Birds chirp outside the window of the Oval Office as President Clinton sits at his desk, sharpening pencils.
PRESIDENT CLINTON	I love this job. Al Gore enters, bending over with the weight of a stack of magazines.
AL GORE	Here are the latest issues of your subscriptions, Sir. He drops the magazines on the President’s desk.
CLINTON	Careful! That’s valuable reading material. (Flipping through the stack) Looks like you’ve done good, boy. Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, Swank, Smut, High Society, Big Titties, Big Boobs, Big Cunts, Big Beavers, Big Buns, Sticky Cigars, Naughty Fingers...wait, where’s my copy of Better Homes and Gardens?
GORE	I didn’t know you read that.
CLINTON	Ahem...actually, it’s for Hillary...you should’ve seen last month’s features about how to make elegant napkin rings out of toiletpaper tubes-- Sparks fly from Gore’s collar, and he bleeps.
GORE	(mechanically) White House toiletpaper....
CLINTON	...And the proper parameters of English gardens...you should’ve seen them...fascinating--ahem, ‘cause I didn’t see ‘em. (Glancing again at the magazines) Yee-haw! Look at the cover of Big Titties! (He grabs Gore and ties him to the desk.) Let me show you how to run this office. (Straddling Gore) It’s for your own good, boy.
GORE	(mechanically) Must remember Better Homes and Gardens next time. Clinton takes out a whip and begins to use it on Gore.
CLINTON	Who’s your Daddy?
GORE	(mechanically) Janet Reno.
CLINTON	I did not ask, “Who’s your Mama?” I asked, “Who’s your Daddy?”
GORE	(mechanically) Joe Lieberman.
CLINTON	I did not ask, “Who’s your boyfriend?” I asked, “Who’s your Daddy?”
GORE	(mechanically) Bill Clinton.
CLINTON	Who’s your Daddy?
GORE	(mechanically) You, Mr. President.
CLINTON	That is correct. Now, who do you love?
GORE	(mechanically) Tipper Gore.
CLINTON	I said, “Who do you love?”
GORE	(mechanically) Bill Clinton. Joe Lieberman pops in to say “hi”.
JOE LIEBERMAN	Hi, fellows. (Observing the scene) Oops, guess I came by at a bad time...I’ll be going now. (He leaves and shuts the door.)
CLINTON	Heard through the door from inside the room: What type of bill never gets vetoed?
GORE	(mechanically) Little Bill.
CLINTON	That is also correct. Now, who’s your Daddy?
GORE	(mechanically) Bill Clinton.
LIEBERMAN	(outside the door; aside) No wonder our Party’s going down the crapper. He meets a White House Aide in the hall and strikes up a conversation with her.
AIDE	Really? I prefer boxers. (They continue to converse at length.) Well, Senator, I can see now the many advantages of briefs. But if you’ll excuse me, I have to speak with the President now.
LIEBERMAN	Mind if I tag along?
AIDE	Uh, Senator, aren’t you supposed to be in Congress right now?
LIEBERMAN	Pshaw...it’s just another one of those highway safety bills...not all that important.
AIDE	Well, okay, I guess.... (She enters the Oval Office. Jaded, she shows no response to or interest in the goings-on within. Lieberman follows her inside.) Mr. President, it’s time to go to your summit meeting.
CLINTON	A meeting? I experimented, but I never became addicted.
AIDE	For world peace, Sir.
CLINTON	Oh, yeah. (After a pause) Dammit, you know they don’t actually want peace. All them Arabs and Jews are after is the free buffet.
LIEBERMAN	Sir?
CLINTON	Aww, don’t worry; I was talkin’ about the evil Jews. You’re one of the good Jews.
LIEBERMAN	I’ll forget you said that, Sir.
CLINTON	Yeah, that’s a good idea! (He unties Gore and hands him the whip.) Here, I’ll let you practice. Clinton and the Aide exit, closing the door behind them. Gore gets up; Lieberman seats himself and makes himself at home. Gore ties Lieberman by the legs and waist to the chair.
LIEBERMAN	Al, I’m not in the mood, and if I were, it’d be my wife, not you.
GORE	(mechanically) You know you want it.
