Barry needs an intervention

Backstory here and here
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Governor Palin began to feel that subliminal pull once again...  Without hesitation, she loaded up her snowmobile modified for snowless operation: 42" Super Swampers, a 6" 'pension lift and the handwarmers replaced with holsters for her pair of custom Desert Eagle .650 UltraMags - each of those featuring exquisite "Hello Kitty" inlays in the grips.  She arrives at Mount Rushmore just about the same time as Fred Thompson pulls up in his little red pickup.

[Fred T.] "Hiya, Governor!"

[Sarah P.] "Good morning, Senator!"

[Fred T.]  "So it wasn't just me."

[Sarah P.] "Nah.  I think we're going to convene the whole group again.  Now, where the heck is that trapdoor?"

[Fred T.]  "Oops.  Looks like I parked right on top of it.  Gimme a sec." [Hops in his truck and goes to start it up]

[Little red truck] "R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-click-click-click"

[Fred T.] "Dang.  Looks like my old truck just doesn't have any fire in the belly, so to speak."

[Sarah P.] "No worries." [Retrieves pistols and opens fire on the ground under the truck] "blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam!" [blur of hand doing impossibly quick reload] "blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam! blam!"

A crater, large enough to crawl in, is formed by the bullet impacts and allows the two to gain entry to the hidden stairway that leads far, far below Mt. Rushmore.  They head down into the darkness and eventually emerge in a hidden chamber, met by William "Bill" Casey, Dick Cheney, Bobby Jindal and Chuck Norris.

[Fred T.] "Sorry we're late.  We had a little snafu up there by the trap door."

[Cheney] "Yeah, yeah.  Whatever."
  
[Sarah P, blowing smoke from the barrel of her Desert Eagle] "But I took care of it." 

[Casey, taking charge of the meeting] "I've summoned you all here once again, for our republic is in dire straits."

[Cheney] "Actually, I rather enjoy watching these morons in charge flounder and flub.  They're freaking and floundering like a flounder on the deck of my boat.  A retarded flounder.  A retarded flounder getting tazed .  That's how they're acting.  I love it.  Let's just leave things be for a while."

[Sarah P., starting to cry] "But, but, I want to be president someday! And I don't want to be presiding over a ruined heap of rubble.  We have to do something!"

[Norris] "Dick, you're making the lady cry!  Knock it off!"

[Casey] "The TEA Party movement is an important part of this.  We need to encourage more grass-roots involvement."

[Cheney] "I'm not to impressed with the TEA Party thing.  Seriously.  If you get two or three thousand genuine patriots all together in one place, there should be wounded hippies stacked like cordwood nearby.  But I have yet to hear of one stupid hippie getting punched in his dirty face.  The TEA Parties are a failure."

[Jindal] "Mr. Vice President, is it just me, or are you even crabbier than normal?"

[Cheney] "You'd be crabby too, if you had a zipper in your chest."

[Jindal] "Whaaat?"

[Cheney, unzipping his windbreaker to reveal a zipper holding his ribcage together] "Yeah!  The doctors have to go under the hood so often, they installed this zipper so they could get to my heart more easily." [Unzips chest] "See?"

[Jindal] "But, I don't see a heart.  Just a cold void where your heart should be."

[Cheney] "Look closer.  It is small and black.  Like a miniature BBQ briquette."

[Jindal] "Ahh.  There it is.  Sorry.  I could see how that might be irritating.  But back on-topic, I am really worried about the oil spill."


[Fred T, standing up, but disoriented] "Whenever I'm underground, I lose all sense of direction.  Which way is south-by-southeast?"


[Jindal] "I got an app for that" [pauses to read iPhone display] "that way" [points]


[Fred T, facing the direction Jindal pointed.  Pauses like an actor getting into character then erupts] "GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWR!!!!'


[Jindal's phone beeps] "I just got a text from back home.  It says the oil appears frightened and is backing away from our coastline.  It is now heading towards Cuba."


[Fred T. kicks back with his cowboy boots on the table and smiles contentedly]

[Casey] "What about Kim Jong Il in North Korea?"

[Chuck N's face goes from serenity to rage in a split second] "I...HATE...COMMIES!" [pause] "Umm. Actually, as a Christian, Jesus commanded me to hate the sin but love the sinner.   I still struggle with that...OK...  I...HATE...COMMUNISM!" [leaps from his chair, and collapses awkwardly on the floor] "Gah!  Calf cramp!  Owww!" [Crawls back to his seat in pain.  Reaches into his jacket and draws his Texas Ranger Special Edition 1911, aims it at his calf, and pulls the trigger]


[Sarah P, shielding eyes] "I can't look!"


A blorp of Icy Hot fires from Chuck's .45 and immediately soothes the cramp.


[Chuck] "Now, where was I?  Oh yeah.  I...HATE...COMMUNISM!" [leaps up and attacks the stone wall of the cavern.  Chips of rock fly hither and yon.]


In short order,  Chuck carves a detailed and realistic bas-relief image of Kim Jong Il in the stone.  With his fingernails.  "Die, commie scum!!!" [Chuck performs vicious heel-kick into the groinal region of the carving, which cracks and falls to pieces]


[Jindal's phone beeps] "The Associated Press is reporting that Kim Jong has fallen seriously Il and is being rushed to a hospital."


[Chuck smiles and crosses his arms triumphantly]


[Casey] "One last issue to address.  The porosity of our southern border."

[Cheney] "Bobby, get on your phone thing and issue me a press release.  Tell the media I will be in the Arizona desert, hunting desert grouse. Tell them I will be giving bilingual bird hunting lessons in both English and Spanish.  I want to share my wealth of knowledge in this area, and especially want to teach illegal aliens all the ins and ouch of the gentlemanly sport of bird hunting."


[All assembled erupt in laughter] 


[Casey] "That's all for now."