You're Welcome America: A Final Night With George W. Bush (2009) Movie Script

This is former commander to the

Commander in Chief Dick Cheney

reminding you that there's

no flash photography

and all cell phones,

pagers, electronic devices

should be left on

during the show

so they may be swept up

in our broad,

yet semi-legal net

of intelligence gathering.

Also, because I have

awarded

a no-bid contact

to Halliburton

to operate the restrooms,

toilet paper is now

$15 a sheet.

Enjoy the show

and go fuck yourselves.

So you can come back

and pick me up later?

Thank you.

That was weird.

When the pilots of Marine One

said they were gonna

drop me off in New York City,

I thought

they were joking.

I said sure.

You know, "While you're at it, why don't you

drop me off in the faggy Theater District?"

And guess what?

They did.

So, uh...

so the joke's on me.

But let me be clear about something.

I'm just kidding, okay?

I don't think

theater's faggy.

Except for "Cats."

And "I Love You, You're

Perfect, Now Change."

Yeah, that one's queer

and Yiddish-y.

You know, if you

want to treat yourself

to just a wonderful night

out at the theater,

just an outstanding show

about pride,

work ethic,

and values,

without any sort

of gay agenda,

go see "Rent."

Laura and I must've seen that

show no less than 80 times.

♪ 525,600 minutes ♪

♪ How do you measure

a year in the life? ♪

That's a little something

from "Rent."

Yeah.

But we're not here tonight

to sing show tunes.

We're here to remember

and cherish,

and celebrate my last eight

years of service to you,

the fine citizens

of this nation

because as of, what,

about seven weeks ago,

I'm now

"George W. Bush,

former President

of the United States."

Thank you.

That's very sweet of you.

That's totally unexpected.

No, it's nice.

Yeah.

Hey, look, here's the deal.

I can't deny what happened

seven weeks ago.

It happened.

It's the Inauguration.

It's the law.

And I'll be honest with you.

I'm a fan of

the Tiger Woods guy.

I, uh...

I like him.

He seems like a smart guy.

He's a great speechmaker.

Every time he talks,

it's like Shakespeare

having sex with a

bottle of Courvoisier.

You know?

His words just wash over you

like hot butterscotch pudding,

you know?

It's just like...

"Don't stop."

You know?

But tonight's about me, okay?

This is my farewell,

and...

sure, it's a bit melancholy.

But with every ending

there are new beginnings,

much the same way

the break-up of the Beatles

gave us a far

superior band in Wings...

or the end of "Friends"

gave us "Joey."

Did you just

roll your eyes at me?

You right there in the second row,

you just roll your eyes at me?

This is the third row.

No, I can count.

It's the second row.

See, in the theater the third

row is called the second row.

That's how they do it.

Tell you right now you'd better wipe

that smirk off your face, okay?

I'll have you removed.

It's not a big deal.

You're probably from "The New York

Times." You from "The New York Times"?

No.

Are you Paul Krug?

No.

Are you Thomas J. Friedman?

Are you Maureen O'Dowd?

No.

No, I'm not a woman.

You're not a woman? Is

that what you said? No.

You a comedian?

Are you like a funny guy?

Are you Sinbad?

Are you Penn and Teller?

Watch yourself, okay?

"New York Times."

Give me a break.

Let us pray.

Dear Lord Jesus Christ...

and by "Jesus Christ," I'm

referring to blond, good-looking,

lightly-bearded or

clean-shaven Jesus Christ.

Not hippie-looking Jesus,

or swarthy, more-

middle-eastern-looking Jesus...

who's probably more

historically accurate...

Not that guy.

So dear clean-shaven or...

lightly-beared-

like-Mike-Piazza Jesus...

we give thanks to you

and to everything you do.

Your love and acceptance

washes over all of us

like the warm healing waters

of one of those European toilets

that cleans the inside and out.

I believe it's called

a "bidett".

Dear blond...

almost-Swiss-looking Jesus,

we ask you to allow us to accept

everyone in this theater tonight,

regardless of their

religious beliefs

whether it be

Muslim or Hindu

or Jewish or witchcraft.

Dear sweet-smelling

-of-lavender-

and-Dial-soap Jesus,

bring us together tonight

in solidarity,

and not "separatude."

Dear life-of-the-party,

always-with-a-funny-joke Jesus,

walking around in a cool

pair of Crocs,

holding a can of Diet Slice,

making people wonder

at the party,

"Wait, is there Diet Slice

at the party?"

"No, Jesus

brought his own."

"Oh, 'cause I would

really love some Diet Slice."

"Well, don't talk to me.

Talk to Jesus.

"Seriously, don't embarrass

me in front of Jesus.

"It took him a lot

to come to my party.

"So don't bug him.

"Great. Now he left.

Way to go, man.

He took his Diet Slice

with him."

That Jesus.

Once again, we thank you

for everything you do,

and want to remind everyone

in this theater

that by participating

in this prayer,

they have automatically accepted Jesus

Christ as their lord and savior,

regardless of their

religious beliefs,

they cannot get out of it

no matter what,

retroactive as soon as

I say "Amen." Amen.

So after eight years,

this crazy ride's over.

Can I be honest with you?

I feel as free

as balls in boxers.

Yeah.

I can now do anything I want.

Hell, I might even have

a beer tonight.

Or better yet,

smoke a joint.

Or a "spleef" as they say

in the hip-hop community

Yeah.

Put on a little Common...

or Nas.

Yeah.

Hell, I'm such

a wild card right now,

I might even show

a picture of my penis.

Throw my penis up there.

Go ahead, do it.

Throw it up there.

Come on, now.

That's how unpredictable I am.

If you're sitting there

and you think it didn't happen,

or it was maybe a mirage,

I'll do it again.

Do it again!

Throw it up there again.

That's what you call

"shock and awe" right there.

That's my stimulus package.

That one doesn't

cost you 800 bajillion-

billion-jillion-

Monopoly money dollars.

I asked my

Secret Service guy there, Jerry,

to score me some

sticky green buds tonight

and this is what he delivered.

It's called "Panamanian

Devil's Crotch."

So you know it's good.

You know what else

I found out?

I get Secret Service detail

for the next 10 years.

So for the next 10 years,

I get a guy like Jerry

right here

at my beck and call.

Go ahead, bones it out.

Believe me, that's a bromance

in the making right there.

Clapping for the bromance.

I love it.

So for the next 10 years,

Secret Service has to do

anything I want.

For instance, if I'm at

a Reba McEntire concert...

and I'm too tired

to walk back to the car,

Secret Service has to,

by law,

carry me piggyback

back to the parking lot.

Or if I decide to get

a tattoo on my back

of that scary-looking

Jewish character

from all the "Lord

of the Rings" movies...

What's his name?

Skinny little Jewish guy,

what's his name?

Gollum. Gollum. Yeah.

Gollum. If I decide to get a

tattoo of Gollum on my back...

which I've threatened to do

countless times, yeah...

and I don't got

the money on me,

Secret Service

has to spot me.

