They say it’s your birthday
It was 3 a.m. on Presidents’ Day in the Hall of Presidents at Disney’s Magic Kingdom in Orlando, and the animatronic figures were talking amongst themselves.
“You know,” said George Washington, “today is not even my birthday. Nor is it yours, Abe. Who thought up this ‘Presidents’ Day’ garbage anyway?”
“It started to honor only you, Spanky,” said Lincoln. “Then, in 1968, they got the bright idea to combine the celebration of our birthdays on the third Monday in February. Great excuse to give federal employees another long weekend.” He smirked. “I’m sure they spend it contemplating our basic liberties.”
Washington was miffed; his electronics began to smolder. “I have repeatedly asked you not to call me ‘Spanky!'” he roared. “Do it once more and I’ll pull that stupid stovepipe hat so far down over your face that no one will know you have a beard!”
“Fellas, fellas!” said George W. Bush. “It’s a new world order! Let’s just settle down and have some Texas-style barbecue!”
“Stow it, Dubya!” yelled Warren G. Harding. “You lost all credibility when you said Nixon had Weapons of Mass Destruction hidden in his briefcase!”
“Enough! Let’s get back to the original subject,” said Washington. “Why can’t I have a dignified celebration of my birthday? Fifty percent off a mattress does not honor my legacy!”
“I’m with you, general!” said Donald Trump. “You should be memorialized in great fashion! The best memorial ever! No one will ever have seen such a great memorial!”
“Um, I already have a 555-foot tall monument,” Washington said. “Or have you renamed that, too?”
Trump smile weakly. “I’m thinking there should be a 1,776-foot-tall golden statue of you straddling the Potomac, like the Colossus of Rhodes! Or how about adding your name to something? How does ‘The Donald J. Trump and the Melania Trump and the John F. Kennedy and the George Washington Center for the Performing Arts’ sound?”
“How the devil did HE get back up front?” asked William McKinley. “I died for my country but I’m stuck here in the back row!”
“He was re-elected,” said Richard Nixon. “Go figure!”
“I should’ve been back up here in 2020,” said Trump, pouting. “But Sleepy Joe Biden rigged that election, and they unbolted me and stuck him front and center! But I fixed him! I’m back up front now! I might just stay here permanently! You’ll never have to add another robot!” Lincoln raised a finger. “Who was it that said, ‘Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt?’ Oh … I did!”
“I feel your pain!” said Bill Clinton.
“Thanks, Bubba!” said Lincoln. “You’re a cool guy – no matter what Monica says.”
Washington laughed, and his false teeth fell out.
“I think you’re all forgetting one thing,” James Madison interjected. “We’re only animatronic representations. We can complain till our circuits fry, but we can’t change anything.”
“Well, Mr. Smarty Knee-Pants,” said Lincoln, “If you had addressed slavery when you wrote the Constitution, maybe there wouldn’t have been a Civil War, and …”
“I can change the Constitution if I want to!” Trump said excitedly. “I can do anything I want! Have you seen my plans for the new White House ballroom? By the way, we’re changing ‘White House’ to ‘Trump’s Golden Palace!’ We’ve already ordered the paint from Temu!”
“Will you shut up, man?” Biden shouted.
“Somebody … please unplug him!”