I’m DOA

As head of the United States Department of Attention, I’ve advised the President to eat a monkey at center ice during a New York Rangers game in Madison Square Garden.

But the President is hesitating. Sometimes he can be such a big baby.

“What about those PETA people?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “That’s going too far. Just stick to monkeys for now.”

What can you do? The President is such a wallflower. What’s it called, a wilting lily? He complains that nobody ever pays attention to him because he’s so socially discreet and withdrawn.

But when you hit him with a masterly proposal to enter a professional hockey game in mid-rush, stark naked except for buckle boots, fork in hand, swinging a live monkey over his head by its tail, he demurs.