Excerpt:
President Bush:
Ok... bimbo. You don't believe in God, but you do believe in ME right? In Moi? Go on, say it, say Moi-uncle or Moiuncle. Haha.
C. Hitchens:
Car c'est à toi qu'appartiennent le règne, la puissance et la gloire, pour les siècles des siècles.
President Bush:
Que pasa, Lumpy?
C. Hitchens:
Yes, I believe in you. Do I have a choice? Thine is the Kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever, or at least I until patch things up with old lefty friends and maintain my green card status and ...
President Bush:
Why speak French? Don't be a Snobby Slimey Limey Hoochy - an SSLH?
C. Hitchens:
Habit, maybe. You used the French word "moi," so I decided to engage. In any event, you may find a measure of French to be quite useful in your Court, if for no other reason than to protect many simple ears from hearing your complicated thoughts, such as they are. Sometimes leadership compells one to protect the rabble in the marketplace from itself. Also, speaking French pisses off all the right people.
President Bush:
What marketplace? Barney Rubble? Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Mr. Flintstone? Ha, so "Moi" is French? Gotta stop using that one. No wonder Jackass Chiracass was confused when I kept calling him Mister Moi. Anyway, your excuse sounds cool, Dweebacle. You can go now. Game time. Glad to help.
C. Hitchens:
Dweebacle? That's ghastly.
President Bush:
Ghastly? Not me pal. He who smelt it, dealt it. Watch what you eat Hooch. Don't you know there's a war on???