THE PRESIDENT: Good morning. Today brings news that the Red Republic of Chineses has, for the first time in its history, successfully sent a human being into Earth orbit and brought him home safely again. This is a tremendous achievement – especially for a race of people who can be blindfolded with a strand of dentil floss. So on behalf of America, Russia, and everyone else in the 21st century, let me say how impressively cute we find this development, and look forward to a future where the yellow man remains on the cutting edge – rolling out such modern technological marvels as the steam engine, hoola hoop, and ham radio vacuum tube. Hell, the way these Chinateezos are going, the 1960's are gonna be a bright decade!

And so today, as backward Chinafolk celebrate this accomplishment in their streets filled with pig-tailed school girls, pokemons, and corn rat-dog vendors, we congratulate them. When the United States did the same thing way back in the 1950's – only better, and with chimps – everyone here went all spastic, too. At the time, many noted how our celebrations were reminiscent of those held early in America's history, after Francis Scott Key invented fireworks and the Pilgrims used an ear of corn, a nail and an Injun torso to make the world's first compass. That's why I'm confident that if China keeps reaching, maybe one day they will even grow up to be a country that doesn't get its split-sideways butt crack kicked by that tiny nation of mega-rich ninjas who can somehow make Nintendos, yet can't even build a simple fire to cook their raw fish nuggets.

I am told the Chineses' debut manned space mission is notable for its many firsts. For instance, their "Long March CZ-2 F" rocket is the first enemy spacecraft to be powered entirely by American technology. That's right, because prior to Chinese spy Wen Whore Lee stealing all our secrets by gossiping with Dick Cheney, those people were still trying to power rocket ships with testosterone, instead of nigrogen, using transsexual "lady" olympians riding stationary bicycles! But what do you expect from people so stupid they make umbrellas out of paper? Why, I hear tell those Minglings are bursting with pride because their kung-funaut chowed down in zero gravity on some garlic chicken feet, those deep-fried burritos they call egg rolls, and that dish that looks like a normal guy ate a bunch of Sizzilean and broccoli and couldn't keep it down. I just hope they got the poor fella back quick, because every time me and Laura order that food from the Wok n' Roll, the diarrhea makes us so dehydrated, we come out looking like Eunice Kennedy Shriver.

That said, in the midst of all this jubilation, I must temper my enthusiasm with a somber note. To Obi Won Jenobao, Premier of China, I must insist that your country not get any funny ideas about how it might use its new space vehicular abilities in the future. Indeed, let all Chinamen know that America will defend her territories against any and all Communist incursions.

Specifically, China must forget about any designs it may have on America's moon. We know that lots of those folks pray to Some Young Moon, and as such experience lunar cravings, but let it be known that that satellite belongs exclusively to us. It was America that first smashed probes into the moon. And it was America – and America ONLY – that sent a manned invasion force to the moon and planted our flag, which still flies today. And if there's one thing America knows, it's that while the moon might not be made out of cheese, it sure as hell isn't made out of tofu! So open up those little needle eyes and take note of the billboard posted on the eastern ridge of the Ptolemaeus impact crater: "This Property Protected by Smith & Wesson." Of course, if we ever find out it don't have no oil on it, the Moon's yours.

In closing, I'm just pleased as punch that comic relief has joined the Space Superpower frat house. Them Russians may bring the booze, but man are they depressing as a legless prairie whore too sick with syphilis to drag herself out of her dusty bed teeming with linen maggots. So welcome China! Now now bend over and let Brother Bush paddle you until you scream something real hilarious like "Dong chong yong chong dong gong!" Or whatever.

Thank you, and good day.

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