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A Bedtime Prayer
Oh dear Lord, can you hear me tonight? As I kneel here beside my bed, will you listen to my words? Lord, I know you’re very busy. I know your calendar’s probably filled with all those miserable heathens who are sick and ailing and dropping like flies all over the world, filled with heathens who still don’t have jobs and who live in their cars or in spare bedrooms with relatives, filled with heathens who are suffering so, filled with the heathen parents of heathen sons and daughters fighting heathen wars overseas, filled with heathen drug addicts and heathen alcoholics, filled with, well, filled with heathen whatever. But can you spare me a few minutes? Oh, praise the Lord! Hallelujah! I knew you’d find the time for me. Have mercy on those fish-eyed fools! But listen, I promise not to take too much of your evening. Here’s exactly what I want from you, Lord. Can you bless us to continue our reign? On a stack of Bibles ten feet high, we’re just getting the hang of things around here. Woodrow and I are so used to being in the limelight now, having the press hang on our every word, having photographers take our pictures wherever we go. Oh, praise the Lord! And we’re so used to living in this great big beautiful house, with cooks and servants and personal assistants to tend to our every need. God have mercy! We’re so used to rubbing elbows with the world’s celebrities, to being on the covers of magazines, to being idolized by millions of wide-eyed followers. Woodrow and I have grown accustomed to this life, being carted around in limousines and Air Force One at the drop of a hat, to being watched over by all those handsome Secret Service agents wearing sunglasses and those cool earphones. To take all this away from us now would be so unfair. Don’t you think it’d be unfair? Think of the years we suffered, the years we put in pro bono saving the souls of all those heathen misfits who pinned their hopes on us. And think of all the things we have left to do. So many things! So many promises we made to our voters! So many suckas…err…citizens that need tending to! Oh, God have mercy on their miserable lives! Oh, God have mercy on them all! God, will you please send the GOP’s heathen campaign down to the flaming depths of heathen hell, for our work here is not finished. Not by any means. I need some more dresses. And more shoes. You can never have enough dresses or shoes. And I want a horse, just like Ann’s. I never got a horse, Lord. And I want a new set of China like Ronnie’s girl Nancy got. And I want another make-over! I want to look just like Halle Berry. Or maybe Rihanna! Don’t you think I could look like Rihanna, the way we both sort of squint our eyes when we look into the camera. Hallelujah, Lord! Let the world see the light! Let the light come pouring in! Let them all vote for Woodrow this coming November. Four more years of this dream-come-true, Lord. I’m sorry to be such a bother, but I really, really want to win again. Everything is depending on it. Amen.