Dear Fellow Republicans-in-Christ:

I just returned from Camp David, where the Bush family was grappling with the unseemly, public drinking problems of the President's daughters, Jenna and Barbara. Quite naturally, I was called to provide spiritual solace, but the Holy Spirit was only one of many spirits that filled our teary-eyed afternoon. With its trademark crusty Yankee fortitude, the Bush family came together for a healing afternoon of fiery reproach and cold cocktails. I was, of course, sworn to absolute secrecy about our afternoon. I assume, had they known about it, they would have also asked me to keep the tape recording I made of the gathering confidential, too. It is with this in mind that I ask all of you to be careful in disseminating this completely accurate transcription, as it contains rather sensitive information. I trust that you will, as have I, only make it available out of Christian concern for those frailer than yourself – and not out of any tawdry impulse to gossip.

-- Betty

OK, like, I just want to say, you know, how –
Dadgummit, Janna, I told you. We ain't starting this heart-to-ear stuff until 10:30.
(SPRAYING ENDUST® ON LINEN LAMPSHADE) Now, George –
Woman! I am the most powerfulest man in the Fried World and I said that this "Familiar Summit" don't get going 'till 10:30. Sharp.
But Mr. President –
Jeannette, I just told you! WHOA! WHOA! Yes! I am the man! I am the man! WHOA-EEE! Don't nobody say I ain't got what it takes to run the world. Look at this!
George, put that Game Boy down.
(LOOKING AT WATCH) OK, five, four, three, two, ONE! Blast-off! It's 10:30. We can start this little family get-together stuff.
OK, girls, your father wants a word with you. Jenna, you sit over there. And – ah – um -- you in the chartreusey-like tank toppy thing, sit on the other side of your sister.
This isn't chartreuse.
It certainly looks red.
Laura, chartreuse is green, dear. Though not quite that bilious shade you're wearing.
Don’t you think Scaasi will be divine Betty? He did all of George's mother's clothes when they were in the White House.
Well, at least we know he's used to overcoming large obstacles –
Watch it, Betty!
Enough of this girly talk.
I don't mind girly talk.
What a shocker! Get a load of Mr. Cheerleader everyone!
Don't start in on that again, Bar.
Well, I have got me a girl I need to talk to right now.
Mr. President, there are two of us.
Jenna, make room for – um – ur – the one not wearing chartreuse.
Barbara.
I knew that. Don't smart-mouth me, Miss Harvard.
Yale.
If you say so. Anyway, sit closer, so your father remembers you're here.
I guess you know what I want to talk about. Did you see that little 7-year-old catch that fly ball at t-ball? Dang it! Well I'll be dipped in hawg shi –
George! Get to the point.
You mean about these two drunks?
Ain't neither!
Yartoo!
Ain't neither!
Yartoo!
Ain't neither!
Yartoo!
Stop it you two!
I'm the most influenced man in the whole dang world. I don't take sass. In all my born days, I ain't never --
Knock of that stupid barnyard Texas-talk, George. There's no press in here. We're rich. Talk like it for God's sake.
Sorry, Mommy.
Yes, I think it safe to say that whichever Pope originated the expression "money talks" didn't have something out of Steinbeck in mind. Anyway, let's shift the emphasis here a bit. Jenna and Barbara –
What?
I meant the one who doesn't look like a gargoyle, dear. Now, girls, there is nothing particularly wrong with drinking. After all, as True Christians we have told our nation's children to ask themselves "What would Jesus do?" before making any decision. And if you will recall, Jesus is someone who squandered His very first miracle on getting liquor for his boozehound of a mother --
Jenna, freshen this, sweetie. Not so much icey-icey.
As I was saying, Jesus appeared to be at the beck and call of a mother who had an appalling habit of braying for free Chablis the second the bar ran dry –
And don't put too much coconut milk in it. No point it filling a tumbler with a mixer – the ice melts anyway. Ice: Nature's time-released little mixer!
Oh, put a sock in it, Laura. Betty's talking.
And at about $3,000 a sentence.
If you wanted spiritual advice on the cheap, you should have called Jesse Jackson. You could have had him for cab fare. [FLIPPING OPEN HER CELL PHONE] Or maybe you'd like Al Sharpton.
He's in jail. Fasting.
Oh, dear. That could take years. Anyway, what I was telling these dear, fragile Christian girls is that since Jesus was wont to turn tap water into an alcoholic beverage, one should never ask, "What would Jesus do?" within 10 feet of a liquor bottle without a designated atheist.
