Can I call you George? You can call me Barack. Listen, I just want to thank you for being such a good sport on your last days in office. It must be hard when the guy coming in after you is so much cooler and more popular than you are, but you showed a lot of class, and I appreciate it. Michelle told me she thought you were just being a spineless wimp, but let’s just keep that between us, okay? I really don’t like it when she gets mad at me.
I also appreciate the fact that your staff didn’t trash the White House before we came in. I mean, I suppose they could have taken all of the “O”s off of the computer keyboards, screwed up the phone lines, and left garbage and leftover pizzas in the conference rooms, but they didn’t. That was pretty classy. I’m not sure if the same thing will happen when I leave office, seeing as I’ve rehired a bunch of Clinton’s staff, but I can always hope they’ve matured since 2001. But if it does happen, I have my stock answer all ready: “That’s not the (insert name here) I knew.” Works every time.
Look, I know a few of my supporters booed you when you showed up at the inauguration. Okay, not just a few. But you understand, right? I am the change they’ve been waiting for, so the last thing they wanted to see that magical morning was you. I’m sure it was nothing personal. Yeah, I know I said on the campaign trail that “we are the change we’ve been waiting for,” but you and I both know that was just a bunch of hogwash to mollify the mindless masses. Political pap, if you will. Heck, once the excitement of the inauguration dies down, they won’t pay any attention to what’s going on until the next election — or unless we get attacked, whichever comes first.