When we last left off, our gallant crusaders, Bush Wayne and his trusted confidant, Dick Grayson-Cheney—oil executives by day, freedom fighters by night—had earned yet another significant victory in their divinely inspired war on terror.  

Another “corner was turned” as our heroes sent on a one-way trip to paradise that diabolic villain, the elusive, brilliant mastermind of the evil Iraqi insurgency, the once-invisible man known only to us mortals as al-Zarqawi: the (unelected) leader of Al Qaeda in Iraq.  

Zarqawi, who had escaped more often than the Road Runner (beep beep), taunted and eluded the boys for years with his wizardry, cunning and speed. But “Al” made a dreadful error recently when he agreed to sign a multi-year endorsement contract with New Balance running shoes.

After Nike dropped out of the bidding—the slogan “Just Do It” violates Islamic law—Zarqawi signed on with New Balance, agreed to remove his trademark jihadist mask and donned a rather pricey pair of New Balance model 1222 running shoes.

Soon he began starring in his own TV show, appropriately titled “Iraq's Funniest Home Videos”— another unfortunate miscalculation by the evil genius.

But on June 8, in the season finale, our crusaders zapped the fiend with two 500-pound missiles, just before Zarqawi’s evil program went into syndication.

Despite the 1,000 pounds of explosives dropped on his head, and clad in nothing more than his magic New Balance sneakers, Zarqawi nearly escaped yet again in his white pick-up truck, but our heroes lassoed and hog-tied the wily, wicked, maverick jihadist.  

Having achieved the rank of Terrorist-Mastermind, Zarqawi obviously does not yet qualify for protection under the Geneva Convention, but our compassionate Christian crusaders’ values trumped the protocols. They provided the evil genius with the appropriate first aid and administered him his last rites as well. But it was too late! The dastardly rogue expired peacefully, after one final desperate attempt to break free from the stretcher transporting him to an awaiting Buquba General Hospital Ambulance mercifully failed.

As he sang “Death to America” and “Feet don’t fail me now,” the curtain finally came down on the Luciano Pavarotti look-alike.

A photographer was conveniently on hand to record all the action.

With their mission to bring Zarqawi to justice finally accomplished and another milestone reached, our heroes celebrated by paying a five-minute courtesy call to the latest Iraqi Prime Minister. Bush Wayne, fond of nicknames, affectionately named the loyal Iraqi PM Pinocchio.

A very quick exit from Iraq, and it was home sweet home. The boys took a well-deserved victory lap around D.C. to the delight of an inspired Congress, fair and balanced news media and well-informed, totally engaged and enlightened American public.

But with more evildoers lurking in the shadows and new terrorists auditioning daily to become the next Iraqi Idol, Bush Wayne and Dick Grayson-Cheney postponed a well-deserved vacation from fighting evil and headed back to Crawford, Texas, for an urgent “strategery” conference.

So now, boys and girls, without further ado, please welcome back to the world stage Bush Wayne and Dick Grayson-Cheney, appearing together once again in:

Batman and Robin... The Caped Crusaders in a Comic Book War.

We now cut to the Crawford, Texas, Bat Ranch and listen in on our Caped Crusaders’ conversation, already in progress...

“Holy Jihad, Batman, we really socked it to the invisible man, Zarqawi! Pow, Bang, Zoom... you’re going to the moon!”

“Yes, Dick—I mean, Robin, but please, I hope you’ll work on improving your aim next time, my dear friend and trusted confidant.”

“My aim, Batman?”

“Yes, your third 500-pound missile hit me right in the face. But of course my armor-plated Bat Mask protected me from the minor facial cuts and bruises that Zarqawi suffered. And Robin, in the future, please remember that alcohol is prohibited in Muslim countries when hunting terrorists.”  

“Sorry, Batman, I should have had a V8. Hey, by the way, can we get some of that magic armor plating to protect our Bat Troops as well?”

