Thursday, November 04, 2004
"Honey," Laura says, gently shaking her husband awake, "Sun Myung Moon is on the line. He's got some good news."
"Stay the course," George mumbles.
"Wake up, honey," Laura says. "You need to talk to him."
"Do what now?" George says, his eyes crossing and uncrossing as his usual waking bemused and bewildered expression settles in around his punch-me mouth.
"You're President," Laura says. "Sun Myung Moon threw Abraham Lincoln out of the White House. "You've got your old job back."
"I, uh," George says, frowning, "I got some brush to clear first. Got some hard work to do around the ranch. You tell him that."
"The brush can wait, George," Laura says. "This is a call direct from God."
George jumps out of bed in a panic. "God's here?"
"No, honey," Laura soothes him, "He's on the phone. Here," she says, handing him the cell phone.
"Uh, God?" George says.
On the other end of the line, Sun Myung Moon smiles.