LIEBERMAN	No!
GORE	(mechanically) No means yes; yes means no.
LIEBERMAN	Umm...yes!
GORE	(mecahnically) Yes means yes. After eight years, you’ll learn to love it. Gore begins to whip Lieberman as Clinton did to him. Lieberman tries in vain to deflect the lashes.
LIEBERMAN	What on earth, Al?
GORE	(mechanically) Who’s your Daddy?
LIEBERMAN	Not you, you big hairy queer!
GORE	(mecahnically) Who’s your Daddy?
LIEBERMAN	Al, what is this? Gore puts down the whip, hanging his head.
GORE	(mechanically) Must practice for presidency. Just then, Bush and Cheney enter the Oval Office, suitcases in tow, leaving the door open.
BUSH	So...this is the Opal Office.
CHENEY	(sighing in disgust) It’s the Oval Office, Sir. (Bush looks confused. Cheney waves a hand in the air.) Forget it. I guess it’s not that important.
BUSH	This place is the pits.
CHENEY	Yes, I suppose the decor is a bit depressing.
BUSH	No wonder my dad started World War II.
CHENEY	(pulling Bush aside) Your father initiated the Persian Gulf War while in office--not World War II.
BUSH	Oh.
CHENEY	I see you’ll need help with foreign policy matters.
BUSH	Yeah, foreign policy does matter. (Raising his fist) Free Tibet! (Opening a suitcase, he takes out a couple of blacklight posters.) Time to redecorate. Cheney shakes his head as Bush moves the President’s chair about the room to hang up the posters.
LIEBERMAN	What are you doing here? You lost.
GORE	(mechanically) Must practice for presidency.
CHENEY	The presidency? You lost!
LIEBERMAN	No, you lost!
CHENEY	No, you lost!
LIEBERMAN	Did not!
CHENEY	Did too!
LIEBERMAN	(sticking his tongue out) Did not!
CHENEY	(putting the fart sign to his forehead) Loser!
LIEBERMAN	Am not!
CHENEY	Are too!
BUSH	(putting the fart sign to his forehead) Damn! What died in here?
LIEBERMAN	Double am not!
CHENEY	Are too times infinity!
GORE	(putting the fart sign to his forehead; mechanically) System detects foreign odor, possibly destructive.
LIEBERMAN	(noticing the fart signs) What is this, some sort of Republican voodoo ritual? (To Gore) Not you, too!
BUSH	We do this all the time down South!
LIEBERMAN	Well, then...(putting up the fart sign) let me not offend.
CHENEY	Too late, Lieberman. You already have.
BUSH	Ha, ha! Ol’ Joe ripped a big one.
LIEBERMAN	(removing the fart sign) Oh...well, in that case, pardon me. Everyone puts down their fart signs.
GORE	(to Cheney; mechanically) We won, you lost.
BUSH	(aside; to Cheney) Shit, Cheney! Did we really lose? Damn! I guess that means I have to return this lava lamp to the White House gift shop. Johnny Rotten appears from beneath the desk.
JOHNNY ROTTEN	Will you shut up? I’m trying to get a blow job here!
LIEBERMAN	Johnny Rotten, what are you doing here?
ROTTEN	Well, to make a long story short, I was on the official tour, and I got lost. I met this intern who said she’d show me the way, and did she.
“INTERN”	(from beneath the desk) Oh, Johnny! I want your sex pistol!
CHENEY	That sounds like a tape recording.
ROTTEN	Well, it’s not!
“INTERN” (RECORDING)	Johnny, Johnny! Give it to me, you horny bastard! (The tape reverts to another recording.) When you wake up in the morning, make it a priority to go straight to the mirror and repeat the following phrase five times: “I am an attractive and worthwhile person. People care about me because I contribute to humanity in a positive manner--”
ROTTEN	(fumbling under the desk with his hand) Could we save the pillow talk for later, dear?
RECORDING	You are a magnificent creation, deserving of respect and praise. Do not allow others to reinforce your negative self-image-- Cheney runs to the desk and finds the tape recorder beneath it.
CHENEY	Aha! He stops the recorder.
