The spotlight pours down on Ringmaster Karl Rove, adorned in a suit gleaming with sequins arranged like an American flag. "Ladeeeeees and Gentlemen!" he announces, "For our next thrilling act, I present to you..." he spins around, open arms thrown toward a far corner of the tent ceiling, "the lovable McCainzo the Clown!"
The audience, made up entirely of political reporters and pundits, erupts into feverish applause as a cartoonish warplane dangling from ropes descends clumsily to Ring 2, red and orange foil fluttering from its sides like flames. It "crashes" into the ground and out tumbles McCainzo the Clown, dressed in a mock Navy uniform.
"Oh no, our war hero!" shouts Ringmaster Rove over the enormous loudspeakers. The crowd gasps, transfixed. For a moment, McCainzo lays prone, completely still.
Suddenly, he jumps up to his feet, and the circus bugles erupt with a "ta da!" A stadium monitor above McCainzo suddenly cuts to a shot of the audience of journalists and pundits - seeing themselves, they explode again into applause.
Ringmaster Rove continues his narration, "McCainzo is about to give a press conference on how to defeat the Evil Terrorists!" McCainzo stomps comically over to Ring 3, where a bristling bank of television cameras, microphones, and clowns dressed like reporters await. Before McCainzo can reach the podium, however, he stumbles over a microphone cord and flops ridiculously on his back. The crowd glances at one another and gasps. McCainzo again lays motionlessly on the ground.
He jumps up from the ground, unhurt. "Ta da!" cry the bugles, and the audience dutifully cheers. McCainzo finishes stomping up to the podium, and the band solemnly begins to play the National Anthem. With exaggerated gestures and expressions, the clown reporters mime hectic, serious questions, and McCainzo pretends he is answering them.
Suddenly, a heavy hip-hop beat thunders through the air and drowns out the National Anthem. McCainzo and the clown reporters jerk their heads with astonishment, and out from the opposite end of the tent charges a platinum Prius stretch limousine with tinted windows. It screeches to a halt beside Ring 2. A French chauffeur daintily emerges, minces to the back of the outrageously long limo, and with a white-gloved hand opens one of its glimmering doors.
Out steps Joe Lieberman, in blackface, dressed in a glittery pimp suit and oversized, mirrored sunglasses.
"Uh oh!" prompts Ringmaster Rove, "It's Hollywood Obambo!" The audience begins to clap, but immediately silences itself as it watches the clown reporters run fiercely over to Obambo, swooning, fainting, and miming frantic questions. Obambo's entourage of blond bombshells - scantily clad in what appear to be burkas stripped down and stylized into tight dance outfits - set up a Power Point presentation as Obambo glances down at the clown reporters, chin raised.
A smattering of boos from the crowd builds into a loud chorus of protest as Obambo mimics lecturing the clown reporters, wagging a long finger and pointing with the other to Power Point slides showing grumpy, downward chart lines and injured soldiers.
Over the din of jeers and boos from the audience, Ringmaster Rove cries, "Oh no! What about McCainzo?" In the adjacent ring, McCainzo the Clown is comically sitting on the floor and clutching his head. All of a sudden, he looks up and raises a finger in revelation.
Nodding confidently, McCainzo stomps over to Obambo and stands behind him. He begins mocking Obambo's scolding gestures as the media audience's boos turn into giddy snickers. McCainzo absurdly feigns crying as the Power Point shows an image of a sick factory worker laying in a hospital bed, his relatives staring despondently at what appear to be insurance forms. Then, from his clown pants McCainzo draws an even more outsized version of Obambo's "designer sunglasses," puts them on, and jerks his body like a rapper dancing in a music video. The delirious giggling throughout the circus tent only intensifies as McCainzo pulls comedic prop after prop from his clown pants - a funny "press pass," a "tire gauge," a picture of Jimmy Carter.
In a living room somewhere, a family of four stares vacantly at their TV, the colors of the circus show dancing across their expressionless faces.
"Don't you have a double shift tomorrow?" says the wife, noticing the late hour.
The husband lazily points at the TV, "McCainzo's about to pull Obambo's pants down."
Another wave of tinny laughter bursts from the TV. "Told ya," says the husband, unsmiling.