isaster-relief officials in New Orleans made a stern announcement today to the thousands of celebrities descending upon the devastated city in hopes of providing humanitarian aid in exchange for career-boosting photo ops: We’re serious; you really need to leave now.

“We’ve got to get these fucking celebrities out of New Orleans,� sighed an exasperated Lt. Mark Bolio of the Army’s 92nd Airborne. “They’re drinking up all our bottled water and bitching about the catering all day.�

The influx of famous faces has weighed as a heavy burden on officials who have spent the last week scrambling to get everyone out of the city-shaped deathtrap. Receding water levels have exposed a nightmare world of toxic contamination, with nearly the entire city soaking in deadly levels of E. coli bacteria, lead, crude oil, PCBs, asbestos, leptospirosis, battery acid, herbicides, raw sewage, DDT, snakes, and according to at least one local, cooties. After busting a nut trying to remove the bulk of New Orleans’ stubbornly entrenched locals, many of whom refused to leave their pets or belongings, the Army was not prepared to deal with the celebrity occupation.

“We had this one crazy old lady who wouldn’t leave without her million cats, so we had to drown all her cats in the back yard,� anecdotalized Pvt. Jeremy Pankin, animal lover. “I mean, that is, all her cats drown in the back yard. Yeah.�

According to officials, 95% of the people now remaining in New Orleans qualify as celebrities, with the jury still out on John Stamos and a few others. Most are reportedly taking turns rescuing each other from various perilous locations around the sunken city.

“Thassa haw nyaom flawn dawg,� drawled local plumber Cornell Hughes, possibly speaking about the celebrity situation in New Orleans. “Shaw golla farn myaw.�

Oscar-winning actor Sean Penn, 45, has drawn the most attention after arriving last week with his entourage in a boat that immediately sank, despite frantic efforts at beer-cup bailing. Reports are unclear as to whether Penn was here to help the locals, or if he was rehearsing for his role in an upcoming Woody Allen comedy.

“When you see people in trouble on TV, as a celebrity you can’t just stand idly by,� explained singer Harry Connick Jr., who like every other jazz musician, claims to be from New Orleans. “That’s why I’ve been here for the last few days, walking around and telling people I’m Harry Connick Jr.�

Other celebrities either rescued or ejected from the city by the National Guard this week include Fab Morvan, formerly of Milli Vanilli, rapper Flavor Flav, the Dixie Chicks, Leonard Nimoy, radio personality Dr. Phil, the Oak Ridge Boys, Paul Reubens, Sista Souljah, writer Stephen King, the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir, tennis pro Ivan Lendl, Sting, actor Mickey Rourke, and three members of the alt-fluff quartet the Cardigans.

R&B singer Macy Gray wisely decided to give the highly toxic and in all likelihood instantly carcinogenic city a wide berth, instead volunteering to hand out t-shirts and condoms to refugees at the Astrodome in Houston.

“You kiddin’ me?� questioned Gray when asked about her decision. “That place is like the Chernobyl Water Park. I wouldn’t even drive past that state with the windows down. I already got curly hair, you know?�

Meanwhile, Fox crews have been on hand in New Orleans all week to film a new reality show based on the celebrities’ and locals’ exciting efforts to sneak back into the watery grave that used to be their city. According to network officials, I Forgot Something! will premiere on Fox later this fall.

EMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, proved itself unprepared for the post-hurricane situation in Louisiana, and now will have to prepare itself for an even more deadly assault on its reputation. The publicity disaster follows reports in The Washington Post and other media outlets that FEMA fem and director Michael Brown may be less than qualified for the position he holds. Federal agency historians are describing it as possibly the worst media-related catastrophe to ever strike the organization.

Damage to the agency's character hasn't been fully assessed, but early estimates predict anywhere from one to five careers may be permanently injured or even extinguished. Early signs of the disaster's effects came when the White House reversed its original "FEMA good" public statements for the more critical "FEMA can do better" statements of recent days.

