right, he’s dead.  Looks like you bet on the wrong horse, McClellan!
GENERAL: It’s McClernand, sir.
LINCOLN: Whatever.  Listen, I know you want McClellan’s job, and I know you’re talking shit about Grant, but you’re kind of a douche, so you’re not getting either gig.  Tell McClellan to stop being a pussy and fight back.  And shave that beard, you look ridiculous.  What are you?  Young Santa?
GENERAL: Fine.
LINCOLN: SALUTE ME!  Tell McClellan to bring his booster seat into the tent so we can sit down and have a talk.

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription•

BUSH 43:  Oh my God…being President is SO boring.
LAURA:  SHHHHHH!
BUSH 43:  No, I will not SHHHHH!  I don’t care if I wake him up.
BUSH 41:  What are you complaining about?  Keep it down.
BUSH 43:  I’m tired and I had to go to meetings all day and then sit on an airplane just to watch Santa sleep and it’s not fair.
BUSH 41:  That’s not Santa.
BUSH 43:  Then why are we here?
LAURA:  That’s the Pope, dear.
BUSH 43:  Well, then I definitely shouldn’t have to sit here and watch THE POPE sleep!
BUSH 41:  He’s not sleeping, Shitbrain!  He’s dead!
CLINTON:  Keep it down, guys.
BUSH 43:  He’s dead?
LAURA:  Yes, he passed away, honey.
BUSH 43:  (Sadly)  Oh no…poor Santa.
BUSH 41:  IT’S NOT SANTA!
CLINTON:  SHHHHHHH!
BUSH 41:  Don’t shush me, Bill.  And zip your pants back up, for God’s sake.
CONDOLEEZZA:  No, Bill, keep those pants unzipped.  I’m bored and it’s time for some Jungle Fever.
BUSH 41:  Ewww.
BUSH 43:  But who will deliver the presents?  Who will feed the reindeer?
LAURA:  It’s not Santa, George.  It is the Pope. 
BUSH 43:  Then why are we here?
LAURA:  To pay our respects.
BUSH 43:  But it’s not Santa.
BUSH 41:  Jesus Christ.  Great, my son is President of the United States but he’s also a fucking retard.  I couldn’t have had a smart garbageman?  It’s not like people are going to forget about this in the future.  Is it possible for ME to change my name?
BUSH 43:  Since he’s dead, can I campaign to be the new Santa?

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription•

BUSH: …and that is why I constantly ask for guidance from the Lord and am grateful that He helps lead me down the path…
JOHN PAUL II: ALRIGHT…enough with the fucking God shit.  Blah, blah, blah…God wants us to invade Iraq…blah, blah, blah…can somebody get this asshole a glass of whiskey?
BUSH: Your Holiness…
JOHN PAUL II: Call me “Jack”, please.  Let’s ditch the formalities.
BUSH: Okay…ummm…”Jack”…
JOHN PAUL II: Actually, call me by my rap name.  We’re in my hizzouse, so it’s cool.
BUSH: Your “rap name”?
JOHN PAUL II: Word.  “JP Deuce”.
BUSH: Alright.  JP Deu…you know what…I actually don’t feel comfortable saying that.
JOHN PAUL II: Pussy.  What the fuck do you want anyway?  I’m really old and really tired.  I’ve been Pope since the late-70’s.  Do you know what that entails?
BUSH: No, actually, I haven’t got the slightest idea what the Pope does.
JOHN PAUL II: I travel, bless shit, pray about things.  Also, I get money and smack ho’s.  Every once in a while, I write a Papal Bull.  You don’t get to write Papal Bulls, do you?
BUSH: No, I don’t.
JOHN PAUL II: And if you think you speak to God, well Georgie, I’ve got the hotline.  He doesn’t even give me guidance.  We just talk shit and think about ways to persecute Jews and hold back black people.  Also, Muslims.
BUSH: Oh, I do that, too! 
JOHN PAUL II: Want a martini?
BUSH: No…I quit drinking.  The Lord guided me towards a life of…
JOHN PAUL II: Hold on, George.  God is speaking to me.  What’s that, Lord?  Oh, you think George W. Bush is a homo-lover who can’t handle his alcohol?
BUSH: What?  He didn’t say that!  Tell him I’m not a homo-lover!
JOHN PAUL II: Sorry, Dubya…he’s still talking.  Yes, Lord…I’ll let him know that he should wear a pink dress to the press conference if he doesn’t take a drink. 
BUSH: Fine.  I’ll have a martini if the Lord says so.
JOHN PAUL II: Okay.  When I make martinis, they are shaken, not stirred.  I have Parkinson’s Disease, so I basically just pour the ingredients into a glass and try to hold on to it.  They end up being shaken vigorously…like a crying Mexican baby.
BUSH: Thanks, JP Deuce.
JOHN PAUL II: What’s that, Lord?  You think George should give me a handjob?

