Well, well, my old friend John McCain, the election is only weeks away and I for one can barely stand the suspense! I am on the edge of my seat—not unlike how you used to be when I forced you into that special, narrow bamboo cage for weeks on end. And as the election gets closer, Johnny, I’m pulling for you—pulling like how I did with your hair, your American hands tied behind your back, your face dragging underwater through all those rice paddies!
Remember that? I’ll bet you do! I used to worry that you had forgotten those days, because you had perhaps blocked out the memories as too agonizing for your conscious mind to retain. But a quick glance at your press appearances over the last weeks has reassured me that you seem to remember just fine!
Aw, it really takes me back…Good times, good times.
We sure have come a long way since those days, huh, my friend? Who would’ve thought, back then, in that lice-infested prison camp we used to call home, that one day those horrible experiences would be so useful in establishing what amounts to the only credibility you have among the voters of your country?
If I had known I was going to be of such help to your presidential campaign 40 years later, I would have tortured you even harder! Anything I can do to help, old buddy.
Ha ha. C’mon, Johnny boy, I’m just joshing you!