And by "spot me,"

I mean,

"give me the money that I

will forget to pay back."

This is all paid for by you,

the taxpayers.

Don't get mad at me. I'm just

benefiting from the system

that's already in place.

It's one of the many perks,

if you will.

So here we are.

Just you and me.

Face to face.

Mano y mano.

I don't know how many of you

are familiar

with a news agency

by the name of CNN.

They came out with a poll

in May of 2008

that states that I'm the most

unpopular president

in modern US history.

71% of Americans

at that time.

That means you guys

in this theater

unless you happen

to be an illegal,

in which I suggest

you leave.

Once again,

wipe that smirk off your face.

Do you hear me?

I used to be a cheerleader

at Yale, okay?

They don't just

hand that shit out.

Anyway...

71% of Americans

at that time disapproved

of the job that I was doing.

That's an all-time... well, that's one poll.

That's one poll.

So don't get cocky.

Fox News poll was

exactly the opposite

if you check.

Anyway, 71% of Americans

at that time,

they disapproved

of the job that I was doing.

That's an all-time high

for a disapproval rating.

That's higher than Truman,

higher than Nixon.

Kinda crazy if you ask me.

I mean, hell, they made a movie about

me while I was still president.

Yeah, starring Josh Brolin.

He's a good-looking guy.

That's got to be

good for something.

They could have cast

someone awful like Sean Penn...

or Diego Luna.

You gotta understand,

no president's perfect,

but almost 3/4 of the country

not liking me?

I can't accept that.

Diego Luna.

So before you make up your mind,

before the powers that be

close up the "anals"

of history...

hear me out,

and get to know the man.

I was born July 6th, 1946

in New Haven, Connecticut.

I'm the firstborn child

of George Herbert

Walker Bush

and Barbara "Scary Lady" Bush.

I got three younger

brothers and a sister.

We're a tight-knit family.

We like to goof off,

joke around,

have a good time.

Brother Jeb,

he used to be governor

of Florida.

Brother Neil,

he did some savings and loan

stuff back in the '80s.

And brother Marvin...

and sister Dorothy...

are great.

They do things too.

Like I was saying,

we're a tight-knit unit.

I've said this before

and I'll say it again.

Families is where

our nation finds hope,

where wings take dream.

Think about that

for a second.

Where wings...

take dream.

It's a pretty

powerful statement.

I grew up mostly

in the Midland

and Houston areas of Texas.

We got any folks here

from Texas tonight?

You know, it's funny.

People who meet me

say they see a certain swagger.

Well, in Texas,

that's called walking.

Where in Texas you from? Dallas!

Dallas?

A lot of peop...

What was the other one?

Houston? A lot of good

cocaine in Houston.

Gets hot there in the summertime

though, doesn't it? Yeah.

They got good Tex-Mex,

though, right?

Yeah.

Real good to have you here.

Anyway...

Midland is not

like New York.

It's a lot more

gradual lifestyle,

but in looking back,

it was the perfect place

for wings to take dream.

I was a...

I was a simple, normal kid.

I liked to do

simple, normal things.

Like shoot wrist rockets

at a stray cat

strapped to

a propane tank.

Just basic mischief,

you know?

This one time,

we shot up a sleeping hobo

full of Novocaine

and then we'd yell

"Pie on a windowsill,"

and they'd wake up

all numb and poor

and...

and we'd laugh.

But that's just the type of stuff

you do growing up in Midland.,

when you're a young,

precocious little 30-year-old.

Hey, but let it be known

here and now,

I'm a Texan through

and through,

a Texan who was born

in Connecticut,

went to boarding school

in Massachusetts,

and college at Yale

and Harvard.

I would've gone to the University

of Texas for law school,

but there was

one small issue.

I was not accepted.

My time at Yale was great.

It was very formative.

I received a Bachelor's Degree

in history,

and my nickname

was "Gin and Tonic."

While at Yale, I was a

member of a secret society

called

the Skull and Bones,

which I used to call

"Skull and Boners."

The guys thought that was

funny for about a month.

Then they asked me

to please stop.

But I didn't

'cause I'm tenacious.

The society is so secret,

I have to stop talking about it.

I can't tell you

anything more about it.

Okay, I'll tell you one thing,

but it does not leave

the theater, okay?

During the intense

initiation period,

you have to divulge

all your sexual exploits

to your potential

fellow brothers.

I revealed to the group

how I'd just participated

in my first threesome

with two hot Latina women.

And a guy named

Dave Rothschild.

What I didn't realize was

this was actually a four-way.

I always thought a threesome

was three people plus yourself.

Yeah, we all had

a good laugh about that.

Then someone said,

"Seriously though,

"why was another guy there

in the first place?"

And I explained how

he wasn't there at first.

At first, it was just me

and the two hot Latina women,

gettin' at it.

And I mean getting at it.

There was muff

flying everywhere.

I'm talking

knee-deep in muff.

Had to get

your muff-waders on.

You know what I mean?

You would not

know what I mean.

Needless to say, there was

a high volume of muff.

Is there anyone at this point

of the story who's confused

as to how much muff

there was?

'Cause I can keep going

with the analogies.

Okay, you know

the Great Wall of China?

Imagine that's made

entirely of muff.

You know those water cannons

that riot police shoot

to hose down crowds?

Imagine the only thing

coming out is liquid muff...

at like 3,000

pounds per second.

Yeah.

We got it covered?

Okay. Muff said.

Anyway, I look up and there's

this guy standing there.

He says,

"Hi, I'm Dave Rothschild."

I'm like,

"Do I know you, Dave?"

He's like, "No,

I don't think so."

I'm like,

"Do you go to Yale?"

He's like,

"No, I'm from out of town.

I just got off a bus

from Denver."

Well, anyway, I didn't

want to lose momentum,

so I got back into the flow.

Next thing you know,

Dave Rothschild makes

a pretty seamless transition

into the group...

and something special

is happening.

Two hours later,

I didn't know where our four

bodies end and where they begin.

It was like

the "Kama Sutra"

combined with

the power of The Hulk

at a Dave Matthews concert.

In other words,

it just felt right.

Let me fast forward to my time

in the Air National Guard.

Between 1972 and 1973,

there's a little blip

on my record.

By blip, I mean lack

of documentation

that I was ever

even around.

Those in the media

have claimed that I went AWOL.

Well, I just want to say

here for the first time tonight,

yes.

I was indeed AWOL.

I was living in Vermont

with Dave Rothschild.

It was a wonderful period

of exploration in my life.

Dave and I would go

on long walks in the woods,

write poetry

to each other.

I'd express my fear

of going to the Vietnam War

and Dave would validate

those fears.

Ours was a relationship

of trust

and male spirit.

Although it was never sexual,

we weren't afraid

to cry in each other's arms,

or give each other

western-grip hand jobs.

See, that's a normal

hand job right here.

This is western-grip

right here.

You getting that all the way

up at the top there?

Can you see that?

The thumb remains

unencumbered

for exploring.

Diego Luna.

