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God
Laughs When You Die Sample
The Last American President by Michael Boatman
And With the same pluck she displayed during her wonderful acting career, the Vice President dragged herself across the room and tore the Dalai Lama’s face off. The fact that J.C. was over eighty years old didn’t slow her down. The fact that she was dead didn’t stop her from ripping that peace-loving pacifist a new asshole. Literally.
Oh well, good riddance to bad rubbish I say. The D.L. was the biggest pain in the ass to my administration ever: always going on about “peace” and “compassion” and “democracy” and blah blah blah blah blah.
Speaking of pains in the ass: I can’t believe what the female Vox did with the Monument after she’d pleasured herself. Christian decency forbids me to describe it, Dairy. Let’s just say that when we made partial-birth abortions in the United States punishable by death we should have included “Extra-dimensional Iterations of the United States” as well. As of this writing, there’s a smoking fifty foot long Vox fetus skewered atop the monument. It’s just hanging there squirming like a titanic black maggot.
Occasionally, the fetus extrudes its tentacles down to the ground to snatch up a mess of unwary soldiers and cram them into one of the terrible gaping maws that pucker what I’m taking to be its ass end. (I call it the ass-end because of the river of crap that comes pouring out of it every thirty seconds or so, enough to cover the monument with the foulest smelling matter I’ve seen since we started drilling the Labrea Tar Pits.)
Dr. Maisiella Fletchet, my Secretary of State, pulled her head out from under my desk and whipped a nine millimeter .357 Desert Eagle automatic out of the thigh holster she wore attached to her black leather corset.
As the dead Vice President sprang toward me, the Secretary of State opened up on her with that big black beautiful piece of hardware (the gun, not Maisy). What was left of the V.P. splattered like the Blue Ribbon Squealer at the NASCAR ANNUAL HOG-STOMP. (At which, incidentally, I had the great honor of throwing out last year’s Black Piglet.)