I must apologize prior to writing what I am about to write, but it is simply too good and god help me, too funny, to be true. Now, mind you, it was not so good nor funny for poor Mr. Harry Whittington, the 78 year old hunting buddy of VP Cheney, but it is a story better than any political satirist could possibly write.
Mr. Cheney, is out hunting quail at a south Texas ranch, when he turns towards a covey of birds, meaning to shoot one of them, and accidentally shoots his friend. Now, I am not the kind of person who laughs when someone gets hurt or goes to sit down, misses the chair and lands "squat" on his tush, but I simply can not tell this story or even think about it without giggling and this, I know, is not nice and I was brought up to be nice, and thus the aforementioned apology.
I mean, think about it..... our beloved Vice President is out hunting quail, as if he couldn't just go to the grocery store or better yet, a fine restaurant, and order up some of that quin·tes·sen·tial quail. But no, Mr. Cheney decides he needs to hunt and shoot himself a bird. Now, he may have decided to hunt wild turkeys or pheasants, but not today; today it was to be QUAIL (not to be mistaken for that other 1980's potatoe eating Quail).
So, he takes a friend along for the hunt because, one might assume, hunting is nothing, if not a bonding experience with ones friend. And, how better to bond than to, well, put plainly, to shoot ones friend. I mean talk about irony. Talk about satire. Talk about a self-made skit for Saturday Night Live or MAD TV or grist for the Jon Stewart mill! I mean, it just doesn't get any better.
Sorry, Mr Cheney and Mr. Wittington, I don't mean to make jokes at your expense. But in this case, I think, even you, can see the humor.