LIEBERMAN	(shaking his head) Using the Oval Office to jerk off.
ROTTEN	(hanging his head) I wasn’t wankin’ off; I was listening to a motivational tape. It was the only place I could find any privacy.
BUSH	Johnny, aren’t you a homosexual?
ROTTEN	What?
CHENEY	The tabloids say you were caught in a London hotel room engaging in homosexual acts.
ROTTEN	Well, what can I say? It was back when I was young and didn’t know any better.
LIEBERMAN	The papers say it happened yesterday.
ROTTEN	I’ve matured a lot since then!
BUSH	Say, Johnny...did we win or lose?
ROTTEN	(exiting the Oval Office) You’re all bloody losers, as far as I’m concerned! (Pausing) Do any o’ you know where I can find a fish ‘n’ chips around here? All of them stare blankly for a moment.
CHENEY	(finally) The Elephant Cafe’ has some pretty nice lunch specials.
LIEBERMAN	Of course none of them are kosher...(under his breath) Republicans.
BUSH	Ham sammich...BBQ pork-ribs! Only $499 at the Elephant Cafe’. Pretty damned cheap, if you ask me! (Lieberman shakes his head repeatedly.)
CHENEY	Sir, the sign said “$4.99”, not “$499”.
BUSH	You mean I paid ‘em too much? Cheney smacks his forehead.
ROTTEN	Whatever. He exits. Cheney takes a set of flash cards out of his suitcase.
CHENEY	(to Bush) Since you’re gonna be President, we’ll need to review. (Taking out the first card) This is the--blank--House.
BUSH	(thinking for a moment) The White House! I know that ‘cause it ain’t blue!
CHENEY	(tossing Bush a brownie) Very good, Sir! Here’s your reward.
BUSH	A brownie! Did you make ‘em from Clinton’s special recipe?
CHENEY	(looking downward) Yes, Sir. (He flashes another card.) What’s this building?
BUSH	The Octagon!
CHENEY	(sighing) So close, yet so far away. It’s the Pentagon.
BUSH	I got the “agon” part right! Can I have half a snack?
CHENEY	You know the agreement, Sir. I’m sorry.
BUSH	Is that negotiable?
CHENEY	No!
BUSH	Aww! Fine, be that way.
CHENEY	(flashing another card) Which state is this?
BUSH	Aww...Mexico.
CHENEY	Mexico isn’t a state, Sir. This is Texas.
BUSH	Close enough. I hear there’s truckloads o’ Mexicans comin’ into Texas. Someone should stop ‘em!
CHENEY	You’re the governor of Texas.
BUSH	Oh...I guess I should stop ‘em. Texas is for Texicans, not Mexicans! Cheney puts away the flash cards.
CHENEY	You’re hopeless.
BUSH	That’s a good thing, right?
CHENEY	I guess so.
BUSH	(to Lieberman) You hear that--I’m hopeless!
LIEBERMAN	We know.
CHENEY	Okay, Sir, pop quiz: Who was the first President of the United States? I’ll give you a clue...this town was named after him.
BUSH	Jefferson! Jefferson, Missouri--that’s right next to Branson, right?
CHENEY	(wearily) Next question: What war came after World War I?
BUSH	The Persian Gulf War that my dad started!
CHENEY	You’re getting confused again.
LIEBERMAN	(to Gore) Can I go to church with you on Sunday?
CHENEY	What the hell?!
LIEBERMAN	(hanging his head) I got excommunicated.
GORE	(mechanically) Does not compute. (After a pause; with beeping sounds) Must ask Pastor Gates if you are allowed to accompany us for weekly update.
BUSH	You can come to my church, Joe!
CHENEY	Your church, Sir?
BUSH	Yeah, I joined this church where everybody wears these special white robes and special white hoods to show how everybody’s equal.
CHENEY	(smacking his forehead) Dumbass.
BUSH	I don’t think the guy who made the cross at the front o’ the church is a very talented artist...you see, it’s a little bent....
LIEBERMAN	(shaking his head) Idiot. That’s not a cross, that’s a swastika.
BUSH	Oh...is that a special Swedish kinda cross?
LIEBERMAN	No, it’s a symbol of racism.
