Sarah at the Top of the World

The cold Himalayan wind raged at my exposed skin. We were only 500 feet from the summit of Everest, and things were unraveling fast.

Below me I could barely see our sherpa brace himself against the icy rock. He looked beat up and exhausted.

I knew Sarah Palin was somewhere to my left, but had lost sight of her when the wind picked up. Suddenly I felt the rock shake as she dug a spike into the side of the mountain. It was Sarah - and she wasn't giving up.

"Can you make it?" I yelled over the howling blizzard.

She took a moment to catch her breath, visibly shaken by the infusion of ice-cold air into her lungs. Then she turned to me and said, with a steely resolve, "You betcha!"

We kept climbing, when suddenly I lost my footing and slid a few feet down the steep slope.

"Too much ice!" the sherpa yelled. "We must turn back to camp and try again in the morning!"

"NO!" Palin yelled. "We're almost there - I'm not turning back now."

"Why are you willing to risk it all? The summit will be there tomorrow!" the sherpa protested.

"Because Barack Hussein Obama's Kenyan birth certificate might not be!" she yelled.

"I'm with you, Sarah!" I shouted my encouragement as we both started uphill again.

Within the hour the peak came into view. While my skin was frost-bitten, I knew it would be worth it once we reached the top and snatched the document.

Sarah got there first. By the time I pulled myself to the peak, I could tell something was wrong.

"It's not here!" she yelled.

"Maybe it's under the snow?" I told her. We both begin pawing at the powder and ice around us.

Suddenly I saw Sarah's usually blush face turn a pale grey.

"What is it, former governor? What's wrong?" I asked.

She lifted her hand out of a hole and held up a DVD box set of "Real Time with Bill Maher."

"We've been had!" she yelled. "Gosh-darn democrats sent us to to top of the world chasing a ghost!"

"Sarah, maybe this is a sign. Maybe there ISN'T a Kenyan birth certificate," I suggested. She focused her eyes on me, and her voice came through clear as day against the wind.

"It exists. It's out there. Lou Dobbs as my witness, we will find it," she said.

I turned to look back down the mountain.

"Hey, where's the sherpa?" I asked.

We both surveyed what little we could see through the snow.

"I guess the little guy didn't have it in him," she said. "Turned tail and ran. Probably a plant from Maher and his liberal, lefty friends."

On our way back down to the foot of the mountain we found the frozen body of our sherpa. He had lost his footing and fallen hundreds of feet.

"Dammit!" I yelled. "Another good man lost on this wild-goose chase!"

Sarah steadied me with her firm grip. "The price we pay for freedom is high. He's in a better place now - purgatory for unbelievers."