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} INDIANA QUAYLE
} AND THE
} SEARCH FOR THAT DARN DOG MILLIE
}
} Scene 1
}
} The sound of papers shuffling restlessly nearly drowned out the
} voice of Professor Quayle as the class bell approached with its swift
} and final mercy. "Now we see by definition two that we can prove
} theorem three--but I haven't given you the second definition, have I?
} The theorem is trivial anyway, I'll let you prove it on the next exam,
} maybe. You can see that this theorem has many applications, that is,
} um, well, you will see the applications in your other classes. Let me
} write down your assignment...<scribble> Show how 'Red Storm Rising'
} proves that we should develop anti-satellite weaponse. That word
} doesn't look right."
} "It's spelled without an 'E,'" a student suggested.
} "Oh, right," Quayle nodded. "Waponse."
} As the bell rang and the class lunged for the door, an older man,
} the chairman of the department, slipped in and approached the
} professor. "Indy, there are some men here to see you. They are from
} the Republican Party."
} Quayle set down his eraser, a serious glint in his eyes. "Show
} them in," he said.
} The group of men sat down in the classroom and some papers and
} photos were passed to Quayle. He glanced through them and immediately
} dropped them to the table. "You can't be serious. When were these
} photos taken?"
} "Yesterday," said the Republican.
} "Ah, think of it," Quayle rubbed his chin excitedly, "the
} President's dog Millie, lost after all these days, and it turns out she
} might still be on the White House grounds. Do the Democrats know?"
} "Yes, that's why we're here. Herr Furher Clinton has ordered
} searches for her three shifts a day. He's obsessed with finding her
} first. Will you help us find the Lost Dog of Bush?"
} "Of course, it would be a vice president's dream," Quayle
} answered. "It won't be easy. You know what Millie means to our Party.
} If Clinton's cat Boots finds her--we MUST succeed."
} Quayle nodded sagely, "If we do not succeed, we run the risk of
} failure."
} The Republican looked relieved. "Are you ready? Is there
} anything you need from us?"
} Quayle looked the Republican in the eye and replied, "One word
} sums up probably the responsibility of any ex-vice president, and that
} word is 'to be prepared.' I'm ready, all right."
} The Republican clapped his hands together. "I knew he would be
} our man! Do you know what to do, Indy? Do you have a plan of action?"
} "Certainly," the professor answered, "I would know what to do, and
} when I ah Vice President--and I will be--there will be contingency
} plans under different sets of situations and I tell you what, I'm not
} going to go out and hold a press conference about it, I'm going to put
} it in a safe and keep it there! Does that answer your question?"
} Satisfied, the Republicans left Quayle to stare wonderingly into
} the picture of a little lost dog named Millie, lost since the day Bush
} moved out of the White House.
}
} Scene 2
}
} "Hello, Marilyn," Indy said.
} Marilyn whirled around from her seat at the country club bar.
} "Well," she intoned coldly, "what brings you out to this little piece of
} heaven?"
} Indy clearly felt the chill in her words, but would not be put
} off. "When we were at the White House, your father used to play a lot
} with-- Bush's dog."
} "You mean M--"
} "Shh!" Quayle interrupted. "There's--Democrats--everywhere these
} days. It's like a disease, like the country has lost its mind. What a
} terrible thing to have lost one's mind. Or not to have a mind at all.
} How true that is." And he fell silent.
} Marilyn casually downed a shot of vodka. "You were saying?"
} "I remember that when your father played with--Bush's dog--he had a
} rubber bone. Whenever he had it, Millie--darn!--the dog would follow
} him everywhere. I know you kept it, Marilyn. I'd like to borrow it
} for a while."
} "Get your own bone, you bastard," she snapped. "I had plans.
} Plans to be the first, FIRST lady, and you just--just--you didn't even
} apologize!"
} "I can only say I'm sorry so many times, Marilyn."
} "Well, say it again."
} "I'm sorry." He paused. "Do you have the bone? I'll pay you ten
} thousand for it. That's a lot of money."
} Marilyn reached down into her bra and pulled out a large, white
} rubber bone, the word 'Hartz' nearly chewed into illedgability.
} But just then the bar door opened and a blast of arctic air
} savagely blew through the room. A shadow fell across the floor and
} moved along it, curling across tables and chairs, feeling its icy way
} toward the couple. It halted.
} "Gore," Quayle said as if the name made him wretch, "I knew it was
} only a matter of time before I ran into you again."
} "In ze flesh," Gore replied. To Marilyn, he said, "Zis man is
} goot, but he has all ze wrong friends."
} "What are you going to do to her?" Quayle demanded.
} "Zey don't call me 'Gore' for nozzing you know. I tink for ze
} beginning, I vill make you vead my book--"
} "NO!" Marilyn screeched in terror.
} "Und zen ve vill discuss ze matter of ze Millie's bone. You vill
} tell me it's location. Ve have ze vays of getting ze information.
} Vhat do you say to zat, Indiana?"
} Cool as ever, Quayle put on his rose-colored glasses and simply
} said, "We'll let the sunshine in and shine on us, because we're happy
} and tomorrow we'll be even happier."
}
} WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO INDY AND MARILYN?
} WILL OUR HEROES BE SAVED BY BUSH IN TIME?
} OR WILL WE NEED TO CALL IN THE GIPPER?
} HOW WILL INDY GET BACK ONTO THE WHITE HOUSE GROUNDS?
}
} FIND OUT IN NEXT WEEK'S EXCITING EPISODE OF
} INDIANA QUAYLE AND
} THE SEARCH FOR THAT DARN DOG MILLIE!
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