Barely conscious and groggy in the extreme, you roll out of bed and shuffle into the bathroom. You turn on the sink and bend low, splashing water on your face and flushing the sleep from your eyes. Ah, that's better. Face still dripping, you grope for a towel and start to dry off.
Something's not right. This doesn't feel like one of your towels. And why was the towel rack on that side of the sink? Wasn't always on the other side? It doesn't make sense.
You open your eyes again and peer through the darkness at the towel. Its not your towel. You find he light switch and scan the room wildly as the fluorescent bulbs warm up. This isn't even your bathroom!
The World reels on its axis and your blood runs cold as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. "No. It can't be! It just can't be!"
The face staring back at you from the mirror is the face of George W. Bush.
So, there it is: you are The President of the United States of America. It may look like W on the outside; but on the inside, its all you, baby. All your ideas, all your principles, all your experiences are all intact; only the outside is different.
All options are open. No more screaming from the sidelines while others drive the country off a cliff. You are President now. You set the tone. It is all wide open. Do you fix what's wrong now, or look to the future? Do you just dismantle what has been done, or do you set a totally new policy agenda? What will you do?
What will you do?