As of now, I am in control here, in the White House

Obama’s Worst Nightmare


“Barack, what’s wrong?”


“Barry, wake up, you’re having a bad dream. Wake up!”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhh! Ahhhh!”

“Barack, wake up!”

“Michelle? Oh my goodness. I had a terrible dream.”

“Was it the one about Sarah Palin being made the White House pastry chef?”

“No, no, worse.”

“Tell me!”

“Well, it’s the morning, and we’ve just woken up, and we’re still in our pajamas. And I go to start my shave, turn on the faucet, and black oil comes out!”

“Oh no!”

“And then I try the shower, and it’s the same thing! So I call BP to find out what to do, and they say. ‘Try the shower cap.’ And I’m like, ‘The shower cap? Michelle’s shower cap? That’s not going to work!’ and they say, ‘Damned if we know what to do!’

“So I walk out to go downstairs and have breakfast, and as I pass by the Lincoln Bedroom I notice Hugo Chavez, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and Mullah Omar are all sleeping together on the bed. So I’m like, ‘Dudes, wake up, you’ve got to get out of here. Are you kidding me? This is the White House!’

“The three of them are in bed together!”

“Yes, they’re in bed together. And they slowly start waking up and look at me and Chavez says, ‘We’re not leaving! And what’s for breakfast? I could eat a horse!’ And Ahmadinejad asks if he can have his eggs over-easy, and Mullah Omar wants me to slaughter a lamb! And I say, ‘Listen, you guys have to leave, like NOW!’ And they answer that they are staying for the rest of the summer. So I plead with them, ‘Look, let’s negotiate, let’s talk as reasonable people.’ And they just laugh and say, ‘Go get us breakfast!'”

“They just laughed at you?”

“They just laughed at me. So I head downstairs to make them breakfast and sitting at the dining table are Bill and Hillary”

“Bill and Hillary?”

“Bill and Hillary. And they’re eating scones with honey and Bill is pouring Hillary some coffee. And they look at me and they’re all cheerful and everything and they’re like ‘Good morning Barack.’

“So I say, ‘Good morning,’ and it’s at that point that I realize they aren’t wearing any pants!”

“They aren’t wearing any pants?”

“They aren’t wearing any pants. Bill has a shirt, tie and suit jacket on but he’s only wearing underwear, and Hillary has a white shirt and bright green jacket and she’s in her underwear too. So I’m like, ‘Hey you two, put some clothes on!’ And they just start laughing at me.”

“They just start laughing at you?”

“The just start laughing at me. And Hillary says, ‘Just think of this as one of my pantsuits, but without the pants! And then Bill says, ‘Barack, I hardly ever wore pants when I was in the White House!’ And they both start giggling.

“And they I turn around and the butler is headed to the elevator with a large cart of food, and I say, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ And he says, ‘Chavez, Ahmadinejad, Mullah Omar, have ordered room service.’ And I’m like, ‘What? Room service?’ And the butler just ignores me and wheels the cart onto the elevator.”

“He just ignored you?”

“He just ignored me.”

“So Bill and Hillary just keep eating breakfast like I’m not even there. And I head down the hall and I notice there’s something going on in the Blue Room. So I peak in and there are 14 unshowered, unemployed people just hanging out. And each one of them has one of my golf clubs. Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

“Barack, take it easy.”

“I’m sorry. And then they start walking toward me and getting closer and closer with the clubs raised like they’re going to start whacking me. And meanwhile I left the shower on and the drain is clogged and oil is dripping through the ceiling. And someone is buzzing on the intercom complaining that his eggs are over-medium instead of over-easy. And Bill and Hillary are just standing in the doorway giggling and nibbling their scones. And the unshowered, unemployed people are getting closer, and closer, and closer.

“And one of them points to a picture on the all just behind me, right above my head. And I turn around, and it’s a painting of something called ‘The Obama Inn.’ And he says, ‘Look, it’s your inn over your head.”

“Your Inn over your head?”

“Yes, that’s right. And then I started screaming.”

“That’s when you woke up?

“That’s when I woke up.”

“Wow. What a dream. I wonder what it means, Barack.”

6 Responses to Obama’s Worst Nightmare

  1. What a nightmare, the zombie White House but I’d change the ending after the Weekly Standard article I referred to: I’m shrinking…I’m shrinking and there remains nothing but a pool of oil on the floor. Now that’s an ending.