GEORGE W. & THE DECIDERS

by Dr. W.R. Marshall, Ph.D
October 7, 2007
NewsWithViews.com

Rock �n Roll never dies�it just gets old; but that has never stopped aging rockers from hitting the road again and trying to recapture past glory, or trying to convince audiences they weren�t third rate and they deserve the praise lavished on other bands.

George W and the Deciders, a little garage band out of Texas, hit the road back in the nineties and climbed to the top, but, like many lip-synching, over-produced, copy-cat bands, the public eventually had enough. (Ask Ms. Spears or Mr. Rumsfeld what happened when fans got wise to their act.)

But some old rockers never learn and take it on the road anyway, so George W & The Deciders, knowing the end is in sight, loaded up the bus and headed out to see if they still had their chops. What follows is the only record of the band�s one and only come-back concert.

�Hello, Charleston�we are in Alabama, right guys? I�m George W, they�re The Deciders, and we wanna rock.�

(A smattering of applause.)

�All right, all right, I know you didn�t come to hear me talk��

�You got that right.�

�Security, taser that guy, he�s a terrorist. And while I�m talking about terrorists, here�s one you might remember from about five years ago; �You�re either against the terrorists, or you�re for them�. One, two, four, yeah��

(The song ends and yawns can be heard throughout the auditorium.)

�All right, all right, I thought that would get ya�ll going. Right now I�d like to take it down a little��

�I didn�t think they made numbers that small.�

�Bag that guy and send him to Gitmo. Anyway, I�d like to bring out the guy who made all this possible, the man who knew my daddy and who knows me. He�s gonna sing a little ballad he wrote a while back. So put your hands together for my friend, the President of the United States, Big Dick Cheney. Whoooo.�

(Silence, classic cricket chirping noise.)

�Thank you, thank you, you�re too kind. I�d like to sing something for you that I wrote back in �02. You all know the words�just substitute �Tehran� for �Baghdad��and sing along:

(Boos drive Cheney off the stage.)

�I�ll see you all in hell.�

�He�s serious. Hey, I got a special treat for you tonight, one of my biggest fans, and one your own, Lindsey Graham. Come on out here, Lindsey.�

(Polite applause.)

�Come on, you can do better than that.�

(They can�t.)

�Thank you, folks. Now let�s show ol� George W here some good old southern hospitality��

�You want us to lynch him.�

�Put that guy�s name on my ignore F.I.S.A. list.�

�No, I want to give him a big ol� southern chant. Say it with me: More five dollar rugs. More five dollar rugs. More five dollar�thank you and good night.

�Thank you, Lindsey. Hey, Dick, is it me, or did he have his eyes done? Well, why don�t we kick this thing into gear with one of my favorites, and I know one of yours; �Let�s fight �em there so we don�t have to fight �em here.�

�Did you say �bite �em�?�

�That crap�ll stop after I declare martial law. Hit it, fellas.�

(The song ends. The arena is empty. Even the crickets have left. All that remains are two people, sitting down front, who got here early for tomorrow�s lecture by James Dobson.)

�Love ya, Dubya.�

�And we love you. G�nite Abu Ghraib.�

(Later, in the bus.)

�That didn�t go as well as I thought it would, Dick.�

�No problem, we�ll just have the guys at Fox call the Democrats wussies again, and they�ll fall all over themselves to vote to authorize the war. Hell, I�ll bet we could get them to give us money to invade Moscow.�

�That�s not near Crawford is it? I gotta sell that place in year, and I don�t want the property values to go down.�

� 2007 - W.R. Marshall - All Rights Reserved

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