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Yes, the W does stand for Waterloo. After his brass-nozzle hosing of Washington, D.C., George will sail to the windswept isle in the South Atlantic, where he will write memoirs, plan a coup d'etat, and carve Dubya University into the side of an extinct volcano. "It's pretty simple," he said. "Napoleon didn't write jack on his days on the rock. Why, he couldn't even speak English. I got Condi to take notes. She's a secretary. Enrollment is limited, due to lack of flat land for students to sit on. St. Helena is connected by submarine cable laid in 1899."
"It could get lonely," he said. "I might write a poem about my love for men and wimmen. The good ones...not the Euros or the Contraros. We defeated them both during my twin terms. And now we're bearing the fruitions.
"Hell," he said, "you might see me back. Dustin Hoffman swam off that Pig Island in Serpico.
What? Ok, they were both squirrelly little guys. Different movie. Whatever.
"And don't count out Cheney. He owes me. He's built up a lot of sweat equity over the years, and I plan to spend it getting off this son-of-a-beach. I looked in his eyes, and I could see his solar plexis. I could ride on his back if Turdblossom dog-paddles. I'm talking escape from Alcatraz. Oh, I've got out before. You can hide pretty good in the jacouzzi of a fighter jetter."