Dave Rothschild

and his massive 6'6" frame

and long, jet-black hair

was my salvation.

There you have it.

That's my big secret.

By the way, none of this

leaves the theater, okay?

I could get kicked out of the

Skull and Bones forever.

So after my time in Vermont

with Dave Rothschild,

here's what happened.

I met my wife Laura.

We had twins.

I ran for Congress.

I lost.

I started an energy

exploration company.

It went bankrupt.

But I sold all my stock

right before that happened,

which some people

said was illegal.

Then my dad became

president and guess what?

Criminal investigation

of my stock sale

just went away.

Ha ha!

By then, I owned part

of the Texas Rangers.

I then sold my part,

got a nifty $15 million return

on my initial

$800,000 investment.

I then became

governor of Texas.

I'm the first governor

in Texas state history

to be elected

to two consecutive terms.

As governor,

my highlights included

reinstating a bill

that allowed for citizens

to carry

concealed weapons

into churches,

nursing homes,

and amusement parks.

There are more executions

in my state

than any other state

in the union.

And on June 10th, 2000,

I proclaimed it

to be Jesus Day in Texas.

Now how many other

states had a Jesus day?

I'll tell you.

None.

♪ Satan is real ♪

♪ Working in spirit ♪

♪ He can tempt you

and lead you astray ♪

We are applying

the Bush doctrine.

Any statement

I did or did not make

or would or would not make...

Senator, welcome to our...

I don't have any recollection

or awareness of that.

Is there anything of yours that we

could keep as a memento of this visit?

Take California.

Fear...

The decisive leadership

of President

George W. Bush.

I love it out here

on our ranch in Crawford.

The rich smell

of sage and mesquite

fills up your lungs

when you wake up in the morning.

Sometimes it fills up

your lungs so much

you start to feel nauseous,

and you get

splitting headaches

and you realize it's not

the mesquite you're inhaling,

but exhaust fumes from the leaf

blower that you've had on your back

that you left running

for over an hour.

This is my sanctuary.

Working the land.

Repairing fences.

Stacking rocks.

I know every little

trail out here.

Ow.

Every little arroyo in

this sliver of God's country.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

I'm trying to track

a wild sage hen.

Ah, fuck,

it's not working.

Like I was saying, I know this

land like the back of my hand.

And heck, I should.

I established a record

for most vacation days

taken by a president.

40%... yeah.

40% of my time in office

was spent at one presidential

retreat or another.

I'm proud of that record.

During that time,

I watched "Carlito's Way"

over 800 times.

Mmm.

It's true.

This ranch means

so much to me and Laura.

Nothing's more American

or therapeutic

in my opinion

than obsessively

clearing brush.

Oh hell,

who are we kidding?

We're hoping

to sell this place by June.

Karl Rove made me buy it

back in '99 to seem

more folksy.

But can I be honest with you? I don't

know what the fuck I'm doing out here.

I almost got lockjaw

three different times

from cutting myself

on rusted barbwire.

It's a hot, dusty,

heatstroke-inducing

hellhole out here.

We're so excited

now that we're moved into our

whites-only community in Dallas

where I can

pay immigrants

to clear my brush

for me...

the way God intended.

Here's the other thing

that used to piss me off.

None of the families would

ever come visit us out here.

I'd be like,

"Hey, Mom,

Dad, Jeb, why don't we have

Thanksgiving at Crawford this year?"

"Oh, we'd love to, but...

Kennebunkport.

It's a tradition."

"Oh really?

"Well, Maine can

blow me, okay?

"While you guys are sitting

around opening Christmas presents

"under a beautiful blanket

of New England snowfall,

"I can't even go outside

'cause it's 119 degrees."

One time I did convince

all the families

to come here

at Easter.

I took all the Bush men...

Dad, Jeb,

Neil, Marvin,

on a tour of an old

abandoned mineshaft

I found on the outskirts

of the ranch.

It was fun.

All the Bush guys

reminiscing,

clowning around

in an old abandoned mineshaft,

when wouldn't you know it?

It collapsed on us.

We'd be trapped

for three days

and the whole while

my dad's up my ass,

saying things like,

"God damn it, George,

did you test the shaft

to see if it was safe?"

I'm like, "No, of course not.

"It's just an

abandoned mineshaft.

"You just go climb

around in it.

"Besides, I thought

you'd like it

'cause it's historical."

Jeb's like, "Everyone shut up.

We gotta conserve oxygen."

I'm like,

"I don't give a shit.

"God's got a plan for me.

If this is the way I go,

then this is the way I go."

Then my dad's like,

"Gimme a fuckin' break!

Did you tell anyone

where we were going?"

I'm like, "No, I didn't!

I only thought

we'd be gone an hour."

He's like,

"You gotta be kidding me."

All of a sudden Marvin

started screaming,

"I crushed my maid

with a car!"

And then Neil started yelling,

"I once had sex with

30 Thai hookers at once!"

Jeb's like, "I'm being serious.

Let's conserve oxygen."

I'm like, "Enough with

the damn oxygen!"

Then my dad's like, "Why are you

the only one in this family

"that speaks with

a Texas accent?

It makes no sense!"

I'm like, "Do I?

Do I have an accent?

'Cause if I do,

I can't hear it."

And just then as my dad

was about to lunge for my neck,

we heard some rocks moving.

Outside was my mom,

all ripped and muscular,

throwing boulders away from

the opening of the mineshaft.

She then pulled us out

one by one

and placed us on a cart

and then pulled the cart

like a powerful draft horse.

All the way back home

her deltoids twitching,

her loins covered

in a milky white froth.

It was one of the most gross

and impressive things

I'd ever seen.

I was crying and barfing

all at the same time.

You know what they say?

Whatever doesn't kill you

just makes you stronger.

Sometimes, however,

the thing that

almost killed you

probably just

should've killed you.

You know...

you just feel more scared

as a result.

Anyway...

They'll be here at the Crawford

Ranch in November of 2000

when we wait

for the election returns

of my first

presidential campaign.

I remember that night

was extremely frustrating

partly because the information

kept changing all the time

and partly because there was

literally nothing

to watch on TV.

Except stupid

election coverage.

You know?

Not even a break to watch

"Dog the Bounty Hunter."

Nothing.

There was so much back and

forth, it made my head spin.

First exit polling

in the liberal news media

was saying that Gore

had won Florida.

Then they said

it went back to undecided.

Then they said

that I had won

and Gore is calling me

to congratulate me.

"Guess what, Al?

I'm gonna celebrate

"by shooting off these M80s

I got on my last trip

to Juarez."

He's like,

"I beg your pardon?"

I'm like, "Nerd,"

and hung up the phone.

Then they said,

"Hold on, hold on.

Don't shoot off the M80s yet,"

which I'd already taped

to a "Hellboy" action figure.

Now it's within 2,000 votes.

I'm like, "Well, hell,

I'm going to bed.

It's 4:00 in the morning."

Then they said,

"Gore's calling again."

I'm like, "What's his deal?"

