That's right, Dubya's back. Looks like he got a mandate from the creator (or maybe I just wanted to bring him back so we could all laugh at his simulated life), and he's all ready to go!
Just look at him! He's all presidential lookin', dressed in them fancy clothes!
Meet the new, improved, Sim George Dubya Bush!
George very quickly obtained a job in the business field as a Gofer, just like before. On his first day of work he made a new friend!
Dick Cheney! Oh Dubya was pleased, he even brought his new friend home with him. Dick looks less than pleased over the shoddy ride, but a friend is a friend, and this new upstart Gofer could prove useful.
Look closely at what George is holding...
George immediately found that he could make a paper airplane out of discarded newspapers, and began reliving his military career.
"NYEEEEERRRRR!! *ackackackack* I shot you down! You're dead now, you dirty arabiac terrist!!"
"George? What are you doing?"
"!!! What? Oh--Oh HI Osama! Nothing, nothing much, how have you been?"
"Look, 'sama, buddy, I'll give you lots of money to pretend you didn't just see me doing what you thought I was doing with that paper airplane..."
I think they're exchanging makeup tips here...not sure though.
Osama took off for the warm indoors of Dubya's house, and just as George himself was fixing to go in and join his arch nemesis, who should stop by but SimSenator Kerry!
George, knowing that the business career requires many friends, decided to play it cool and be a pal to his old
And Cheney?
Cheney just looked away.
Even Condi showed up. She and George talked about George's favorite thing: Playtime!
The party soon moved indoors.
George and Osama found that they had a common thread: They were both bestest friends with Condi!
"Oh man, Condi is TEH HAWT!"
George finally cornered Osama to press the peace issue.
Osama, having an image to maintain, not so subtly informed Dubya that there would be no peace.
George's reply?
"Talk to the hand, biatch!"
"Oh yeah, Dumbya? Well you smell like a hog rendering plant! I'm leaving!"
Crushed, George ran after his friend Osama, only to be stopped by Senator Kerry.
"God, he's long winded. Doesn't he ever shut up? Is this what they call a
John went on and on about how he was a peaceful man, while George pretended to listen.
In reality, he was thinking about cookies.
"Oh...my...sweet...Jesus...he's been talking for HOURS! It's DARK! I--oh, oh hell, he's looking at me like I'm supposed to respond to something. What was he talking about again? Er--oh--oh, right, right John, I'm a peaceful man too. I want peace above all else."
"But seriously John, some freedom haters don't want peace. They want war, and I'm just the guy to lead them because I've been to war before."
"Really George? I could have sworn that you were AWOL and signed papers stating that you didn't want to serve overseas. Or, did you mean that you've started a war before?"
"Playing Risk in the war room counts Joh--OW!!"
"Liars make baby Jesus cry George, just like a poke in the eye."
*sniffle* "That was mean John! Anyway, I don't have to listen to you, you're just a pitiful senator and I'M the Prez!"
"Yes, yes, I know I'm 'just a senator', but remember my little chickenhawk, your legislation has to go through MY senate before it becomes law. You'd best be nice if you want to get anything done in the next four years, boy."
After rolling his eyes soundly at the President, John took off for home.
George wandered back into the house to have a chat with Dick, who was currently monopolizing the only comfortable chair in the house.
"Dick," whined George, "That John Kerry said mean things about meeee! Can we declare war on him? Pleeeeease?"
"There there, tiger," soothed Mr. Cheney, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that bad man. He's gone now. And besides, he's just a lowly senator, not a big strong president like you."
"Hey, you're right! Thanks Dick, you're a real pal!"
"I know, I know, now fix me dinner like a good little bitch."
"I'm afraid I don't know how to cook Dick, but here, watch me do this impression of drinking a glass of water!"
Annoyed, the VP stood to leave; this upset Dubya.
"You can't leave me alone! I can't cope alone! At least send Karl Rove over so someone can tell me what to do!"
"George, you're a grown man and are perfectly capable of taking care of yourse--"
"OH MY DEAR SWEET BLOOD OF BABY JESUS, DICK, WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS IS THAT?!?!"
Dubya tried to jump into Cheney's arms for comfort, but the elder VP would have none of it.
*facepalm* "It's just the window, George. I'm going home. You'll be fine."
But George was not fine.
The phone rang most ominously as soon as Cheney had left.
"I know what you did George..." came a very familiar Saddam Hussein-esque voice.
"NO! NO! It CAN'T BE! You're in JAIL!!!"
"I live just down the street George, my friend Osama bin Laden told me where you live. I--"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
"Jesus Q. Allah George, take a valium, I'm just fuckin' with ya. How've you been? Last I heard you were on an urn on Kerry's coffee table!"
"Oh..that..misunderstanding. So...I gotta go Saddam, I'll talk to you later. You prick."
"What was tha--*click*"
With that, George trudged up to bed and had many a sweet dream about his best buddy Dick Cheney.
The next day was no better for our President, for during the night, a hooligan tipped over his trash can and by morning there were roaches everywhere!
George could not afford an exterminator after his bills, so he did what anyone else would do: Grabbed a can of raid and played "Gas the heathens!!"
Bugs dead and gone, George walked back inside for a little gaming.
However, the experience with the insect genocide had left a scar on his little soul.
Whether he was crying because of the war crimes he'd committed or simply because he was afraid of roaches I do not know.
Having had a good cry, George was then ready to spend the rest of the day playing games.
He's so 1337!
I'm leaving now...