Where's a good "death panel" when you need one?

Ripped from the headlines--

"Cheney Resting Comfortably at Hospital after Chest Pains"

Golly, what shocking news--Dick Cheney's heart is giving him trouble. Who knew he had one in the first place? Badda-bing!

Thanks, ladies and germs, I'll be at Caroline's Comedy Club next week. On a double bill with Joy Behar.

I do hope Mister Cheney is receiving the most "enhanced" medical care his lifetime health coverage and pension plan can provide.

I know if I were at that hospital--whether as a doctor, a nurse, an administrator, or a cafeteria worker--I'd make sure ol' Lucifer's Grandad got the most appropriate treatment for his condition.

First of all, I'd crib a "do not resuscitate" order for the old bastard.

Second, I'd argue with the hospital board that waterboarding is, too, a suitable medicinal cure for whatever ails him. And I mean whatever--hangnail, ingrown toenail, boil on the ass of humanity. "Mister Cheney is taking to the waters just fine. He'll be back to his old, hateful self in no time."

Third, I'd yank the plug out of the wall myself.

And fourth, I imagine I would be totally frustrated that even a stake through his body somewhere in the general vicinity of where his heart might be wouldn't destroy Satan-with-a-Pacemaker. I suspect, like any determined specter in a slasher movie, he won't go down easily.

I don't usually speak ill of the dead, Dick, but, alas, you're not dead yet.

Try harder, though.