•This is an Historically Accurate Transcription•

CHURCHILL: We’ve got to end this thing…it’s gone on too long.
FDR: I agree.  I’m exhausted.  Look at me, I look like I’m 125 years old.
STALIN: Twenty million of my people have been killed!
CHURCHILL: Yes, this war is terrible.
STALIN: War?  Oh, you guys were talking about the war?  I actually meant that I had twenty million of my people killed.  I was bragging, not complaining.
FDR: Twenty million?  What did they do?  Espionage?  Treason?
STALIN: They didn’t name all of their pets and crops after me, so they went bye-bye in a box.  Well, twenty million boxes.  Well, actually, just a bunch of mass graves.
CHURCHILL: That’s horrible.  How does one kill twenty million people?
STALIN: Well, you start off by finding forty million people who are REALLY supportive of your plans and then you give them guns and…
FDR: I believe that was a rhetorical question.
STALIN: I believe that I could win a foot race between you and I.
FDR: Oh yes…here we go again…let’s make fun of the crippled guy.  Easy target, right?
CHURCHILL: Don’t piss him off, Frank.  He’ll kill you as quickly as polio killed your legs.
FDR: I’m getting it from both sides now?  I saved your ass, Churchill.  Remember that whole Lend-Lease Act?  You better recognize.  Without me, you’d be speaking German already.
STALIN: (Mumbling) Or Russian.
CHURCHILL: You’re right, Franklin.  I should thank you now before you crumble into dust.  I know the Presidency ages its occupants, but you look terrible!  Do you drink nicotine milkshakes for breakfast?  Have they just gone ahead and started embalming you already?
FDR: I’ve been elected to four terms as President.  You wouldn’t know what it is like to have to save the world, Winston.  Last time I checked, you and your wussy empire were the save-ees not the save-ers.  And don’t even start criticizing how people look:  everytime I see you I think, “Wow, that is the tallest, oldest baby I have ever seen.”
STALIN: What about me?  What do you guys think when you see me?
CHURCHILL: Marshal Stalin, I think it’s safe to say that when we see you our first thought is, “This Russian guy is either going to kill us with a hammer or molest us with his mustache”.  You look like every family’s creepy uncle who drinks too much and then tickles the kids for an inappropriately long amount of time.
FDR: Although, I will say that I enjoyed your appearance on “To Catch A Predator”, Stalin.  Is Chris Hansen tall in real life?
STALIN: What do you carry in those bags under your eyes besides dashed dreams about competing in a triathlon?
CHURCHILL: Oooh…BURN.
FDR: Shut up, Churchill.  I may not be able to walk, but at least I don’t waddle.  You look like a penguin in chemotherapy.
CHURCHILL: Listen…let’s stop for a second.  We have to stay united.  We’ve got Hitler on the ropes and once we’re finished with that, we can turn our attention to Japan.
STALIN: No.  I’ll be occupying countries within my sphere of influence and setting up decades of potential problems.  Thanks for the invite, though.
FDR: Don’t worry about Japan, Winston.  Remember what I told you?
CHURCHILL: I’m constantly drunk.  I hardly remember to walk to the toilet before urinating.
FDR: I don’t want to say it right now.
CHURCHILL: Come on…
FDR: No…remember…the atomicay ombbay that I don’t want alinStay to know about?
CHURCHILL: Oh yeah…we definitely don’t want that crazy fucker getting his hands on  the bomb you developed which harnesses the energy which powers the universe to completely obliterate cities with one blast…
FDR: Dude…
STALIN: What?  Tell me everything!
CHURCHILL: (Leaving) Gotta go!
FDR: …
STALIN: …
FDR: He’s just fucking with you.  We don’t have one of those.