FIRST DEBATE

(Live from Charlie Os in Montpelier, VT.)

Moderator:  “Okay.  President Obama has won the coin toss, so you rack, Governor Romney.”

Romney:  “Shit.  All right.  Hey, I need another Bud here.  (mumbles–‘Gotta rack for this miserable black…’)

Obama:  “Say what, White BOY?”

Romney:  “Nothing.  ‘scuse me, my fellow Americans.”  (racks)

Obama:  “Whew.  That’s a pretty shitty-ass rack.  Put the goddamn eight ball where it’s supposed to go.  Motha!”

Romney:  “Hey, I’m not as use to this game as you are.  And you’ve had four more years of practice.  About all you’ve fucking done.”

Obama (takes a swig of single malt scotch):  “Hell, I don’t need practice, you honky dipshit.  I was cleaning up in pool at Harvard Law while you were probably trying to figure out how to give a cue ball a close trim.”

Romney:  “Fuck you.  If you don’t like the rack, concede!  I need another shot of JD with that Bud.”

Moderator:  “Gentlemen, we do have a time constraint here.  This station wants to air its new comedy series, Leave It To Muhammad, after we’re finished.”

Romney:  “Well, tell That One to quit fucking with me.  He’s trying to distract my attention from the issues here.”

Obama:  “Distract your WHAT?  Heh-heh, that’s rich.  Speaking of which, how about a little side bet here, Whiteface.  Say an even Mil.  You make more than that in interest on those fucking Chinese slave shop investments, or whatever.”

Romney:  “Listen, you arrogant uppity black bastard, I earned every cent of my money.  The hard way.”

Obama:  “Yeah.  Was that your ole lady?  Or yo mama?” (takes big swig of scotch, and hiccups)

Romney (slobbers):  “Break, Goddamn You!”

Obama (breaks):  “HEY!  HA!  Well, piss and shit on you, White BOY!  Two solids!  I guess Mister Man here, the Pres-E-dent, got lows.  And you’re just a dirty white dog waiting for me to run the table so’s you can jump down from the roof of your car and run home to Blondie, whatshername?  Heh.  Two ball in the corner.”  (sinks it)

Romney:  “Leave my wife out of this (‘hic’), Brillo-Boy.  I don’t say dissy shit about your fucking wife.”

Obama (downs his fourth scotch):  “Five ball, side.  No?  That’s cause you’re jealous that I’m gettin’ it every night and you’re not.  (sinks five ball)  Everybody in Charlie Os here and in the rest of the fuckin’ country knows you’re a little rich white pussy-whipped asshole.  Six ball, bank, corner.  And I’ll have another (‘hic’) scotch, Moderator.”

Romney:  “You can’t make that.  And Ann fucks like a mink.  What’s this single malt scotch shit?  Are the American people payin’ for that?”

Obama (sinks six ball):  “I get more fuckin’ donations from real people than all the millions you’ll ever raise, pinhead.  And my dick’s bigger than yours too.”

Moderator:  “Mr. President, please.  There are young people watching.”  (Obama sinks seven ball)

Romney:  “Yeah, probably all those poor sufferin’ gang bangers.  Not out robbin’ people tonight.  Another JD.” (‘burp’)

Obama:  “Say, mo-fuck, how’d you like to step outside after I finish you off here?  One ball, corner.  Then, eight ball, side.”

Romney:  “What? (‘hic’)  Your friggin’ gang out there?  Bunch of lowlife blacks and spics and lessies waitin’ for me?  I’m carryin’ mace, ya fuckin’ N-Word!”

Moderator:  “Governor Romney!”

Obama:  “That’s okay. (‘hic’)  That’s cool, that’s cool.  (sinks one ball)  Mace?  No shit, titnose?  What’s that?  Some shit you put on your pecker to get (‘hic’) yo big fat Blondie ho to suck it?  Rich White Pre-vert Stuff?  (Obama sinks eight ball)  That’s GAME, Frat BOY!”

Romney:  “Why, you sleaz…(‘hic’)…in’ pimp bastard (‘hic’) dirty…”

“Moderator:  “Gentlemen…”

Romney (advances toward Obama waving cue stick)  “I’m not takin’ any more (“hic-burp’) shid from you, ya cheatin’ black sonofabitchin’…”

Obama:  “WHOA!  Cheatin’?  Say WHAT, IRS Meat?!  You ‘cousin’ me (‘hic’) a cheatin’ at pool, asswipe yo white ugly face!  Them’s fightin’ words, White BOY!”

Romney:  “I saw dat seven ball shid shot.  And so did the ‘Merican peoples.  Ya kissed my fifteeen, ya faggot!  Thought I wasn’t lookin’? (‘hic-hic’)  Whad?  Ya think I’m shidfaced?  Did ya see dat seven ball shot, Mistah Moderator?  Did ya see dat shot, my fellow ‘Muricuns? (‘hic-hac-gulp’)  I call for for…for…forfa…fa…”

Obama:  “Da word is for-fei-ture, moo-ron.  Whad (‘hic’) happens ta dose Mur-E-Cans who votes for dinks like youse.”

Romney:  “Yeah (‘hic’), for-fa-tor fer cheatin’.  I WIN!”

Moderator:  “Now, Governor Romney…”

Obama (turns to Moderator):  “Hey, shut da fuck up, YOU!  (downs his scotch)  He’s not Governor of shid anymore.  ‘Ceptin’ in his shorts.  And you’re not the Political Cor-rect Pol-Lices here.  If I want da Pigs, I’ll have Secret (‘hic’) Service get ’em.  Do somethin’ useful.  Another scotch!”

Romney:  “That’s another fuckin’ thing!  (‘hic-drool’)  How’s come you That One there gets more erect…more pro-tect-tions than ME?  Whad’s dat shid?” (‘urpp’)

Obama:  “Be-Cause.  I’m da Pres-O-Dent of the U-Night-ed Fuckin’A States, shid-lips!  A course I gets mo ‘tection than you. (‘hic-hic’)  They’s ‘tectin’ my ass against yo white disease.  The one what makes you a moo-ron.  Shid…I mean, shit.  Where’s dat scotch?  Loser here’s buyin’!”

Romney:  “You fuck!  I’ll (‘hic-hac-burp’) show ya loser.  (shoves Obama)  Ya punk!  I’ll whup da ferkin’ shid outtaya!”

Obama (pulls out switchblade):  “All right.  (turns to crowd)  Y’all whities get a round on the loser (‘hic’) here.  Whiles I carve a Z on his fo’head.  Fo Zippy da Pinhead.”

Romney (staggers back, gulping, and pissing his pants):  “All right.  Come on, Blackie!  I’ll shove dis stick up yer black ass!  Come an (‘burp’) git it!” (Romney twirls pool stick, Ninja style)

Obama:  “Why ya dumb Mormon Moo-ron…bringin’ a pool cue ta a knife fight!  Meat!”  

(Romney and Obama go down together on the floor and roll around, cursing and screaming.  And puking.)  

Moderator:  “Ah…and so, that concludes tonight’s debate.  Join us for the second Presidential Debate next week, live from Ned’s Two Card Hold ‘Em in Kalispell, Montana.  And stay tuned for Leave It To Muhammad.  Goodnight.

Peter Buknatski

Montpelier, Vt.