It’s not that I wouldn’t like to meet the President. But I figure, hey, why make the trip? I already know what will happen when the Pistons visit the White House today. . . .

In the Rose Garden. . . .

JOHN SALLEY (huddled in the corner with the President): So, you see, George, you and me on this poster deal could be sweet. It’s like, you hold up the Coke can, and I say–.

PRESS SECRETARY: Excuse me, Mr. Salley. I need to get the President up to the podium now.

SALLEY: No sweat. Hey, George. Later, man. We’ll talk some business. Who’s your agent?

BUSH: I, uh . . . huh?

ISIAH (walking around the gardens): Look at this, Mark. We’ve come a long way from the old neighborhood.

MARK AGUIRRE: Yeah. The White House. Wow! What do you think, Dennis?

RODMAN: They got a TGI Friday’s here?

BUSH: (Ahem) Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press. On behalf of the Oval Office, I wish to salute the Detroit Pistons –.

PISTONS: BAAAD BOYS! BAAAD BOYS!

CHUCK DALY: STUFF IT, GUYS! Uh, sorry, Mr. President. We’re all excited here, heh-heh.

BUSH: That’s all right. You must be the coach.

DALY: Yes, sir.

BUSH: Nice suit.

CHUCK: Thank you, sir.

BUSH: Wholesale?

DALY: Actually, this place called–.

PRESS SECRETARY: Excuse me, sir? We better get on with this.

BUSH: Right. Say, where’s that Magic fellow?

PISTONS: WRONG TEAM!

BUSH: Ooops. Sorry. Now then, where were we? On behalf of the Oval Office, I wish to salute the Detroit Pistons, the new champions of the NBA!

PISTONS: YAY! . . . Whee! . . . Where’s the food?

BUSH: While it’s true I have advocated a kinder, gentler approach to things . . .

BRENDAN No. 1 (whisper): He obviously never played Atlanta.

BRENDAN No. 2 (whisper): Or Milwaukee.

BUSH: . . . you men have nonetheless proven something I have always said: A strong defense is necessary to our survival!

FENNIS (whisper): I thought Chuck said that.

MICHAEL (whisper): He said it first, then Bush copied it.

BUSH: I see in the notes here that you won this championship with the help of a Spider and a Worm.

SALLEY: Yes, sir.

RODMAN: Uh-huh.

BUSH: I find that commendable. Why, I myself love to hunt with my dog, Millie.

DENNIS: Is he calling us dogs?

SALLEY: That’s it, man. He gets 40 percent.

BUSH: Also I see you relied on a Buddha.

JAMES EDWARDS: Yes, your grace.

BUSH: Fine, fine. You know, I spent some time in the Orient myself. Are you a Cantonese man?

EDWARDS: Uh. . . .

VINNIE: He likes the spicy stuff, Szechwan.

BUSH: I beg your pardon?

PRESS SECRETARY: Go on, sir.

BUSH: Yes. Hmmm. Where’s this Dumars?

AAAAAYYYEEE! JOEY! JOEY! OOOOH!

BUSH: What was that?

CHUCK: Oh, that’s just the pack of women who have surrounded him since he won the MVP award.

AGUIRRE: Yeah. Joe’s in there somewhere.

FENNIS: We think.

BUSH: I see. Well, now. Mr. Mahorn?

MAHORN: Present, sir.

BUSH: My, you’re a tall one. Well, Rick, it says here you’ve been a Bad Boy.

MAHORN: Not anymore, sir.

BUSH: Then you’ve learned your lesson?

MAHORN: Huh?

PRESIDENT: Splendid. You see, our system of reform really can work.

MAHORN: Hey, wait a min–.

ISIAH: Mr. President, on behalf of the team we would like to give you this special, personalized jersey.

BUSH: Hmmm. BAD BUSH? Gee, I’ve only been in office a few months. Give a guy a chance.

ISIAH: No, sir. With us, bad is good.

BUSH: It is?

JOHN LONG: And baddest is best.

BUSH: Well, our vice president will be happy to hear that.

LAIMBEER: Yo, Rick. Look. It’s Dan Quayle.

RICK: Nah, that’s the Howdy Doody dude.

LAIMBEER: Hey, Dan! I voted for you, pal.

QUAYLE: You did?

RICK: You would.

BUSH: Dan, great news! Bad is good.

QUAYLE: It is? Gee, then . . . what’s good?

ISIAH: Finally, Mr. President. We’d like to rap.

BUSH: Fine. Let me get some hammers, and–.

VINNIE: No, what he meant was One-two. . . .

WE ARE THE PISTONS,

TAKE A LOOK

CHAMPIONS NOW,

YOU CAN CLOSE THE BOOK

WE MAY HAVE LOST RICKEY,

WE’LL STILL BE TRICKY

IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE THAT

YOU MUST BE LUNATIC-Y

BUSH: Wonderful.

QUAYLE: I have that record. I think.

SALLEY: Yo, George, c’mere. About this Nike thing. Pretty sweet: 60 for me, 40 for you. . . .

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