He said this time

he's calling

to take back

his concession

'cause it's too

close to call.

They're doing

a statewide recall.

I'm like,

"You can't take it back."

He's like, "Yes, I can."

I'm like, "No, you can't."

He's like, "Says who?"

I paused

and I thought real hard.

Then I said, "The Geneva

Convention, that's who,"

and I hung up

the phone again.

Turns out I was wrong.

The Geneva Convention

pertains more to the laws

that will govern the moon

once it's colonized.

But, uh...

it sure felt good

in the moment.

So for one month,

all this BS goes on

back and forth.

Then all of a sudden

it stopped.

December 12, 2000.

United States Supreme Court

ruled 7-2

that the Florida

Supreme Court's plan

to recount the ballots

was unconstitutional,

as well as a 5-4 decision

that ended the recount.

And allowed Florida

to certify its vote.

I was...

I was down

in the basement

playing with

baseball cards

when Rove

gave me the news.

He said,

"Excuse me, Mr. President,

but we're going

to Washington."

I paused, wondering

who he was talking to.

Then for a moment,

I contemplated the odds

of President Clinton

somehow sneaking

into my basement...

and hiding behind me.

Slowly I turned around

to make sure

that wasn't who

Rove was talking to.

Then all of a sudden,

it hit home.

He was talking to me.

"You're talking to me,

aren't you?"

"I sure am," Rove said.

"Holy shit.

We're going to Washington."

Rove just smiled

and we exchanged an awkward

white-guy high five.

This was the big time!

♪ You had to be

a big shot, didn't you? ♪

♪ You had to prove it

to the crowd ♪

♪ You had to be

a big shot, didn't you? ♪

Things are going pretty well.

W-What, what, what?

What, what?

W-W-W-W... What, what?

In the war on terror,

we will always

seek cooperation

from our allies

around the world.

Enhanced interrogation

techniques.

Yeah.

All right.

Yo. Yo, yo, yo!

Yo, yo!

MC Folke!

M-M-M-MC Folke!

Ladies and gentlemen,

please rise

for the 43rd president

of the United States

of America,

George W. Bush.

Thanks for your support.

Tell your dad I say hi.

Too slow.

How's your wife doing?

She good?

Oh my God,

I didn't even see you there.

Did you lose weight?

No?

You need to.

So I got the job, cool.

Didn't expect

to get it in a way,

and if I'm being

totally truthful,

I remember sitting here,

thinking,

"Shit, I actually

have to do this now."

Here's the thing,

no one tells you

when you become president,

you hit the ground running.

And I mean, hauling ass.

Mr. President, did you have

a chance to look at the PDP?

Mr. President, you have

a 10:00 with the NSA.

Can you meet with the Joint

Chiefs at some point?

DOD needs to get you

to sign off on this.

Hi, Mr. President. Bob Galligan

from Halliburton. Hi, Bob.

Ken Lay from Enron is waiting

for you, Mr. President.

Mr. President, the CIA is

certain that Freddy Krueger

is a fictional character

and poses no threat.

- EPA. NORAD.

- DOW CHEMICALS.

Health and Human Services.

His excellency...

Patriot Act.

Diego Luna.

WHO.

WTC.

UN Security Council.

CIA. FDA.

GEO. IFC.

PBS.

No Child Left Behind.

OSHA. INS. NLG.

FBI.

You see how annoying

that can be?

Especially when you have

no idea of what you're doing?

But in my defense,

who in their right mind

would have any idea

what the job

of being president entails?

Would you?

I would! Would you? Oh,

you're full of shit.

You know what, Jerry?

Kick this guy out.

You've been up my...

you son of a bitch!

Screw you, motherfucker!

Hey, fuck you, asshole!

I was the leader of the

free world, dipshit!

You got to accept that.

I'm a guy you wanted

to have a beer with.

You cocksucker!

Fuck you.

Hey, fuck you!

Fuck you!

Hey, I want my 401k back!

I want my 401k back.

I lost like 1,000 bucks!

Take him out there

and waterboard him, Jerry!

And don't tell me

it's torture.

I've had it done.

I find it relaxing.

It's a spa treatment

at Bliss!

Look it up.

No shit, Sherlock.

This guy right here.

I have the launch codes.

This phone.

If it rang,

and believe me, no president

wants it to ring,

I had to pick it up,

make the call,

whether or not it was go time.

7,982 deployed warheads

ready to go

if I said so.

No holds barred.

Let the big dogs hunt.

Take no prisoners.

Every dog has his day.

Our child is an honor student.

If this van's a-rockin',

don't come a-knockin'.

Anyways...

you get the idea.

Luckily, this phone's a prop.

But that's a scenario

no president ever wants

to have to deal with.

Right here?

This is the phone

that I used.

I got every important

world leader

and their secret telephone

numbers on this baby.

Actually, this is

a replacement phone.

I dropped the original one

in a toilet at

the Beijing Olympics, and...

believe me, it was unusable.

I got all the leaders

of the G8 on here.

Stephen Harper

from Canada.

Nicolas Sarkozy.

France.

Angela Merkel.

German chancellor.

She holds all her tension

in her neck.

Silvio Berlusconi.

Italy.

Yeah. Great guy. I

call him "Shoes"

'cause he wears very fine

expensive Italian leather shoes.

Yasuo Fukuda.

Japan.

First three times I met him,

I thought he was Daisuke

from the Red Sox.

Turns out I was wrong.

These are just coming off

the top of my head.

Dmitry Medvedev.

Russia.

Gordon Brown.

Great Britain.

One of our

staunchest allies.

José Luis Zapatero.

From Spain.

Except they say it

with a lisp.

José Luis Zapatero.

From Barcelona.

"Vicky Cristina Barcelona."

"Let's go get sangria...

"and tapas...

"and go see

'Vicky Cristina Barcelona.'

Oh my God,

this sangria is so delicious."

"I know, I love it.

It keeps you light

on your feet."

"Excuse me, I was eavesdropping

on your conversation.

Were you talking about

'Vicky Cristina Barcelona'?"

"Yes, we were.

Did you like it?"

"I loved it.

I love Penélope Cruz."

Can I be honest with you?

I'm addicted to talking that way.

It's fun.

Yeah.

You'll probably be doing it

on the car ride home.

Maybe not.

I don't know.

I'm not a mind reader.

List goes on and on, man.

You know, I miss my phone.

I miss a lot of things

about being president.

But mostly, I, uh...

I miss the people,

the fine men and women

that I served with.

My Cabinet.

My road dawgs.

My posse.

In some ways,

I thought were

just getting started.

♪ We've only just begun... ♪

It all began with my VP.

Dick Cheney.

Some say the most

powerful president...

I mean, vice president,

in US history.

A guy so charismatic,

he could shoot a man

in the face with a shotgun...

and have that guy

apologize to him.

Think about that.

That's some real Clint Eastwood

shit right there, you know?

Yes, one time,

I did walk in on Dick Cheney

down in the basement

of the White House

and he was being fucked

by a giant goat devil...

in a room full of pentagrams.