BUSH	Racism? No, these folks ain’t racist...they’re always talking about Jesus, an’ I know...(singing) “Jesus loves me, this I know....” (After a pause; no longer singing) I hear them talkin’ about Jews a lot, too, so I’m sure you’d be welcome...that is, if you’re a convertible kind o’ guy. “Convertable”, get it? Lieberman punches Gore. Gore snaps out of his robotic phase.
GORE	(no longer mechanically) What was that for?
LIEBERMAN	Bush is a moron, but I can’t reach him from here. Gore examines Lieberman’s condition.
GORE	Oh gosh! Was he the one who tied you to this chair? I should’ve known he was capable of monstrous acts like this. (Cheney and Lieberman smack their foreheads in unison. Gore unties Lieberman. Lieberman adjusts himself to get comfortable.) (to Bush) You truly are a heinous human being.
BUSH	Dick! Gore called me an anus!
CHENEY	(sighing) Gore, go to your room.
GORE	I am in my room!
CHENEY	No, we won.
LIEBERMAN	Whichever of us won, Clinton’s still the President for now.
BUSH	Hmm...I wonder if I can bribe ‘im to leave now. Clinton suddenly appears on cue, doing the “Kramer” from Seinfeld.
CLINTON	(cheerfully) Somebody’s singin’ my tune.
BUSH	Yeah, I was wonderin’ if I could bribe you with my daddy’s money...well, it’s my money, too...but it’s my daddy’s money, I got it all from ‘is will.
CHENEY	(pulling Bush aside) Sir, your father isn’t dead.
BUSH	Then who died?
CHENEY	What do you mean, “who died”?
BUSH	Well, we went to a funeral last week.
CHENEY	That was a wedding, Sir.
BUSH	Then why was the guy wearin’ black?
CHENEY	That was the groom.
BUSH	Oh...that explains why he was up walkin’ around. (After a pause; to Clinton) So, can I bribe you with my daddy’s money to leave the Opal Office early?
CLINTON	Opal Office?...Uh, sure, I’ll make a deal. You pay me twenty million dollars, and I’ll leave the White House on January 20th.
BUSH	That soon! Great--you have a deal! (He takes out his chequebook and begins to write.) (to Clinton) How do you spell “twenty million”?
CLINTON	T-H-I-R-T-Y; space; M-I-L-L-I-O-N.
GORE	Now hold on, Quayle, that’s not right--
CLINTON	(putting a finger to his lips) Shh...they don’t call me “Slick Willy” for nothin’.
BUSH	(handing Clinton the cheque) I think I like you--wait, how do you spell “Clinton”?
CHENEY	(whispering in Bush’s ear) C-H-E-N-E-Y.
BUSH	(to Cheney) Wait, that’s your name!
CLINTON	See, son! Don’t ever let ‘em tell you you’re dumb. That’s C-L-I-N-T-O-N.
CHENEY	(sighing) Dumbass.
CLINTON	(taking the cheque) Yeah, Hillary, this ought to make up for that whole affair with...what’s her name?...never mind, the intern. (He starts to leave. He spots the plate of brownies.) Are these brownies made that “special way”?
CHENEY	(groaning) Yes, Mr. President.
CLINTON	(dumping the plate into his pocket) Hope you don’t mind.
BUSH	Help yourself! (To Cheney) What a nice guy!
CLINTON	(to himself) What a dumbass!
CHENEY	(to himself) Good thing those were the practice cheques.
CLINTON	(aloud; to everyone) You are sick individuals...I heard everything you said.
GORE	Huh?
CLINTON	Yeah, Nixon got this place rigged up pretty good. (Pointing beneath Lieberman’s chair) I even heard you rip that big one. Man, was that ever a dandy! Glad I wasn’t there. Almost as good as that one I let loose when Miss Lewinsky was goin’ down on me!...Wait, I didn’t say that.
GORE	The scandal’s over...everyone knows.
CLINTON	Well, then I could tell you boys some stories. Man, was that girl freaky! Johnny Rotten walks by the doorway, holding his tape recorder to his ear.
ROTTEN	(reciting) Yes, I am a beautiful individual.
