Written by K.C. Bell
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Monday, 5 March 2012

image for Rush Limbaugh Republican Nominee For President

Since all Republicans appear to be beholden to radio talk show entertainer Rush Limbaugh, (particularly the four remaining candidates for the presidential nomination) Rush recognized a golden opportunity and decided to become the Republican Presidential nominee.

"Who else but the best?" he asked himself, bouncing around on his radio talk show chair, eating a plate of pancakes, mac and cheese and washing both down with a cherry flavored milkshake, balancing a cigar in the corner of his mouth.

Allegedly, this was met with silent groans from the party elders.

Rush ordered a second cherry flavored milkshake with a side order of Polish sausage, saying he was getting goosed up to the presidential thing.

Picking a cabinet would be like picking dishes from an all you can eat menu. Newt Gingrich would be his vice-president. Donald Trump his Secretary of State. Rudolph Giuliani his Secretary of Defense. So what if that makes it a collection of thirteen wives among the four. Newt can start a colony of ex-wives on the moon.

"Why didn't they give me any fried onions and red peppers with my Polish sausage?"

When party elders questioned Senate approval of his cabinet, Rush stormed, "What do you mean the Senate will never approve Trump and Giuliani in my cabinet? I'm Limbaugh and no one crosses Limbaugh, or else!"

Mitt Romney was outraged; soon conciliatory. He argued that he spent a lot of money on the race and he should be Rush's vice-president.

"No one can swallow you, butch. You're like flank steak cut on the grain: chew, chew, chew and nothing goes down. Besides, your pants are too tight."

Santorum was next. "Nah. You're an empty vest: lasagna with all the cheese and meatballs picked out. Just dried up cold pasta. Even Fido won't touch it. Where is my triple chocolate cake with the hot butterscotch sauce?"

The party elders raised their brow at the request. Why not add marshmallow cinnamon whipped cream, caramelized butter cheesecake and cherry ice cream on top, with a ribbed eye steak on the side and an order of French fries?

Arf, arf!

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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