“Sadly, Robin, as Alfred Rumsfeld taught us, we have to go to war with the armor we have, not the armor we want. Another brilliant battle plan served up by our genius butler.”

“Armor or no armor, Batman, two 500-pound bombs and Zarqawi nearly escaped once again? I guess Raytheon just doesn’t build missiles like they used to. How about we void their contract and give this assignment to Halliburton as well?”  

“Great idea, my trusted CEO.  Email the Carlyle Group and have them sell all our Raytheon shares and buy more Halliburton. Hurry, before the NY Times leaks this too.”

“Look, Batman, over there! It’s a bird; no, it’s a plane… oh, sorry, it’s just the Big Brother Business Report on our new model 1984 high definition Bat Telescreen...”

“...the Department of Commerce today released the latest statistics. The US economy continues to expand at a torrid pace despite the soaring interest rates, gas prices, health care costs, inflation, debt, foreclosures, bankruptcies, un-sold homes, budget and trade deficits. The number of unemployed Americans continues to decline, regardless  of daily factory closings, downsizing, out-sourcing, employee buyouts, firings and record layoffs.

“Today's Big Brother Business Report was sponsored by the people who brought you WMD. George Orwell reporting...”

Ring, ring.

“It’s the international Bat Phone, Robin. I’ll get it.  Hello, Bush Wayne, crime fighter extraordinaire, here to assist you... Ah, yes, sir...yes, sir...yes, sir... Shalom to you too, sir. … Good grief, Robin—a major setback in the war on terror! The Israeli government has just declared the earth is flat!”

“Holy Christopher Columbus, Batman, now how are we going to circle the globe to fight the terrorists who hate the freedoms we enjoy?”

“Oy vey, a real conundrum indeed, Robin. Hmnn, but I think I got it!  With courage and vigilance, America and her allies will travel to the four corners of the earth to bring these terrorists to justice. And please, Robin, be extra careful not to fall off the edge!”

“I’ll be careful, Batman.”

“Robin, trouble is lurking; we need to raise the terror alert to bright red. The Nutty Iranian Professor and Kim Jung-evil are up to their old magic tricks again, trying to turn smoking guns into mushroom clouds.”  

“Holy metamorphosis, Batman! Bring ’em on!”

“Quite right. Tell Scooter to get rolling and ‘grease’ these two remaining spokes in our Axis of Evil, so freedom and democracy can flourish in Iran and North Korea, just like it does in Iraq.”

“Batman, my Scooter got into some hot water recently and is a little rusty right now. But how about we recruit former CIA Director Slam Dunk to help us accomplish our mission?”

“Great idea. Have him mind-meld with Curveball, our Iraqi taxi driver turned secret CIA agent once again, and get some more slam dunk intelligence so we can shock and awe these two fiends, just like we did to Saddam the Joker and his army of villains: Chemical Ali, Dr. Germ, Mrs. Anthrax, and the comical Baghdad Bob.”

“Director Dunk, Batman and Robin here. Oh no, rats, damn, son-of-a-#*&%…  Batman, there is no joy in Mudville—Curveball struck out. His intelligence sucked so bad the CIA renamed him Spitball and exiled him to Guantanamo, and he’s now doing KP Duty, cooking up delicious mystery yellow cake—from Africa.”

“I hope it has no artificial ingredients, Robin. Ha, ha.”

“While we’re on cooking, Batman, former CIA Agent Valerie Flame is a pretty sweet dish; she really lights my fire. I wouldn’t mind getting undercover with her. Since we outed her and she lost her job, do you think she’s become a desperate housewife—if you get my drift?”

“I doubt she’s that desperate, my trusted Vice.  But Robin, please remember your bad heart, our Judeo-Christian values and Commandment # 7: Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

“Holy Moses, right again, Batman. I’ve broken every commandment except commit adultery. Batman, this may be a delicate question, but is there any such thing as a gay terrorist?”

“No, Dick—sorry, I mean, Robin, you’ll be happy to learn there are no gay terrorists. You have to be straight to get into paradise and meet the 72 female virgins. But why do you ask?”

