The Part of the Debate You Didn't Hear

[NOTE: As most of my well-informed readers know, I'm running for President of the United States. Since I'm neither a Democrat nor a Republican, I don't get much of a chance to air my views publicly, particularly in an adversarial format, me against the press. But the good people at ABC were kind enough to sandwich me into the Democratic debate last Wednesday night. Unfortunately, because of a 5-second time-lag rule, every single thing I said was snipped from the final product. In fact, my entire presence was erased, as if I'd never been there. Fortunately, I managed to retrieve this transcript.]

Gibson: We're going to begin with opening statements.
THE EXTERMINATOR: Hi, America. Vote for me, the Exterminator. Remember: A vote for the Exterminator is a vote for me. And vice versa. Ask yourself: What would I be doing here if I didn’t want you to vote for me? And just compare my qualifications to the others'. I mean: I combine the doddering old age of McCain, the inexperience of Obama, and the sheer obnoxiousness of Clinton. What more could you ask? That’s it, Charlie.

Gibson: Thank you. Let me start with this question. You never wear an American flag pin. How come?
THE EXTERMINATOR: I don’t care for jewelry; I never use it. Not a watch, not a tie tack, not a rhinestone necklace. Nothing. In fact, if I put on a shirt that needs cufflinks, I just roll up the sleeves. Don’t get me wrong: I think every American has the right to wear jewelry, as long as he or she can afford it and it’s not shaped like a cat. But I don’t go for it. Aside from a few coins, the only thing metallic I ever have on my person is a Swiss Army Knife. I carry that, of course, because of my deep and abiding love and respect for Switzerland, which — for those viewers who don’t know — is a small country in Europe, and not to be confused with Sweden. Also, the corkscrew comes in handy if I find myself stranded somewhere with an expensive bottle of wine and no way to open it.

Stephanopoulos: May I follow that up ...
THE EXTERMINATOR: Could you pronounce your name again for me? I keep forgetting it.

Stephanopoulous: I’m not sure I can say that on television.
THE EXTERMINATOR: OK. Fair enough. May I call you Charlie?

Stephanopoulos: I’m George.
THE EXTERMINATOR: Well, it makes it easier for me if I call you both Charlie. Don’t get me wrong: I think every American has the right to be called George. But to tell you the truth, I’ve got so much on my mind these days, what with my health care plan, and my energy plan, and my education plan, and my plan to plan even more plans, that I sometimes forget people’s names. It’s a bitch running for president, did you know that?

Stephanopoulos: OK, call me Charlie.
THE EXTERMINATOR: Thanks, Charlie.

Stephanopoulos: Now, in following up the last question, I’d like to ask: You’ve been photographed not saluting the flag. How come?
THE EXTERMINATOR: Well, Charlie, there are literally thousands of photographs of me not saluting the flag. That might be because I avoid sporting events and public occasions for military propaganda. I’m just not often at a place where it’s appropriate to salute the flag. If somebody passes a law that you have to say the Pledge of Allegiance before entering a Starbucks or a Barnes and Noble, you’d probably be able to get a few of candids of me saluting.

Gibson: I’ve got a follow up to that. Don’t you love the flag?
THE EXTERMINATOR: To tell you the truth, Charlie, I don’t care for it. Too much blue and red, and it’s soooo busy. I’d like to see a dash of purple or orange somewhere, maybe even a daub of green or a nice yellow smiley face. And what’s with the stripes and the stars? I have nothing against stripes and stars, but I don’t necessarily believe in them. Now, if you want to make a flag I’d be proud of, how about a picture of the First Amendment? I’d love that. Or you know what would be cool? A scene from The Magnificent Seven. That was a great film, don’t you think? And we could all hum its theme instead of singing that terrible national anthem. I mean, talk about stirring!

Stephanopoulos: What about your middle name? Is it really Hussein?
THE EXTERMINATOR: No, Charlie, that’s not true. My middle name does start with an H., the same as Jesus’s. But it actually stands for Henrietta. By the way, may I call you both Hussein instead of Charlie?

Stephanopoulos: I’d rather you didn’t.
THE EXTERMINATOR: Well, I won’t if you won’t.

Gibson: Now, your religious leader has recently said some pretty terrible things. Are you ...
THE EXTERMINATOR: Wait a minute, Charlie. Wait a minute. I don’t have a religious leader.

