The year was 1973. Our president was Gerald Ford, the greatest in our history, and boy did he know it. He would strut around the corridors of power, whistling some tune or another way to loud, often jimmying one of the many white house windows to holler and taunt passer-by.
A secret coven was formed by Americans top military leaders, to discuss what to do about this unpopular but still great president. His dismissal would likely lead to mass panic and the collapse of several industries, but to keep him around would annoy staff. He had to be replaced with as low impact as possible. In the end the solution was as simple as it was stupid: top scientists were brought from the set of Six Million Dollar Man and commissioned to create a clone of the president.
The experiment was a success, and the clone led the country diligently. But fate is a harsh hot cousin, and some began to suspect the clone worked too well. The clone, codenamed Adam, had a 30% greater work output and no genitals, and people were beginning to notice. So, a second clone (codenamed Steve) was commissioned from Adam’s old teeth, and made considerably dumb-dumberer.
This experiment went off better than expected, with the nation falling in love with his zany bills of law and rope tricks. But there is another hitch: he was so popular, the coven was afraid of what would happen if he was to pass away or fall into a cement mixer of some such.
So, these same scientists, by now Emmy-nominees, commissioned a third clone (codenamed Steve 2), this one specially designed to be a genetic replica of the old, rather than artificially inseminate a W.A.S.P and hope for the best. This clone was even more of a success then the old one, which brought up the original clones’ problem, so a fourth (codenamed Butthead) and eventually a fifth (codenamed Clone) was created to get the same amount of success: no more, no less.
Everyone loved it, and the sound of hi-5’s resounded across Washington. However, an unforseen problem now become another problem: we know had as much as six Gerald Fords’ crowding a microphone at any one address, including a confused and shouting original Gerald Ford (codenamed Ford Classic). It was only a matter of time before the public and the press noticed something fishy.
The coven stayed up til 9:15 trying to think of a solution, some of them resorting to homosexual affairs to get their little grey cells working.
It was actually air-force college intern Bryde O’Phallic that hit upon a plan: why not just kill all the Gerald Fords, or at least enough that their numbers would be more manageable.
Killing Gerald Ford Prime would be easy enough: just wait until old age picks him off, no one would notice in a herd that size. But the clones, being quite a bit younger and healthy eaters, would prove trickier. It said quite clearly in the Constitution (overseen by the 4th best president) that no leader of these United States were to ever be assassinated. Never! Just a blanket kibosh on the whole thing. A President could only die heroically defending his village (as America began) from the flying terror that is the Roc, or from the social disease.
All seemed lost, and the coven went back to their rooms cranky. But it was O’Phallic again to the rescue, thanks to a loophole written hastily on the back of the Declaration of Independence. He pointed out that in celebration of the upcoming bicentennial, one murder will go officially unpunished, and that honor historically went to the President. Well then golly now we have a plan: get a clone to kill themselves, so to speak. Easy right? Anti-right! None of the Gerald Fords wanted to kill another Gerald Ford, or for that matter be a killed Gerald Ford.
So, plans were put into motion to create a seventh clone (an extra, codenamed Fruit Tingles by the Lifesavers Candy Company by the Lifesavers Candy Company, you may of seen it on their adverts getting punched in the throat with flavour) breed exclusively to kill the other Gerald Fords and then hopefully die from a peanut or raspberry dip allergy the scientists added. This was a disaster, as this clone (codenamed Angel of Dead) had about as much want to kill Gerald Fords as the other Gerald Fords.
So, the scientists began cloning in earnest, partially out of frustration but also to create that most elusive of clones, the fabled Evil Clone, or ‘Evil Twin’ to use its literary equivalent.
To this day, 1993, the clone program has yet to find anything more than a handful of Slothful Clones, and Gerald Fords run feral through our alleyways and bakeries, breeding with each other to create hordes of disease carrying offspring.
If you are bitten or your baby is kissed by a Gerald Ford, leave your home immediately and put it on the market as it’s now cursed (milk sours, pets become enflamed, the lot). Inform the authorities, and also anybody you come in contact with from then because, hey, you just met Gerald Ford, our nation’s greatest president.
This ends the Presidential History Walking Tour. Please return this brochure to the nearest trash receptacle, and apologies for hijacking your date.
For more information on the as-yet unclaimed free murder, please direct inquiries to your local White House, or call this number 8 888 8888 88 into the wind.