He looked up at me with solid

silver glowing orb-like eyes

and his breath had a strong

ammonia scent to it.

And he told me in a language

that I knew in my heart

had not been spoken

in over a thousand years...

I just ran. I just got

the hell out of there.

Other than that,

he's a real stand-up guy.

Rummy!

Oh my God, I love this guy!

Funny?

You don't even know!

I remember

the day after 9/11,

he said, "Let's bomb Iraq 'cause

they got all the good targets."

Isn't that funny?

Secretary of State

Colin Powell.

Tried to tell us

Iraq was a bad idea.

Tried to tell us suspension

of habeas corpus was a bad idea.

Said to me,

"You break it, you own it."

Then he still went along

with us, God love him.

I don't know

who that guy is.

I don't know who

that guy is.

White House

Chief of Staff Andy Card.

A guy so dedicated,

his wife once asked him,

"Hey, are you married to me,

or George W. Bush?"

I always got

a kick out of that

'cause he was not

married to me,

nor was that

ever even discussed.

Secretary of Treasury

Paul O'Neill.

He called my economic

policies irresponsible.

Said I was unquestioning

and uncurious.

Paul didn't last long.

Attorney General

John Ashcroft.

He lost to a dead guy

in the 2000 Missouri

Senate race.

So we thought,

"He's free. Let's bring him on."

Mi hermano Alberto Gonzales.

Oh my God,

this guy's so going to jail.

Gale Norton.

Secretary of the Interior.

Mining advocate.

Elaine Chao.

Secretary of Labor.

My little Asian spitfire.

Tommy Thompson. Secretary of

Health and Human Services.

Great Gin player

and has funny jokes

about Jews.

Wolfy,

the man with the plan!

John Bolton.

Nice mustache!

Richard Perle.

His fondest dream is to

one day become a woman.

That's my penis.

That shouldn't be in there.

And there he is...

The Architect.

Karl Rove.

Or as I used to call him,

Turd Blossom.

What can you say

about this guy?

Swiftboat?

Outing CIA agents?

Avoiding subpoenas?

Mark Fuller, Jack

Abramoff, Jeff Gannon,

rigging elections, privatization

of Social Security,

you name it.

This guy's a genius.

I miss my Cabinet.

They're a great group of folks,

and I think you could tell

from their pictures

they were just fun

to hang out with.

Especially little Richie Perle.

Can we throw his picture

back up there?

Look at that little cuddle bear.

You tickle him

underneath that jowl,

he'll laugh like a hyena

for an hour.

I just wanted to put him

in a big man-sized diaper

and carry him around

in a BabyBjorn...

and feed him Cheerios

and tickle his jowl.

"Come on, Richie.

"Let's get you down

for your nap.

"Oh, you want more Cheerios?

Here you go.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle.

Bye, Richie.

Bye."

You know,

there's one gal, I, uh...

I left off the list,

'cause it's still

too painful to bring up.

I thought I'd be

over her by now, but I'm not.

We used to sit around and talk

about our hopes and our dreams.

She's the only one I'd stay up

past 10:00 at night to talk to.

Don't get me wrong.

I love my wife,

but this one was special.

What we had

was something animal.

Something crazy.

Something raw.

♪ I keep forgettin'

we're not in love any more ♪

♪ I keep forgettin' things

will never be the same again ♪

♪ I keep forgettin'

how you made that so clear ♪

♪ I keep forgettin' it all ♪

♪ Every time I hear ♪

♪ How you never

want to live a lie ♪

♪ How it's gone too far ♪

♪ And you don't have

to tell me why ♪

♪ Why you're gone ♪

♪ And why the game

is through ♪

♪ If this is what's real ♪

♪ If this is what's true ♪

♪ Tell me how come ♪

♪ I keep forgettin'

we're not in love any more ♪

♪ Baby ♪

♪ I keep forgettin' things

will never be the same again ♪

♪ I keep forgettin'

how you made that so clear ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, baby ♪

♪ Don't say that, don't say

that, don't say that ♪

♪ I know you're not mine

anymore ♪

♪ Anyway, anytime ♪

♪ Tell me how come ♪

♪ I keep forgettin'

we're not in love anymore ♪

♪ How come? ♪

♪ I keep forgettin' things

will never be the same again ♪

♪ I keep forgettin'

how you made that so clear ♪

♪ I keep forgetting... ♪

Condi was my rock.

I miss her dearly.

My little San Francisco treat.

My little Rice-a-roni.

Mmn.

You know, one of my legacies

as president I'm most proud of

is my great love of reading.

There's a pretty good chance I'm probably

gonna be known as the Reading President

or the Great Reader.

I think I've shown

over the last eight years

I love reading

many different things,

from Camus

to Danielle Steele,

to a book I've read

no less than 200 times...

"He's Just Not

That Into You."

That really helped me with

my relationship with Putin.

Right here is probably

the book I'll be most known for.

Within it is the story

of "The Pet Goat."

"The Pet Goat" is the story of a girl's pet

goat that eats everything in its path.

The girl's parents want

to give the goat away,

but she defends it.

Ultimately, the goat

becomes a hero

when it butts a car robber

into submission.

A mere eight months into my

presidency on September 11th,

I'm interrupted

from reading

one of the more

fascinating stories

I've ever come across

with news that the world

as we know it has gone cuckoo.

So stunned was I

by the news of the day's events,

combined with the power

of the narrative

found in "The Pet Goat"

that I just sat there

in silence

for over seven minutes.

♪ The way you shake it ♪

♪ I can't believe it ♪

♪ I ain't never seen an

ass like that ♪

♪ The way you move it ♪

♪ You make my peepee go ♪

♪ Da-doing-doing-doing ♪

♪ I don't believe it ♪

♪ It's almost too good

to be true ♪

♪ I ain't never seen

an ass like that ♪

♪ The way you move it ♪

♪ You make my peepee go ♪

♪ Da-doing-doing-doing ♪

♪ The way she moves,

she's like a belly dancer ♪

♪ Shaking that ass

to the new Nelly jams ♪

♪ I think someone's at the door,

but I don't think I'ma answer ♪

♪ Police saying, "Freeze!" ♪

♪ Oh! ♪

♪ Da-doing-doing-doing ♪

♪ What do you mean "freeze"? Please,

I'm a human being I have needs ♪

♪ I'm not done, not till

I've finished peeing ♪

♪ I am not resisting arrest,

I am agreeing, Mr. Officer ♪

♪ I'm already on my knees,

I can't get on the ground ♪

This is by far one of my

favorite pieces of clothing.

I'll never forget the look

on Tony Blair's face

when I met him for the

first time at Camp David.

I walked into the room

wearing this kickass

custom made

leather bomber's jacket.

He was wearing

some dumb sweater.

I just looked at him. I said,

"How do you like me now?"

He said,

"I beg your pardon?"

You know,

all Britishy and shit.

We just stood there

looking at each other.

In silence.

For a long time,

I might add.

