War, mmm-hmm

INT, WHITE HOUSE. PRESIDENTIAL CABINET gathered around conference table. They look at PRESIDENT BUSH (O.S.) with horror on their faces.

CONDI: But … sir. you can’t invade Iran. You can’t. We don’t have the troops. We don’t have the funding. You’ve got ten months in office. The numbers don’t add up.

PRESIDENT BUSH sits hunched with his jaw jutting out like “Sling Blade.” He’s actually holding a sling blade. Some folks call it a Kaiser blade.

PRESIDENT BUSH: Numbers. Mmmm, well sir, I reckon God hates numbers. That there feller in the Bible counted up the troops ‘fore he invaded some place, mmm-hmmm. I ferget what his name was. God got mad at that feller, mmm-hmm. God smote him or some such. I recokon God is set against fellers doing sums like that. That there’s the opposite of faith, mmm-hmm. Faith is more like … doing something stupid cause God told you to. I reckon I’m a man of faith, mmm-hmm. You fellers best be too.

He lifts his sling blade threateningly.

CABINET: Oh yes. Yes sir. Yes Mr. President.

PRESIDENT BUSH: Jesus told me to invade Iran, mmm-hmm. We best do what He says. I know it’s stupid, mmm-hmm. I reckon I don’t wanna get myself smote, whatever that is.

CABINET: Oh no. No sir, Mr. President.

PRESIDENT BUSH: Well. All right, then. I’m tired. Good night, then.

CABINET: Good night, Mr. President.

He shuffles down the hall, still holding his slingblade. He passes a Cylon centurion, Laura Bush, bound and gagged inside an animal cage, and the burning painting of a church from Rosemary’s Baby. He reaches his bedroom, goes in.

Hold. Air raid siren. (OS)