"So, you and the little woman got anything lined up for the big Anniversary?"
"And by 'little woman', you mean Rummie?"
"Yeah. You and Rumsfeld got any big plans?"
"Oh, well. We just kind of thought we'd do another terrorism scare, you know."
"That doesn't sound too ambitious."
"I know, I know. And the whole earthquake thingie kind of went over like a lead balloon. So, my heart's not really into it."
"Well, at least you could get Lieberman in on it."
"Yes, he's a faithful cur. He was almost Vice President, you know. LEGALLY, even."
"I know. And most people just think he's a shill for the insurance industry."
"So... you're heart's not in it?"
"No. I've been too consumed lately - you know - by the book, and Satan. I'm just getting too old for this. I'm thinking maybe the time has come to retire."
"Yes, there's a nice little cave in Afghanistan. Still, it has direct hotline communications to the CIA. And lots of porn. Plus K-Duck is there with all his condoms and Viagra."
"Well, then. I would think you'd want to go out with a bang. Why don't you invite Charlie Koch in to spice up the terrorism scare a little. You know, give it a little flare?"
"But his hands are full of Christie and his magic multi-coloured dream coat. Charlie is more into playing the long-game."
"Yeah, but what? You're just gonna scare New York and Washington, while the President is running around trying to promote his Jobs Bill? That isn't too inventive. And people are bound to conclude that Obama couldn't possibly be involved in the plot. So people will be thinking someone ELSE is running these bomb scares. Aren't you worried about that?"
"Maybe. But sometimes I think that's what I really want. The attention. The credit. I was president for eight years. Plus half of Obama's term. I'm kind of tired of not getting any of the credit."
"I guess I can understand that. Every great villain must eventually get exposed, or else he never rises to superstar status. It's like needing to return to the scene of the crime."
"The Grassy Knoll?"
"Nothing. But, you're right. I'm just pissed that it might make Obama look like the Superhero, when, hell. Come on. He's black."
"Well, at least you're going ahead with SOME kind of plan!"
"It isn't much. It's the best I can do. I really didn't put a lot of time into it. I might not have decided to do it if I wasn't fuming over the Obama Jobs Bill speech!"
"Everyone is pissed about that. All of Congress! Did you know that Reid forced them to attend, otherwise they wouldn't be able to vote on another bill later - one they actually WANTED?"
"Oh yeah. Like denying Obama the right to speak during the GOP debates - like that deserved that kind of retaliation. The nerve."
"And that's why half of the Republicans weren't wearing any flag lapel-pins."
"I think that's what pissed them off the most. So, anyway, they all urged me to come up with some scare. But, once again, Obama was out of town. So people aren't sure who I'm trying to freak out, other than the public, or course."
"That's all right, Dick. You're doing your best, and that's all that counts, after all the money. And the thrill of torturing things to death. And having sex with gay cadavers. And stealing body parts from graves for that little project of yours, although I'm not so sure Michael Jackson's nose is such a great choice."
"And besides, Washington will all be under water after the aliens invade."
"I guess. Kind of makes you wonder, what's really important in this world."
"Oh, come on, Dick! The Gulf Oil Disaster was important! And after you blame this terrorism scare on Pakistan, we get to take over Pakistan and all that oil and drugs and minerals and cash... Think of all the cash, Dick!"
"Cash is important. Cash is very important. My face. My face on the cash. That is important."
"Plus you're making money for the TSA!"
"I wish those scanners had been my idea!"
"And don't forget China. You own China, remember."
"Chinks don't know how to play frikin Schnooker."
"Eh. Opium, Dick. Mercury poisoning scattered over Portland. Come one - these things are worth living for."
"I'm getting too elderly. All I really want to do these days is walk over to Bobby, Junior's, house dressed like a Terror Bunny, and wave a Billy club at his terrified kids."
"Oh, you're just a big softy."
"No. I think I'm a pedophile. I'm just bad at expressing my true feelings."
"What about YOUR kids?"
"You mean the lesbian?"
"So was Nixon."
"Ha ha, Nixon!"
"Tricky Dick. I was a simpleton back then. No one even knows that the only reason I hatted him was because of his name. It was the battle of the Dicks."
"Oh, that's how we all get our start. The name game. You know... Dick Armey. Charlie Koch. Billy Bob Penis. We just want revenge for people making fun of our names."
"No. I LIKE my name. I just want to kill everyone else who has it."
"But MY name is Dick!"
"Thank you for coming. This has been a recording. Please advise where we should scatter your ashes. Goodbye."
"Ha ha ha. You're a gas! You need to go on Jon Stewart's show, ha ha... Dick? Dick!?!"
[INTERRUPTED BY THE INTERCOM]
"Mister Cheney. You have a call from Bin Laden. He wants to congratulate you for your successes in Wisconsin. He keeps referring to you as "Scott" for some reason..."
"I'll take it..."