On this day, W. was highly agitated when the Democrats nominated Jesus Christ of Nazareth to run against his hand-picked ticket of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jeb Bush. "Jesus!" he said over and over. The group had never seen the President so angry. He walked from behind the big desk and paced the oval office, alternately shaking his fist and wiping the spittle off his chin. All he could say was, "Jesus!" "We can beat him," said Vice-President Dick Cheney. W. stopped and stared. "How?" Cheney, on the love-seat, interlaced his fingers, squeezed his hands together, then unsqueezed and stretched his palms forward-his "come unto me" pose, the staff called it, a nervous habit that betrayed extreme nervousness. "We could say He's soft on terrorism, Mr. President. You know, all that turn-the-other-cheek crap." Uncertain, the President's gaze shifted from Dick to Condoleeza, who squirmed off the sofa. "Sit here, Mr. President," she said. "Let me do your neck." W. settled into the cushions and the Secretary of State went around behind him. As she judo-chopped his shoulders, his voice sounded like a skipping CD. "Why isn't K-a-a-a-rl-l-l-l in-n-n-n-n here?" "He's on a conference call with some committee," Dick said. "Christian Veterans for Truth, I think it is." As Condoleeza kneaded the knots in his shoulders, the President did something he had never done before-he admitted a mistake. "I should have kept my big mouth shut." Scott McLellan, the press secretary, was shocked. "Sir, it wasn't your fault. I made too big a deal out of it." They were talking about the President's comment that the Republicans could beat anybody the Democrats nominated, because Karl Rove had done his research and was ready to "tell the truth" about any of the leading Democrats, all of whom, according to the President, were on the wrong side of the issues. The President had said the Dems would have to nominate Jesus himself to have a chance in this election. "It's not your fault, Scotty," the President moaned. "I'm the one who said it." "It was just a way to show that we thought our ticket was invincible," Condi added. "Which is the first step toward becoming invincible," Dick said. Dick had a saying for everything. The Secretary of Defense spoke up. "I hate to be the one to say I told you so, but I told you so." The President said, "No, you don't. You love it, Rummy. You love to say, 'I told you so.'" "You weren't even here when we thought up the Jesus joke," Dick said. "Not that," said Rummy. "I'm talking about the Constitutional Amendment we worked so hard to pass, changing the requirements for Presidential candidates." "We know what the amendment says, Mr. Secretary," said Condoleeza, briskly rubbing the President's neck with both hands. "Well, if we hadn't changed the thing so Schwarzenegger could run, the other side couldn't have pulled this stunt and nominated Jesus." "Where does He stand on abortion?" asked Dick. "You know, Herod killed all those baby boys trying to get Baby Jesus. I think Karl should authorize a commercial about that. About how He let that happen." "He was just a baby," snapped Condoleeza. "That wasn't abortion, but we could say it was," said W. "Turn the churches against Him." Rove came in, writing on some papers as he walked. The President scooted to the edge of the couch, out of Condi's grasp and she put a hand on one hip and gave Rove some attitude. "Well, it's about time." The big man ignored her. "We've got some good stuff, Mr. President." "On Jesus?" "Yep!" "This I gotta hear," said Rumsfeld. "We better be careful," said Condi. "Whose side are you on?" asked W. "Yours, of course, sir. Yours and Arnie's and Jeb's. But … Jesus? Our truth squad turned up something bad on Jesus? It's just hard to grasp." "Oh, wait'll you see the commercials," said Rove. "None of our religious friends will vote for Him after we saturate all the Southern states, Ohio, and the west with these new spots." Cheney executed the "come unto me" motion. "I knew we could nail him!" Karl Rove winced. "Bad choice of words, Mr. Vice-President." "What's the deal?" asked W. "How do we make Him the issue instead of Arnie and Jeb?" "With a series of commercials designed to make the Democrats sorry they ever heard of Jesus," said Rove. "Show me," the President said cautiously. "All right, everybody. Remember, none of us had anything to do with any of this. No contact with the committees. The President was as surprised as the rest of us when these commercials hit the airwaves day after tomorrow." "We know the drill," said Condi, looking at the President for approval. The President motioned impatiently. "Come on, show me what I didn't see." Rove pointed the remote control at the big plasma screen within the bookcase. "This first one is on taxes." "What did Jesus ever say about taxes?" asked Dick. "You know, render unto Caesar? He also hung out with tax collectors, right? Matthew? Zaccheus? Watch the spot." Thirty seconds later, the whole group applauded. The President said, "You've outdone yourself this time, Karl." "Thank you, sir." "I always had a feeling he was a liberal," said Dick. Although she smiled when the President smiled, Condoleeza's voice seemed strained. "Can we do this to Jesus? Make him seem like a tax and spend liberal?" "Hey, we used His own words, didn't we?" asked Rove. Rumsfeld had laughed at the spot along with the rest of the group, but he, too, was worried. "I don't want to be the spoilsport here, but that spot was more about what Jesus didn't say than what he said." "Of course," Rove said. "It's a proven technique," said W. "He could have spoken out about tax cuts, but he never did. So it follows that He's in favor of higher taxes. It's brilliant. What else, Karl?" Rove pointed the remote control again and the committee's credentials popped onto the screen. "This one's about socialized medicine." "This I gotta see," said the press secretary. "Behold!" said Rove. The ad was a 30-second re-enactment of a few of Jesus' miracles with a sarcastic announcer doing the voice-over. "Jesus believes in Free Health care for everybody. But who will pay the doctors? You and me, our families, that's who. And that will require new taxes. Jesus! How much more can we afford? Paid for by the Christian Veterans for Truth, not affiliated with any political candidate." Rove's florid face beamed with pride as he accepted the praises of everyone in the Oval office. "The next one's my favorite. Family values." "If you nail him on family values, you're a genius," said Dick. Rove said, "Just watch." The spot began with the 14th chapter of Matthew in which Jesus told his followers to despise their families and follow him. It showed men in robes, the disciples, saying goodbye to wives and children and falling in line behind Jesus. "That was awesome," said Condoleeza, speaking first for once. "I've heard sermons that explain all that," W said. "He can finagle his way out of that one." "Doesn't matter," said Rove. "Explanations don't carry near the force of accusations. After this runs for the week, He'll be cast as the anti-family-values candidate and have to spend the rest of the election trying to explain that charge while we're leveling new ones." The President smirked. "Karl, Condi's right. That's an awesome spot." The others applauded. "There's more-you'd never realize how soft on crime he was until you read the Gospels," Rove said. "Did you know he forgave a prostitute and also saved an adulteress from stoning?" "Weak on capital punishment," agreed W. "Wants everyone to have eternal life," said McLellan. "Including criminals," added Dick. "He pardoned the one on the cross, you know." "That's all included," said Rove. W. pursed his lips. "Those poor Democrats won't know what hit 'em." "They outsmarted themselves, nominating Jesus, thinking we'd back off," Dick chortled. "This may destroy their party," said the President. "If they can't win with Jesus, who lived a perfect life but is on the wrong side of all our issues, who can they win with?"