I can remember thinking,

"I'm not talking first.

"He's gonna have to talk first.

"This is my house.

This is my Camp David."

Finally, he said,

"Well, Mr. President,

it is an honor

to be your guest,"

and I just yelled,

"I win."

I remember the first time

I sat down with Tony Blair

to discuss what

we had in common

and it was awkward at first.

Then I thought I'd break

the ice by saying,

"At least we both

speak English."

And...

and Tony laughed.

But I laughed

much harder.

That was

the turning point.

That was the ice breaker

where I thought,

"Hey, I can trust

this turkey.

He's my amigo."

Believe me, I quickly found out

I would need his counsel.

As you all know,

the events of 9/11

would throw the nation

into a tizzy.

As I sat alone

with my thoughts

in my private chambers,

much like the Batman,

I can

remember thinking

that the nation

needed a leader

who could make important

decisions and make them quickly.

It was then

that I became...

The Decider.

I pictured myself

as a super advanced robot

named Decision-Maker 2230k.

Yes, for one-half of

an entire Cabinet meeting,

I did speak

with a robot voice.

Good afternoon.

I am Decision Maker 2230k.

Do not fear me.

I make decisions

with great alacrity.

Also, I have lasers

that shoot out of my eyeballs.

My stomach is

a microwave oven.

Right now, I'm cooking up

some Jeno's Pizza Rolls.

Oh my God,

they smell delicious.

Then everything went dark.

I awoke on the floor

of the Cabinet Room

with an ice pack

taped to my head.

Turns out Cheney had shot me

with a tranquilizer gun.

I would be unconscious

for three-and-a-half hours,

but when I came to,

I was informed that we had

a very productive meeting.

We had gleaned

from exhaustive intelligence,

massive man hours on the ground

and in the skies above

that Al-Qaeda was the source

of these 9/11 attacks.

We also gained knowledge

from the previous

administration's

counter-terrorism expert,

Richard Clarke,

who had told us

point-blank

a month before it happened

that it would probably happen,

and that Al-Qaeda would do it.

So that was helpful too.

Then we started

looking for evidence

linking Al-Qaeda to Iraq,

and we kept looking

and looking,

and looking.

The CIA looked back 10 years in

their records and found nothing.

Cheney thought he'd help out

by setting up his own

intelligence agency

in a broom closet

at the Pentagon.

Then bingo, we found it.

Evidence from one witness

no one had ever heard of before

without any other backup

that Iraq was trying to get

yellow-cake uranium

through the country of... and I always

have trouble with this pronunciation...

Ni... "Ni-gard."

"Ni-jer."

"Ni-jere."

Whoo!

I tell you right now,

you mispronounce that one,

you find yourself

in a world of trouble.

You know what I mean?

Yeah.

You do not want

to be that guy, trust me.

So...

I mean, you don't.

I'm not just saying that.

Yeah.

I'm giving you advice

right now.

So when I first

heard "yellow cake,"

I was like, "Yum! Whose

birthday is it?"

Then everybody switched

to their serious voices

and started yelling,

"Yellow-cake uranium, damn it!

"Please listen!

"For once, just listen.

"That's all you have to do,

is sit there and listen!

"We do all the work!

"You don't have to do anything

but sit there and listen.

That's all you have to do."

Which, by that point,

I'd stopped listening again.

'Cause I had a mean game of

Brick Breaker going on my Treo.

So...

just to refresh...

yellow-cake uranium

goes through "Nigger"

to Iraq,

and here's the best part...

here's the best part.

Hold on, here's the best part.

Here's how we get the story out

to the American public.

A quote-unquote

anonymous White House source,

basically us,

Cheney, Rummy, Condi, whoever.

We speak to all

the major media outlets,

like "The New York

Suck-My-Dick Times."

Then Judy Miller and J-bomb

would write up the story

and the same people

who planted the story

Cheney, Rummy, Condi, etcetera,

would go on all the news shows

like "Meet the Press,"

"This Week in Washington,"

"The View,"

and hold up the story

that they planted

and say, "Wow,

look what 'The Times' says."

Pretty good plan, huh?

Yeah.

Slowly,

our case was made.

Except there was

one last hitch.

Most of the world...

thought we were crazy.

Especially France.

You know what? Who gives

a shit about France?

Right?

France is a bunch of pussies

and dick-grabbers.

What's so great

about France?

How many people have ever

even been to France?

See?

No one.

If you recall, we played

some real diplomatic hardball

with the French.

This is what we did.

In the cafeteria at Congress...

we renamed French Fries

"Freedom Fries."

Oh, burn!

When I heard that, I thought it was one

of the coolest things I'd ever heard.

I tried to get French

kissing renamed

to We-Saved-Your-Asses-

in-World-War-II kissing.

It didn't catch on.

You know what's funny?

Turns out

none of it mattered.

Despite concerns

of our NATO allies,

despite anti-war protests

in every major city

in America

including one million people

here in New York,

on March 20th, 2003,

Operation Iraqi Freedom

was launched.

By April 9th,

it was done.

People tore down a massive

statue of Saddam Hussein

ending his 24-year rule

of that country.

People were dancing

in the streets.

We were dancing

in the Oval Office.

I was King Shit

of Turd Mountain.

♪ It's my life ♪

♪ It's now or never ♪

♪ I ain't gonna

live forever ♪

♪ Don't be fronting

with the bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Don't be fronting

with the bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Don't be fronting

with the bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Bass phenomenon,

bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Don't be fronting

with the bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Bass phenomenon, bass

phenomenon, bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Don't be fronting

with the bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Don't be fronting

with the bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Don't be fronting

with the bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Bass phenomenon,

bass phenomenon ♪

♪ Don't be fronting with

the bass phenom... ♪

Remember this outfit?

Remember this moment?

Landing on a carrier

in a jet fighter plane?

"Highway to the Danger Zone"

playing in my helmet.

Setting foot on the deck

of the USS Abraham Lincoln

to announce that major

combat operations in Iraq

were over.

It truly was...

"mission accomplished."

Even though...

Ow.

Even though...

98.3% of all casualties

including civilians

have occurred after

that speech was made.

Those in the media

criticized it

as a theatrical

and expensive stunt.

We tried to explain

how I had to fly on a jet

'cause the carrier was too far

away for a helicopter to fly.

Then somebody pointed out

that the carrier

was only 30 miles

off the coast of San Diego.

We said, "Oh, that's

much closer than we thought."

So that day

and this banner

became a symbol

to a lot of people

that we were out of touch

with the war

and what was going on

in Iraq...

and I respectfully disagree.

I mean, sure some things

didn't go as planned,

like the absence of a plan

for anything

once we were

inside the country.

Oops.

We also didn't know that the guy

we'd place in power over there,

"Achmed" Chalibi,

would turn out to be

a total douchebag.

Maybe Paul Bremer's

disbanding the army

and all law enforcement

was a bad idea.

Maybe only having

162,000 troops

when our generals said we

needed 400,000 was a bad idea.

I do know this.