LIEBERMAN	Why hasn’t he been thrown out of here yet?
CHENEY	Unfortunately, he’s considered a diplomat for the U.K.
RECORDING	You should do somehting special for yourself today.
ROTTEN	That’s a good idea! (We follow Rotten to the mall, where Christmas decorations are strewn about and holiday music plays.) Christmas! I almost forgot. I’d better remember the loved ones on my list. (He unfolds his list.) Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.... (He looks to the bottom of his five-page list.) Looks like Johnny Rotten’s been a very good boy this year. Well, I guess I have to get somehting for those bastard children of mine. (He takes out a twenty-page list.) Oh, bloody Hell, those idiots are gonna bankrupt me. (In the distance, he sees a dollar store.) Daddy’s gonna be generous this year. (He enters the store.) (to Clerk #1) I’ll take five crates of those twenty-five-cent coloring books. Ah, I’m feeling extra generous this year. (To Clerk #1) I want five rolls of those five-cent lollipops, too. I’m spending thirty cents on each o’ those little bastards, plus tax. They’d better appreciate it.
CLERK #1	Would you like a few rolls of our fifty-cent gift wrap, Sir?
ROTTEN	I’m not feeling that generous. Besides, their births were big enough surprises. (Rotten checks out and moves along through the mall. He sees a Hickory Farms store.) I suppose I should remember my Sex Pistols bandmates. (He enters the store.) (to Clerk #2) What’s your least expensive gift item?
CLERK #2	Well, we have mini blocks of Summer Sausage for fifty cents apiece.
ROTTEN	I’ll take three. (Hanging his head) Well, Sid’s dead, so I suppose I should leave his on his grave. (After a pause) Nah, I’ll eat it. (He buys the Summer Sausage and continues down the walkway. He sees a music store.) Ooh...a guitar--for me! (He buys it and continues on his way. He arrives at a health store.) Herbal Viagra? Well, I like to experiment...I’ll try anything once--for me! (He buys it and continues on his way. He arrives at a lingerie store.) Ladies panties...how sexy--for me! (He buys the panties and continues on his way. He purchases many items, saying For me! For me! For me! along the way. Finally, heavy-laden with bags and packages, he stops opposite of the mall entertainment court to catch his breath.) (panting) Yes, Johnny’s been a very good boy this year. (Looking across the court, he notices the Santa Claus display, children and parents crowded around it.) Santa, you fat-arsed elf molester, help me with these bags! That’s what you’re good for! (Parents gasp, dragging their children away from Santa.) I said “elf molester”, not “child molester”. Suddenly swarms of short, high-voiced elves scream, running out of the gingerbread house display.
ELF #1	We told you they’d find out!
ELF #2	You'll never get away with this! Just then, the elves change direction and start to beat up on Santa.
SANTA	Help...me....
ROTTEN	You’re no help. (He moves on, bowed down with his packages. He spots mall security riding in a golf cart with a light flashing on top. They enjoy coffee and doughnuts.) I’m commandeering your vehicle.
SECURITY OFFICER #1	This is for security only, Sir.
ROTTEN	Well, this is an emergency!
SECURITY OFFICER #2	What emergency, Sir?
ROTTEN	Look at all these fuckin’ bags, you bloody moron!
SECURITY OFFICER #1	I’m sorry, Sir. We can’t help you. Rotten drops the bags, all except for the new guitar strapped to his back.
ROTTEN	Well, since you’re not being cooperative, I guess I’ll have to take this by force. (He punches out Security Officer #1. Security Officer #2 reaches for his baton, but Rotten takes the guitar from off of his back and breaks it over the officer’s head.) Oh well, I was gonna smash it anyhow. (Loading his bags and getting behind the wheel, he takes off.) That’s how we take care of the bobbies back home. (Driving along, he approaches the food court with many people waiting in lines.) (hitting the center of the wheel) Where’s the bloody horn on this thing? (Shouting) Get outta my fuckin’ way!
	The End. Tune in next month for “Johnny Rotten’s Christmas Special”. There will be dancing, carolling, and general merriment aplenty--
ROTTEN	Fuck no there won’t!
	Or, at least, lots of entertainment. See ya next time!