15 - The Tragedy of Bushius Caesar Act 5 Scene 1

 
                     Enter McCainus, Georgie P. and their army

Georgie P.:       Now, Anus dear, ere day turns into night,
                        Will our great goal at last heave into sight?

McCainus:        Don’t call me Anus! Title such as this
                        Alone thine uncle used. I’ll call you Piss,
                        Not P, if you persist. Our course is fair,
                        Rummie and Chenie we will beat four square.

Georgie P.:       Oh, An’… McCainus, how canst be so sure
                        That Chenie, Rummie will not long endure?

McCainus:         I paid the Surgeon-General to implant
                         In Chenie a pacemaker from Guidant,
                         Their ICD model that with a short
                         Circuit his life forever shall abort.
                         And with Hastertus next in line of power
                         At last will dawn my effing finest hour
                         For I’ll manoeuvre him to make me Veep
                         And with a Guidant then put him to sleep.
                                                                                                              
Geogrie P:        O canny one, let’s e’en now sing our song
                        Of victory, for whate’er could go wrong?
                       
                                   Alarums, excursions sennet,. Enter Caesar

Caesar:             Hello! It’s me! I’m back. Bushie redux!

McCainus:        O Gawd! ‘Tis worse than vile acid reflux!
                       
                        Georgie P. kicks his legs high in the air and breaks out into song

Georgie P.:       Hello, Bushie, well, hello, Bushie, it's so nice
                        To have you back where you belong.

McCainus:                                                                  A vice
                        And not a wringer will I use to catch
                        Your nipple. Now shut up, you stupid snatch!
                        This dread appearance doth confound my plan.
                        Out, damned spot! Out, I say!

William S.:                                                     Wrong play! Wrong man!
                        That quote’s Macbush, and Mitchell in my cast
                        Ne’er was. Now oust that Bushie Caesar fast!

Writing C.         Wordsmith, Grammarian, send Bush to hell!
                       
                              Ruckus, screams, shouts. Exit Caesar limping

                                                   Alarums, excursions. Enter sponsor 2

Sponsor 2:        For pests, unwanted guests, get Roachmotel!
                                                                  
                                                              Exit sponsor 2
 
                                         Drum. Enter Cheneyus and Rummeus and their army 

Cheneyus:         They stand and would have parley.

Rummeus:                                                               We must talk.

McCainus:         But in dread battle you’ll not walk the walk.

Georgie P.:        You lack cojones (Mom’s from Mexico).
                         Stand down; your muscles, pray, unflex and go

Cheneyus:         You dare to taunt us, peevish schoolboy? Zounds!
                                                         
McCainus:         You show your teeth like apes and fawn like hounds!

Cheneyus:         Thou puking pox-marked plume-plucked foul giglet!

McCainus:         Thou qualling flap-mouthed boil-brained vile mammet!

Rummeus:         Thou currish old Europ’an barnacle!

Georgie P.:        Thou empty pigeon-liver'd testicle!

Cheneyus:          Thou that forever dost thy panties soil!

McCainus:         Thou bubbling vat of excremental oil!
                       
                                       Alarums, excursions. Enter sponsor 1
Sponsor 1:          For all your burnings, tortures, Abu Ghraib,
                          Use Halliburton’s oil – pass the bribe!
                       
                                                          Exit sponsor 1

Cheney:             Thou paunchy rump-fed bunch-back'd whoreson strumpet!

McCainus:         Shut up! Or know where thou wilt feel my trumpet!
                                          
                                          Alarums, excursions sennet,. Enter Caesar

Caesar:             You poor affronters! I can spice your spat
                         And give you insults far better than that:
                         Yo mama is so fat, the elephant…

Writing C.:         My doughty friends, go get that miscreant!
                       
                                           Ruckus, screams, shouts. Exit Caesar limping

McCainus:         Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.

Georgie P.         We sheathe our swords now, later to unsheath.
                      
                                       Exeunt Cheneyus, Rummeus and their army dancing a polka

McCainus:          Now to our diverse posts let us depart
                         To clobber Chenie, Rummie from the start.
                          But should ought untoward perchance befall us
                          Forever and forever farewell, Georgius.

Georgie P.:         Forever and forever farewell, Anus.

McCainus:         I told you ne’er to call me Anus, doofus!

Georgie P.:       ‘Tis not my fault, McCainus, but the bardus,
                        Who wrote the line because thy name too spacious
                         Combined with metre less than o’ercapacious
                         Could not accommodate all of McCainus.
                        With accent on the ‘ain,’ a fault heinous,
                        The bardic pacman ate McC, rapacious,
                        Hence used I thy nickname, forsooth, audacious.
                             
                      Exeunt, dancing a tango, Georgie P. gripping a yellow rose of Texas between his teeth