Removing Saddam Hussein

from power

was the right decision

early in my presidency,

it is the right

decision now,

and it will be

the right decision ever.

We were also able

to unite the world

in an outstanding

coalition of the willing.

Great nations with

rich military traditions

like Poland...

Honduras...

El Salvador...

Denmark...

and Azar Bazhan.

Brave, brave countries

like Palau,

Costa Rica,

and the Solomon Islands,

who joined the coalition

without any regard

for the fact that they

don't even have an army.

That alone put a lump

in my throat.

Then of course,

there was Morocco

who pledged to send

2,000 trained monkeys

to detonate land mines

and perform

at children's parties.

Then there seemed to be questions

whether or not Morocco had the monkeys,

and I said, "Regardless of

whether they have them or not,

that sounds cool as shit

and I want that."

A special unit

of 2,000 trained monkeys

that we could send

anywhere in the world

to fight evil

and make children laugh?

Duh!

Despite vigorous protests

from my Cabinet,

I put into motion Operation

Primate Speargun.

For one year,

a special unit

of 2,000 wild monkeys

trained side by side

with the 82nd Airborne

down at Fort Bragg

in total secrecy.

In order to ensure

a maximum covert operation,

most of the training

was done at night.

I was heavily invested

in the unit.

I'd often fly down

to participate

in field exercises.

One of the things I noticed

during the exercises

was that many of the monkeys would

just simply run off into the woods...

randomly shooting

their spearguns

at each other

or inanimate objects.

And...

So I asked my field commanders,

I said, "How often

had this been happening?"

They said that

this type of thing

had happened

every single time.

So then I asked

a tough question.

"Why do you think

it's happening?"

The major said

that his guess

was because they were

wild monkeys...

and that they as soldiers

didn't have

the proper training

to work with them.

So I looked at him

right in the eye and said,

"But we're gonna

get there, right?"

He said,

"I doubt it, sir."

I said, "Well, hold on,

let me ask you this...

Are they at least

entertaining the children?"

He said he'd have

no idea of knowing,

but that his guess

would be no...

considering it was

a top-secret operation

and no one knew

the monkeys were there.

Especially the children.

At the end of exercises,

all but 40 monkeys

had run off into

the North Carolina woods.

Speargun attacks along

the I-95 corridor

have increased 1,000%

in that time.

So...

let me just tell you this...

if you're planning a car trip

down to Disney World,

don't stop

at the rest stops, okay?

'Cause there's a 50/50 chance

a malnourished monkey's

gonna pop up out of a toilet

and shoot you in the face

with a spear gun.

You know what?

I could give a shit.

It's the Tiger Woods

guy's problem now.

True story.

I still think

under the right circumstances,

it would've worked.

I will...

I will always

think of myself

as a wartime president.

And yes, I am aware

of the criticisms

that have been

thrown my way

for my decision to go into Iraq.

It will...

It will ultimately

define my presidency.

I've been asked,

knowing what

we know now,

would we have...

would we have made

the same decisions,

the same...

the same choices?

Sure, we would've

adjusted a few things.

But in the choice

between freedom

and tyranny,

we must always choose freedom.

Has the war weighed

heavily on me?

Sure it has.

I think about it every day.

Do I cry about it?

Yeah, without a doubt.

I cry a lot.

I feel for the families

who've lost loved ones.

I cry for the parents

who've lost

a son or daughter.

I cry for the kids who'll never

get to know their mom or dad.

I also feel

for the hundreds of thousands

of Iraqi civilians

who've lost their lives.

A lot of this crying

is done alone.

'Cause I'm the one

who made the call

and I must live with that.

So at this moment in time,

I'd like to honor

all those who've died

as a result of this war

with a moment of silence.

Hello?

Huh?

No, we're not

taking reservations.

No, I don't know where

"Annie Get Your Gun's" playing.

What?

Yeah, I love Tom Wopat too.

Oh my god, that scared

the shit out of me.

For a tenth of a second,

I thought that was God calling.

Or worse, my dad.

I swear to god, I think I had a

heart attack in my butthole.

Is that medically possible?

Does anyone know?

Is there a doctor

in the house?

Jerry, I think that spleef

you gave me was laced.

Ow, yeah,

it's in my upper butthole.

Cort Theater.

How can I help you?

Hey, Brownie!

It's former head of FEMA Mike Brownie.

Wanna say anything?

They love you here, man.

What's up?

How're you doing, Brownie?

How's your wife Cathy?

She still got big tits?

I'm just kidding, Brownie.

Relax, man.

Hey, do you remember when you were

Judges and Stewards Commissioner

of the International

Arabian Horse Association?

Yeah, why'd we ever think

that'd be proper training

for you to head up FEMA?

I know, it literally

makes no sense.

When I think back

to your appointment,

it shows

a blatant disregard

for the agency

and its function.

Then wouldn't you know it,

we get hit with the greatest

natural disaster in US history.

You still have

nightmares about it?

I'll bet you do.

Oh, Brownie.

Hey, do you remember when I

finally got on the ground

and it wasn't even

New Orleans?

That's right.

It was Mobile, Alabama.

I said, "Brownie, you're doing

a heck of a job"?

It's so funny 'cause you were

not doing a heck of a job.

That's right, you were doing the

opposite of a heck of a job.

Oh, Brownie.

Do you remember

on national television

when Kanye West said

that I hated black people?

I know, I don't hate

black people.

I never even

think about them.

Not in my day to day.

By the way,

how's New Orleans doing?

Uh-huh?

A lot of it still hasn't

been rebuilt?

It's funny. You would've thought

that after my initial mess-up

that I would've dedicated

more of my second term

to just checking in

on New Orleans.

I know, but I didn't.

You hit the nail

on the head, Brownie.

Americans do have

a short attention span.

No, it's great 'cause you can just

half-ass shit and it doesn't matter.

Oh, Brownie.

I could talk to you

all night long.

Have you been watching

"Dancing With the Stars"?

Yeah. No, my money's

on Lil Kim.

Do you know how

to say it in Spanish?

Yeah.

Lil Kim in Spanish?

No, I don't know.

Probably "Kimalito", maybe.

I don't know.

Yeah.

No, go ahead. Yeah, Google it.

I can wait.

You got to reboot your computer?

Okay, man.

Oh, "0 searches found"?

Well, I guess that'll be

a mystery for the ages.

Yeah.

Really?

And you're doing...

Yeah? Uh-huh.

Okay.

Oh, so you're just

growing a mustache?

Well, it sounded

a lot more complicated

the way you were

describing it. Yeah.

Don't yell at me.

No, you called me.

Oh, you got to run?

All right, man.

Okay, take it easy.

Hey, Brownie? Good luck with your

bed sweats and your night terrors.

All right, buddy.

Take care.

You people probably won't even

remember that phone call.

Please hang up now.

This is a recording.

Hey, hey!

What the fuck's going on, man?

What are you doing, Jerry?

I leave for like four seconds, you turn

the whole place into "Electric Boogaloo"?

You will talk to me.