Gibson: Christopher Hitchens isn’t your religious leader?
THE EXTERMINATOR: To tell you the truth, Charlie, I don’t even know the guy.

Gibson: You mean it isn’t true that he helped lead you to atheism when you left college, and that later he married you and your wife, and that you go to his lectures all the time and take copious notes so you can memorize his words and quote him verbatim, and that you wear an invisible earpiece through which he tells you everything to say, and that you have a large blow-up picture of him in your living-room that you pray to, and that you used to travel together from city to city doing yoyo tricks and passing the hat, and that you’re actually Siamese twins separated at birth?
THE EXTERMINATOR: Well, Charlie, you caught me in a little fib on that one.

Stephanopoulos: What about when you said that only idiots like guns, gods, and xenophobia?
THE EXTERMINATOR: Wow, Charlie, that’s the second one you caught me on. I did say that, but I didn’t really mean it. I really meant to say that guns, god, and xenophobia are terrific; they’re what this country was built on. Let me explain, what I meant. Don’t get me wrong: I think every American is guaranteed the right, through the Second Amendment, to own his or her very own musket. I’m not convinced we have the right to actually use one, however. And I also think every American has the right to pray to whatever god he or she wishes, as long as it’s not shaped like a cat. Also, we have the right to hate whomever we want, but we don’t necessarily have the right to contradict the poem on the Statue of Liberty. These are subtle points of Constitutional Law, however, and I know the TV audience is waiting eagerly to see if I stick my finger in my nose when I don’t think anyone’s looking. Which, by the way, I don’t.

Gibson: Isn’t it true that you lied about facing sniper fire in Bosnia?
THE EXTERMINATOR: I think you have me mixed up with someone else. I never lied about facing sniper fire.

Gibson: So you did face sniper fire in Bosnia?
THE EXTERMINATOR: Look, Charlie, don’t get me wrong. I love Bosnia, although I must admit that the knives you get there don’t have thirty-two blades. They’re perfectly OK for stabbing your neighbor if he or she comes from a different ethnic group, but they lack a Phillips Head screwdriver. The truth of the matter is, Charlie: I’ve never been to Bosnia, although I can find it on a map. It’s somewhere on the other side of the Alps from Switzerland.

Stephanopoulos: Well, where have you been under sniper fire?
THE EXTERMINATOR: Actually nowhere, Charlie, although when I was younger I did go to New Jersey once in a while. Believe it or not, that’s a pretty dangerous place, maybe even tougher than Bosnia. As anyone can tell you, the Garden State is no picnic. Don’t get me wrong: I love the people in New Jersey. I just wish they lived somewhere else.

Gibson: Mr. Exterminator, you and a man who once said he’d like to bomb the entire world have both been known to order a 6-piece Chicken McNuggets. Can you explain your relationship?
THE EXTERMINATOR: I don’t know who that guy is, so I guess he’s not someone with whom I exchange ideas.

Gibson: Are you standing there and telling the American people that you don’t know anyone who has ever ordered a 6-piece Chicken McNuggets?
THE EXTERMINATOR: I do have a next-door neighbor who once ordered a 6-piece Chicken McNuggets. And there’s a guy a few houses down who once said he’d like to bomb the entire world. But I have not exchanged ideas with either of them.

Gibson: You’ve never exchanged any ideas with either one of them?
THE EXTERMINATOR: Well, I may have once had a discussion about dipping sauce. As I remember it, my neighbor likes creamy ranch and I like the barbecue sauce. But the bomb guy convinced us to go with the explosively hot mustard. Don’t get me wrong: I think every American has the right to get whatever dipping sauce he or she wants as long as it doesn’t blow up any buildings.

Stephanopoulos: Well, quickly, because we’re running out of time for this segment. You said that you believe in using former presidents. How would you use George W. Bush if you were president?
THE EXTERMINATOR: Well, Charlie, I would have him put on his old cheerleader suit and go to Iraq with an American flag lapel pin, a musket, and a bible. If that doesn’t win the war for us, I don’t know what will.

Gibson: Thank you, Mr. Exterminator. You’re done.
THE EXTERMINATOR: Hey, what about my health care plan? What about my energy plan? What about my education plan? What about ...

Stephanopoulos: Get your finger out of your nose and stop whining.

Gibson: And now a word for all of you who are trying to decide this really important question: What’s America’s softest toilet tissue?