“Christianity just doesn’t seem fair, Batman. I mean, these Muslim terrorists are greeted by 72 virgins, and we’re only greeted by 2000-year-old St. Peter?”

“My, my you’re a bit frisky today, Robin; has El Rusbo been feeding you some of his illegal Viagra? But do not fret, my dear friend. When the batteries finally run out on your ol’ pacemaker, you’ll sail off peacefully into the ether, wearing a long, flowing, white gown, land on a cloud and be greeted at the pearly gates by none other than St. Peter himself. Pete—we’re on a first-name basis—will rubber-stamp your American passport and zippo you’ll go right through the EZ Pass lane and straight into heaven. Soon you’ll be reunited with all your dearly departed friends, like Tricky Dick, The Gipper and Kenny Boy. You’ll feel right at home, too. All of them, immaculately dressed in long, white robes look a bit like Saudi Oil Ministers feasting off endless tables of beautifully arranged fruits and vegetables—organically grown, of course, in the Garden of Eden, and hand-picked by the dead Mexicans.”

“Holy Guacamole, Mexicans in heaven! Batman, you talk to God regularly, please instruct him to build a ‘Pearly White Fence’ before we arrive.”

“Great idea, Robin; he usually calls me around 3:00 a.m.—a very ungodly hour.”

“Hey, Batman, need a good laugh? The Tree-Hugger is back with his Chicken Little warnings: ‘The ice caps are melting, the ice caps are melting.’  It looks like the well-nourished Tree-Hugger has outgrown his lock box and the only thing that’s warming up is his food. Maybe if he lost a few pounds, the earth might  get back into balance.”

“Yes, Robin, the Tree-Hugger should pick an apple or two a day to keep the doctor away, but just like a blind squirrel who finds a nut once in a while, this time the nut didn’t fall too far from Tree-Hugger. Our flat earth is really heating up quickly, and the sea levels are rising. We must act immediately, before we pass the tipping point!”

“Should we announce a national emergency and declare war on Global Warming, Batman?”

“No, have the Secret Service start building an Ark Force 1, and let’s invest heavily in beach-front property in the Alps. The Rockies, too. Hurry!”

“Batman, all of our enemies are competing with us for a comic strip of their own. The Flip Flopper, who was with us before he was against us, now wants to cut and run. The Fat Man, Mr. Freeze Fahrenheit -911, must have joined one of Osama the Riddler’s sleeper cells; anyone seen him lately? Mrs. Bubba—the Flip Flopperess—has come over from the dark side and joined our vast right-wing conspiracy. She wants to be the first Bat Woman in 2008 so bad she’ll do or say anything. We steal the election from the Tree-Hugger’s VP in 2000, exile him back to Connecticut, now he drinks our Kool-aid while the Democrats bleat ‘Say it ain’t so, Joe!’ And Talk about Stockholm syndrome. Now even Saddam the Joker wants to come over from the dark side and help us govern Iraq.”

“Saddam the Joker wants to be PM again, Robin? Hey, now there’s an idea... Robin, sadly a new lethal weapon of mass destruction is proliferating rapidly out there, one that our defense forces are ill-equipped to defeat.”

“Holy WMD.”

“It is invisible to humans, very volatile, and lethal if not contained. It is spreading rapidly among friend and foe alike.”

“Cowards and scoundrels, you’re either with us or you’re with the terrorists…”

“Robin, let us therefore brace ourselves for our godly duties: We shall now leave the Bat Ranch, to fight this lethal weapon of mass destruction out there, so we do not have to fight it in here.”  

“Beautifully stated, Batman, but this sounds quite serious. Should we beam up a bat signal and recruit Superman to join our crusade—I mean, coalition of the willing?”

“Superman is busy at the box office, Robin, and even he can be destroyed by this lethal weapon.”

“Kryptonite, Batman?”

“No, Krypton-hate!”

“It’s better to be feared than loved, Batman.”

“Let’s roll…”

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