I'm gonna wear you down

like an irritating gnat.

I'll give you $20,000 if you

bones it out with me right now.

Smart man. I was not gonna

give him the $20,000.

You know, one of my great

qualities as president,

and heck, as a human being

is my ability to give out

clever nicknames

to all those that I

come in contact with.

So...

so at this moment in time, we're

gonna bring the house lights up.

I want you

to raise your hand,

tell me your name

and you're occupation,

I'll give you

a cool nickname.

Yeah, that guy

on the balcony right there.

The glasses.

Rick?

You're a journalist?

Uh, I'm gonna call you...

who's the guy from

"The Washington Post"

that did the book on me?

Are you really

a journalist?

Most of the time.

Most of the time?

I'm gonna call you The Liar.

This lady right here.

Yeah. Right there.

Yeah.

Jenay?

You're a student?

Are you in college?

I'm gonna call you

Good Luck With the Job Market.

Yeah, this girl right here.

Your name is Cognac?

Anya.

Oh, Anya. Phew.

I was about to say that's one of

the coolest names of all time.

"This is Cognac.

What's up?"

Anya.

What do you do?

I'm a tennis coach.

You're a tennis coach?

I'm gonna call you

Martina Navratilova.

Yeah, this guy right here.

Thomas Jones,

orthopedic surgeon.

Thomas Jones.

"Orthapedis" surgeon.

Orthopedic surgeon?

Uh, I'm gonna call you

The Scorpion.

Yeah, this guy

right here.

Alexander?

You own an iced tea company?

I'm gonna call you

Nestea Plunge.

Yeah, right here.

Bruce, you look like a member

of the Doobie Brothers.

You remember

the Doobie Brothers?

I'm gonna call you

China Grove.

Yeah, this guy

right down here.

I'm a gastroenterologist.

You're a gastroenterologist?

I'm gonna call

you The Fiber Man.

Yeah, this lady right here.

Savannah.

Savannah?

And what do you do?

I'm a Shakespeare scholar.

You're a Shakespeare scholar?

I'm gonna call you Scholar

of Unnecessary Subjects.

I'm not trying

to be mean or anything,

but seriously.

How often do we hear

Shakespeare in our lives?

It's all a bunch of gobbledy-gook.

Yeah?

This distinguished-looking

gentleman right here.

Jerry.

You're a theater ticket broker?

I'm gonna

call you The Ascot.

Yeah, this guy

right in the front row.

I'm Jason.

I'm a software engineer.

Software engineer?

I'll call you Nerd Alert.

That guy in the glasses

right there.

Blake Pearson. I'm a writer, but

not for "The New York Times."

You're a writer?

What do you write?

Comic books or something?

So what do you write?

Screenplays.

Screenplays?

I'm gonna call you

Hurry Up and Wait.

Yeah, this lady right back here.

My name is Ola.

Hola?

Hola to you, Hola.

Yeah, that guy right here

in the cool hairdo.

You got a lot of mousse

in your hair tonight, man.

Looks good.

Yeah, that's a good-looking

beard too.

I'm gonna call you

Jacques Cousteau.

Yeah, right here.

This lady.

Lisa.

Lisa?

I'm a real estate

investor.

I'm gonna call you

Shit Outta Luck, Lisa.

I think that went really well.

That went really well, yeah.

Yeah, yeah.

And Lisa,

footnote to that...

it's not my fault. Okay?

I think we came up with some

really cool nicknames, yeah...

that'll...

that'll hopefully

last a lifetime.

Nerd Alert.

"Hey, where's Nerd Alert?

I'm supposed to

pick him up at 10:00."

"He's doing his software stuff."

It's like magic.

I wish being president

was that easy.

Yeah.

Eight years.

Eight whole years.

Went by in the blink of an eye.

Did we find Osama bin Laden?

No, we dropped the ball

on that one. I agree.

But did we get steroids

out of baseball?

You bet we did.

Sort of.

Did we make sure marriage

is a union

between a man and a woman?

In most places, yes,

even though I'd be lying to you

if I told you

I didn't enjoy my AWOL time

in Vermont with Dave Rothschild.

Were we able to ease

trade restrictions with China

to get their toxic

lead-based toys

and poisonous

breast formula?

Check mark.

We also tripled the deficit,

sanctioned torture,

and illegally

wiretapped Americans

months before 9/11.

But on the down side,

we did oversee the collapse of

the entire world economy, so...

masser menos.

Right, Hola?

So basically

it comes down to this...

am I the worst

president of all-time?

Hold on, hold on, hold on.

I didn't realize tonight

was amateur historian night.

Some say that it was

James Buchanan,

who in 1860, when faced

with secession,

did nothing.

Or was it Abraham Lincoln's

successor,

Andrew Johnson,

who openly sided

with former Confederates

to undermine

reconstruction efforts?

Warren G. Harding.

His administration

was openly corrupt.

What about Millard Fillmore?

His name was Millard Fillmore.

How did he grow up

past age six, you know?

Cognac would be

a better name for him.

What about Herbert Hoover? That

guy was a pretty good lameass.

Then there's Richard Nixon.

He bombed Cambodia

without telling anybody,

then escalated

the Vietnam War.

And then there's me.

I was able to get Congress

to do just about anything

I wanted them to do,

which technically,

isn't that the mark

of an effective president?

The bottom line is

can you go to bed at night

knowing the decisions

that you have made?

And I know that I can.

Partly because

I'm a really good sleeper.

I just like to sleep.

When I look in the mirror,

I like what I see.

So I feel pretty good.

I feel pretty good.

One last thing, since I know

I'm not gonna hear any thanks,

I just wanna say one last thing,

you're welcome, America.

♪ I followed you to Texas ♪

♪ I followed you to Utah ♪

♪ I went with you to Alabama ♪

♪ Things looked good

in Birmingham ♪

♪ I know you're tired

of following ♪

♪ My elusive dreams

and schemes ♪

♪ For they're only

fleeting things ♪

♪ My elusive dreams ♪

♪ So long, farewell

Auf Wiedersehen, adieu ♪

♪ Adieu, adieu

To you and you and you ♪

♪ So long, farewell

Au revoir, auf Wiedersehen ♪

Yeah, this guy right here.

Yeah.

Chris, teacher.

What do you teach, Chris?

High school special ed.

Special ed?

That's a good subject, man.

Yeah.

I'm gonna call you...

You know, I don't really have

a nickname for you,

but I remember some

of those classes.

Yeah, this guy

right here.

I sell decorative hardware

and bath accessories.

Decorative hardware

and bath accessories.

I'm gonna call you

Scrub-a-Dub-Dub

Three Men in a Tub.

Yeah, what's your name?

Andy?

And you're in seventh grade?

I'm gonna

call you Pubes.

Dave Rothschild?

Get up here, man.

Nice to see you, man.

You look good.

You look great.

Where have you been?

You stopped returning my calls

22 years ago, man.

All right, buddy.

You're Welcome America: A Final Night With George W. Bush (2009) - full transcript