With Tauriq Aziz As Mr. Carlin

I know Bushco wants to keep everything under wraps concerning the release without charges being filed against the two scientists who helped develop Saddam Hussein’s chemical weapons. However, through some intense investigative journalism on my part and some even more intense hallucinating, I can now announce with total certainly the reason why Dubya released them.

It’s because they’ve been signed by Fox Television to star in a brand new sitcom! It's the "Dr. Germ and Mrs. Anthrax" Show!

Here is the preliminary script for the pilot episode…imagine the two ladies sitting down on an elevated train in Chicago, one wearing a beige trench coat and the other carrying a newspaper under her arm, sitting next to a short, bald man with a slight stammer. After exchanging pleasantries, they leave the train, descend the stairs and head for home.

They take a few minutes to relax and work in the kitchen, when they hear a knock on the door. The person knocking (airline pilot Howard Borden) then opens the door and enters the room.

Rihab Taha: Hello, Howard.

Huda Salih Mahdi Ammash: Hello, Howard.

Howard (holding a sugar bowl): Hello, ladies.

(Cue canned audience applause)

Howard: My, you both are looking particularly lovely today in your black shawls and long skirts to hide your appearance.

Rihab: Well, you know what they say in Iran, Howard. Better to have a black shawl than a live Shah!

(Cue canned audience laughter)

Howard (sitting down on the couch in the living room, putting each hand on his knee): Oh Rihab, you’re such a cutup. But I have to say, Huda, that it turns me on to be around a woman like you who keeps her thoughts to herself. You know what they say about the quiet ones (snicker).

(Cue canned audience “woooo” sound, or whatever that’s called.)

Huda (muttering as she chops away furiously on a cutting board, destroying an onion and crying slightly): Better to feed my entrails to the buzzards than to fornicate with an American infidel like you!

Howard: Sorry, Huda, I didn’t quite catch that. Can you repeat it please?

Rihab (elbowing Huda in the ribs and cursing quietly at her in Arabic): Err…what she said Howard, was….was…was that, she’s been shopping at sales but getting all flustered, but when Howard stops by, she gets so “in a state” that she doesn’t know what to do.

(Cue canned audience laughter)

Howard: Aw, Huda, that’s sweet of you. Hey, by the way, do you have any sugar? I need it for my coffee. I usually load up before I take off. I’ve got a transatlantic run tonight.

Rihab: That’s nice. Where are you flying to?

Howard: I don’t know.

Huda: Weren’t you going to ask someone before you stepped onto the plane, you imperialist oppressor?

(Cue canned audience laughter)

Howard (giving Huda a bit of a funny look): Well, yes, of course. It depends whether or not I’m flying direct to Heathrow from O’Hare or “laying over” first at Newark. I’ll find that out when I arrive at the terminal.

Rihab: Well, this is so interesting, Howard. But I’m sorry to tell you that we don’t have any sugar. However, Huda and I have been working on a new recipe, and we’d like to give you a taste and see if you like it.

Howard: Really? My, how thoughtful. I’d love to give it a try. What’s the occasion?

Huda (growling slightly): “We’re throwing a party, and I just made some punch.”

Howard (getting up and walking over to the kitchen): “Sounds great.”

(Howard takes a small glass of a clear liquid and walks from the kitchen back to the living room, sitting down on the couch again and bringing the glass up to his face near his nose.)

Howard: “Hmmm, this has an unusual smell, sort of like bitter almonds a bit. Reminds me a bit of some Scotch I once had, Glenfiddich™ I think.”

Rihab (laughing slightly with Huda): “Oh, it will feel warm as it goes down all right.”

(Cue the murmur sound from the audience, or whatever that’s called)

(Howard takes some of the drink and put the glass down on the coffee table, placing his hands on his knees once more. At the same time, Rihab and Huda start laughing and shaking slightly. As soon as the glass touches the coffee table, Howard grabs his throat and falls over onto the floor, screaming hoarsely as he tries to get up.)

Howard (growling and gurgling): “GAAAACK! I THINK MY ESOPHAGUS IS ON FIRE!”

Rihab (laughing out loud along with Huda): “What are you talking about, Howard? Did I use too much vermouth?”

Howard (throwing his legs out but otherwise immobile): “YOU HORRIBLE BITCHES! WHAT DID YOU DO??!! I THINK MY LIVER JUST EXPLODED! AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!”

(Howard kicks his legs one final time before collapsing, dead on the floor. Rihab and Huda slowly walk over towards him, hovering over the body.)

Rihab: Any signs of a hematoma? Any bleeding from his nose, mouth or ears?

Huda: No, there are no visible signs indicating that he has been infected with the new strain. But it may mutate, so we’d better pack and leave quickly.

(Rihab and Huda both walk quickly to their bedrooms and start packing.)

Rihab: Now, we have to move to someplace else and get new jobs. What are we going to do?

Huda: Oh, we can go to California. They hire illegal aliens for nannies all the time.

(Cue canned audience laughter)

Rihab: Maybe San Jose or someplace near Mexico? (talking as they continue to pack)

Huda: No. My aunt lives in San Francisco. She used to watch this family with four girls. One man takes care of all of them, and they live in an old Victorian.

Rihab: That might be good. What is the name of the family?

Huda: I think they’re called the Tanner family.

(cue the “Full House” theme – “everywhere you go, everywhere you see, botulism for you and me…”)

OK, was this sick and twisted? Yes, I know it was. But as far as I’m concerned, that also describes that fact that we had these two women in custody for almost two and a half years and could not make a case against them, even though they were designated as “high value targets” by Bushco. We also will probably never know what kind of “quid pro quo” took place to prompt their release.

This whole episode is STILL more evidence to me (as if we needed any) that we have a presidential administration guilty of arrogance, stupidity, and impeachable incompetence. And even I know that that is not funny in any way, shape, or form.

Update 12/29: I'm chastising myself at this moment because I meant to point out that I was inspired (possessed?) to write this post after reading Robert Scheer's excellent column on The Huffington Post. The very last paragraph should be read by every citizen of this country.