Q: How are emu's hunted and caught and killed and cooked?

A: I've been hunting emus for over thirty years, ever since that fateful day - my eighth birthday - when a wild emu trampled my birthday cake to death. Also, my father. He jumped on top of the cake. Or was pushed. I can't really remember. Either way, the emu got him.

They're a challenging foe, the emu. Strong. Fast. Clever. Wicked. Cruel.

That son of a bitch trampled that cake like it was tissue paper. It was an ice cream cake. A Greatest American Hero ice cream cake. That cake meant the world to me. The emu didn't care. It seemed to enjoy my pain. I can still it laughing as it stuck a hoof in that cake and tore it to pieces. It was either laughter or screams - my father's screams - I can't quite recall. It was so long ago. My father had a weird scream, sounded like a laughed. Weird laugh, too. Sounded like a scream. Either way, I remember some sort of loud noise. It's haunted me ever since.

You can only catch an emu by surprise. You can't hunt them head on, like a horse or a bear or a homeless man, you need a large net, or a deep pit. Once cooked, they taste like unicorn. Tender, delicious unicorn.

So I've been told. I've never cooked one. Or caught one. Or seen one.

At least, not since that day.

But I'm bound to see one eventually. Emus always return to the scene of the crime. I hope. They better. I really don't have a back-up plan.

I've dug this pit in the exact spot where I had my party. Where the emu killed my father. Where the emu destroyed my cake. When I close my eyes, I can still see his face, torn apart by the emu.

William Katt's face, drawn in frosting. Got all over the place. I really don't remember my father's face. I was a kid. We weren't that close.

As I was saying, I dug this pit in the exact spot where I last saw the emu. He's bound to come back. An emu never forgets all the birthday's he's ruined. I coined that phrase. I tried to sell it to Hallmark, turn it into a line of cards. They wrote me a very lovely letter saying they were not interested, and to never contact them again.

Nice people.

Yup, this pit is in the exact same spot as my birthday party. Took me ten years to dig it. A lot has changed since then. That tree used to be shorter, that lake deeper and that parking lot used to be a zoo. Other than that, it's exactly the same. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work.

Here emu, emu, emu. I'm waiting.

Q: How can the President persuade Congress to pass a bill?

A: Convincing Congress to set aside their partisan differences and actually do their job is one of the most difficult, and unfortunately, most common tasks required of the President. Luckily, there are a few proven methods.

Use eloquent locution to convince them that the nation needs this bill passed now, more than ever. All it takes is a few well-crafted sentences, some well timed pauses, and the occasional podium thump.

Use the power of the liberal media to shame them into passing the bill or risk months and months of negative coverage during the campaign. All it takes is a few calls to the New York Times.

Use backroom political maneuvering - good, old-fashioned glad-handing and arm-twisting - to get them to do your bidding. All is takes is a new missile silo here, a new bridge there and a severe cut in arts funding.

Yes, sir, you have any number of tactics at your disposal. You can do almost anything. Almost anything.

One thing you cannot do, sir, is use military force. That far exceeds your powers as Commander-In-Chief. It's illegal, immoral, and if I may be frank, sir, rather petty.

It doesn't matter what the Speaker called you, sir, you can't have Seal Team 6 take him out.

You can't use Robot Shark Team 6 either, sir. Even if they did exist. Which I cannot confirm.