Got a call last night from the President. He doesn't sound good. C.D. he says, You gotta help me. His voice is a low, shallow croak.

Whoa, slow it down, Dubya, I say. What's the deal? You can talk to me, man. You gotta talk to me.

There's silence at the other end of the line. I hear sobbing. Jesus, it's fucking late. Two in the morning for me. What time is it for him? Five o'clock? Where the fuck is he? Fuck, he's in Washington, D.C.! Fuck, he's the President right now! What the fuck is going on? Dubya man. Calm down. Say something. Can you say something?

I did it again, C.D. I did it again.

Don't call me that George. Don't. Fucking. Call. Me. That. I don't fucking care if you are the fucking president, I will kick your fucking ass.

I gotcha man, I'm tripping, I'm lonely. I got this girl I got this guy, I didn't know it would come to this. I'm the fucking president! You know, it's so hard to go out by myself. I only get a few minutes and I gotta make it count. I come in here. I don't know. They can't see. I just wanted a little taste. Just a little. Don't you know what I'm saying?

I shake my head, as much to shake the grog of sleep away as to indicate no, I don't know what the fuck he's saying. Man, I don't know what the fuck you're saying. You gotta slow down. Are you on something.

MOTHER OF FUCK! President Bush yelled. I jerk the phone away from my ear. Fuck! I'm on something! I'm on something good! I'm on Jesus Christ! It’s the best shit ever. He changed me life! It's so beautiful, David. One little mother fucking mistake. One fucking thing. One fucking thing. Can you help me man, can you help me?

I'm confused. Help you what, man?

The bitch, the birch went and did. Why won't she get up. I won't stop sweating. I just can't stop sweating. WAKE THE FUCK UP! She isn't my daughter, Dave. I don't know who the fuck she is. Been lying to me all those fucking years. Not even twins. Shoulda fuckin known. Should fuckin. I thought she loved me. Daddy... [sobs]

Christ, George, I say. Are you back on the monkey? I'm sure she still loves you. (I don't know who she is.)

Uh, hold on a second, the President says. I hear Bush put the phone down. I wait. I listen. I hear papers shuffling. I hear voices. I hear the fate of the nation being decides by white men in blue suits and bright colored ties. Put it there, I hear. Iraq. Not there! Don't look there. Thanks. Sorry Mr. Pres- Just put it on the [garbled] desk. On the edge. On the fucking edge! Dave, I'm back.

Hi.

You there? Sorry. I'm sorry. Remember how we used to call Saddam Pinto?

I remember George. How could I forget Harvard?

I miss him.

He's cool, Dub. He understands.

We had good times, didn't we, Dave? Didn't we?

I sighed and looked at my clock. I had to be at work in three hours. I needed to sleep at least two of those. We did, George. We sure did.

I love you, President George W. Bush says to me.

I love you too, George.

Let's get together real soon.

Count on it. Goodbye.

I hang up the phone. What the hell is going on over there? Is he on the blow? Is there a dead girl? An unconscious one? Who is she? Why can't he stop sweating? The questions linger. They linger still. That crazy, mixed-up sonofabitch. He's the President of the United States.

Jesus.

Jesus Christ.