That's why we gave them the Secret Service.
Would that the girls could keep their bar service secret.
Amen!
Let us open our bibles.
I seem to have misplaced mine. Oh, here it is.
Laura, that is the Lord's Word. Not a coaster. Turn to Matthew, chapter 11. George, I think Matthew is designated with a purple walrus in your book.
Matthew. Wasn't that the guy there who was that tax collector fellow?
A "tax and spend" Democrat! We ought to be reading a gospel by a guy who gave money away!
That would be Jesus, dear.
Darn straight. A Republican.
But didn't that Jesus guy want us to give our money away?
Smacks of socialism, if you ask me! He better not sing that tune in Kennebunkport.
How many times do I have to tell you? With skilled biblical interpretation, you can effortlessly follow even the more inconvenient passages. When Jesus said "give away everything you have to the poor," he was talking to people who owned nothing. So, in other words, He was telling us to give nothing to the poor.
Sounds pretty Republican to me!
Exactly. Anyway, I'd like to read from Matthew 11:19. The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans –
Betty, my Bible says "friend of Republicans."
You must have Friend-Of-Our-Lord Pat Robertson's bible, dear. He's been looking for it.
What is a windbibber? Someone who farts? (GIGGLES)
A winebibber. A drunkard. Surely, that word isn't foreign to you, dear. Anyway, do you see, girls what our Lord's inerrant Word is saying?
That, like, Jesus was a partier?
Cool. Jesus was a drunk, too.
Well, not exactly --
See how Christ-like your father has been all these years? You didn't grow up with a lot of mushy talk and touching, but we did give you girls Christian values.
Jenna, stop chewing your hair.
Barbara, fix Grandma another Bloody M. And not so much celery salt in it this time. You know I'm on a low-sodium health diet. Are you trying to kill me?
Well, girls, you know we love you –
What your grandfather is trying to say is, we are furious with you two. We've been very lenient. Even though your father talks like his job requires him to go where the vegetables are ripe, thanks to our family name, he has millions squirreled away for you girls. Your parents have given you everything --
Except our time. Parents are entitled to something they can call their own. I'm a teacher --
Laura, I'll handle this. Like I said, you've been given everything. And we only asked for one thing in return!
Not to be drunks like you all?
No! Not to get caught, you idiot!
Well, like, I think it is so totally unfair. I didn't know it was, like, illegal to get a fu –, uh, a drink.
Jenna, you were in court for underage drinking just two weeks before!
That was for beer! I wasn't ordering a beer at Chuy's. Hello? It was a Margarita!
See? They tricked her! She was set up! It's the liberal media. They never reported all the times Chelsea Clinton got arrested!
Chelsea never was arrested.
Well, hell's bells, I don't even report the times I get arrested, I don't know why them liberal reporters got to stick their noses in private family matters.
George, they got citations. It's a matter of public record.
Well, it never would have been public if they had just listened to me! Honestly, girls. I've told you a million times. "Beer after liquor, never sicker – booze before press, what a mess!"
We have tried hard to set a good example. I mean, every day your mother and I come up with a new way to keep our natural love of refreshments away from the prying eyes of the liberal media.
Well, I'm just real concerned about this. After all, Jenna got arrested several years back for an alcohol related offense. We've got that "three strikes and you're out" rule.
Don't you worry about that, Janet! When I'm made Baseball Commissioner, I'll get rid of that rule for you!
Jenna's sister!
Me?
No. I'm sorry. The other one.
Me?
Yes, you. What did you put in Mommy's drinkie-winkie?
You asked for coconut milk –
Not this much. It tastes like suntan lotion. There's no vodka in here. That's the problem! That's always the problem when one of you little hellions mixes mother a little refreshment!
You told her you use three-fingers.
Don't sass me. Both of you have very, very small fingers – and you keep them together! Don't think I don't watch.
Jenna, give me my driver's license back.
I told you it wouldn't work.
You were supposed to put your thumb over my face – not yours.
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