Thursday, May 17, 2007

Scandal: Wolfowitz in the Bunker!

by William Prendergast

Oh, boy, it's getting surreal again. Now Wolfowitz won't go even if they throw him out:

Wolfowitz Hangs On As Ouster Hits Wall
Day-Long Standoff Ends Unresolved; Talks to Resume

By Peter S. Goodman
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, May 17, 2007; Page A01

The Bush administration spent much of yesterday trying to broker a graceful end to the ethics controversy consuming the World Bank, offering the resignation of embattled president Paul D. Wolfowitz, senior administration and bank officials said. But Wolfowitz said he would not leave, insisting on a measure of vindication.

On a day full of rumors, counter-rumors and closed-door meetings, the Wolfowitz saga turned into an only-in-Washington standoff...

Wolfowitz: Put that down! You leave that chair right where it is, or I’ll call security—

Mover: We *are* security, Mr. Wolfowitz. We gotta get your stuff outta this office today—

Wolfowitz: It’s not “this” office, it’s MY office! The office of the head of the World Bank (shakes his fountain pen at mover impressively), one of the most powerful men in the world, I can have people KILLED, how DARE you, you impertinent, low-rent—

Mover: (takes pen out of Wolfowitz’s hand, put it in drawer of desk he’s carrying out) Sorry, but we gotta work order, show him the work order, Abu.

(Abu hands Wolfowitz a work order.)

Wolfowitz:(reading aloud incredulously) “Get his shit out of that office, pronto, before the little dummy puts an even bigger media spotlight on us and our scams. Pronto, allez-vites, comprendo? P.S. I get his leather sofa and matching end tables—signed, the Board of the Directors.”

(Wolfowitz looks up in outrage, steam shoots out his ears. He tears up the work order and jumps up and down on it.)

Wolfowitz: Treacherous sons of bitches! There wouldn’t even be a world, if it wasn’t for me! (presses button on intercom) Miss Johnson! Get the Board of Directors in here, I’m calling an emergency meeting! Miss Johnson? Miss Johnson? What’s wrong with this thing it’s not working—

Mover: We already took out the intercom, Mr. Wolfowitz, that’s a cigar box you’re talking to. Here, put on your glasses, you’ll see. (Hands Wolfowitz his reading glasses, lets him take a peek at cigar box, then takes the reading glasses back, puts them in his pocket.) Can’t let you keep the glasses, either, Mr. Wolfowitz, they’re not on the World Bank health care plan. Hey, take this cigar box too, Abu. But wait a minute—you ever see this guy on the Sullivan show, when you were a kid? (makes the cigar box “talk” in very low Mexican accented voice) “S’okay?” “S’okay.”

(Abu laughs, Wolfowitz dashes cigar box to the floor.)

Wolfowitz: Fucking shenanigans! You joke even as they cut off my communications? All I wanted out of life was imperial power over four out of seven continents, the power to make or break third world governments and some head from a grateful woman, once in a while. Is that so much to ask? And they send you buffoons here to throw me out with your fucking Senor Huences imitations? Have all my dreams of empire and sexual satifaction come to this?

Mover: (snaps his fingers, looks at Abu) THAT was the guy’s name, Senor Huences—

Wolfowitz: GET OUT! Get out, the pair of you! I refuse to leave. (throws open the window to his office) Listen, world! This is your president, Paul Wolfowitz!

Cries from the street below: Jump! Jump!

Wolfowitz: I see you down there, you sons-of-bitches on the Board! You can’t fire me!

From below: Yes we can!

Wolfowitz: No, you can’t! I’m the ruler of the world! I have a right to use my high office to give out jobs and bonuses in return for pussy every once in a while! It’s in the charter!

From below: Come on out of there, Wolfowitz! The jig's up! Show a little class, for Christ's sake. The World Sheriff’s on his way over to evict you!

Wolfowitz: (shouting) I am here to tell you that I’m not going anywhere until I am cleared of this awful charge that I am guilty of! I’ll fight this all the way to the Supreme Court! I’ve got about thirty five Supreme Courts on payroll all around the world, Africa, South America, you name it! I hope you guys have had your shots, I hope you like quinine and malaria, because I’m going to fight this to the end. I’m not giving up until I’m vindicated for using my high office to reward a woman for fucking me!

(Takes out a bullhorn and starts singing the song from “Dream Girls” out the office window.)

And I am telling you
I’m not going
I’m the best man you'll ever know
There's no way I can ever go
No, no, there's no way
No, no, no, no way I'm leaving without dough
I’m not living without dough
I don’t wanna leave free
Im staying
Im staying
And you, and you
You're gonna love me, oohh ooh mm mm
You're gonna love me

(Moving man snatches away the bullhorn, carries it out.)



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