The fallout comes from public outrage over the slowness and inefficiency of relief efforts in the wake of the hurricane Katrina disaster and the extent of destruction from floods in the Louisiana area. As the outcry increased, media outlets investigating FEMA Director Michael Brown uncovered sources who say the director may have misrepresented his qualifications or been misrepresented by people in the administration. Some are accusing the administration and Brown's supporters of making him the director because of his work on the Bush campaign, rather than his experience with disaster relief—not that the Bush campaign was unofficially a disaster, but such a designation doesn't put it on par with the flooding of New Orleans.

Last week, the president commended the FEMA director with a resounding and dignified, "Brownie, you're doing a heck of a job." Quite a contrast to the administration's more recent admission the relief efforts were going abysmally slow, and Thursday's remark by the president, "Brownie, get your shit together. Quit dragging ass and get 'r' done or we're gonna shitcan you."

But some are asking, given the degree to which Brown's resume may have been misrepresented, if the FEMA director shouldn't be shitcanned already. With the poor relief efforts attracting media attention and adding lead to the president's always-precarious approval rating, Brown was removed from his on-site duties in the relief efforts. Such an action may precipitate Brown's stepping down from his position to make way for some other Bush crony with slightly more experience.

Reports surfaced this week that 5 of 8 top FEMA officials, including Brown, had little or no previous disaster relief experience, and at least 3 played vital roles in the Bush 2000 election campaign. Director Brown himself cited only one disaster-related job, allegedly overseeing disaster relief efforts in Edmond, Oklahoma, but sources now say the job was closer to "administrative assistant" or "intern," or in the common parlance, "little bitch" to the real boss.

If Brown is asked to stepped down from his role at FEMA, some are already anticipating a quick appointment by the president for his old supporter. Insiders at the White House are talking about the possibility of a Federal Emergency Public Relations Agency (the less-interesting acronym FEPRA), who will need someone to run it with the kind of publicity disaster experience only this most recent crisis can provide.

Sorry, kind readers, but I haven't the time to waste writing for you this week. I have managed to get back on track with the Biggest Conspiracy in the World (BCW, for you conspiracy fans) after losing my foot in the door so tragically this time. I speak metaphorically, of course, and my literal foot suffers nothing more than a dangly, unclipped toenail and a stark and pungent odor. But why am I wasting time like an unaccredited Dr. Scholl's? I have to catch up with all my new contacts, and my column is the quickest and safest way to do. But just in case someone is actually reading it, I'll do everything in the agreed-upon code for all my compatriots.

To the kind and stealthy Mr. Humphrey: It's all set for Tampon, right around Fluff-fifteen. Check the code book I gave you on how to translate those times. But I was lucky to get it set up, so don't go showing up at 4:30 or too early at 4:10. Thursdays are always hell in doctor's offices anyway. Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell you where it is! It's at Pigeon Michaels' office. Remember? Pigeon Michaels, the Ear, Nose and Throat Pigeon?

For Willie and Sanchez: I'll be there at midnight tonight, in the agreed-upon location. And I'll have my bass with me. That's not code. I will be bringing my bass, since my band is rehearsing shortly before the meeting.

Turnip, or Mrs. Turnip: Make sure you have the Glockenspiel properly lubricated. I don't want another rash on my sensitive parts because you didn't do it right.

Anthrog Baker, Esquire: The Cake did not rise. Repeat, the Cake did not rise. Cancel the party.

Shaolin Henry: We're turning away all guests that don't know the Piper. If the Piper hasn't been paid, kick their ass to the curb. Forget them. Don't let them in if they got their hand stamped last night. It's a new night, a new Piper to be paid.

Ronald McDonald and the Hamburgler: The paddies are hot. Don't touch them. I'm not responsible for what happens if you grab the paddies.

Mrs. Turnip: I forgot to ask, can you show me how to bake a proper Cake? Ours didn't rise. It really sucks, because we had to cancel our party and everything.

Fantasia Martin: If you must, you must. But watch out if the dog is outside. He's sitting in the water dish.

Dickless and Assmunch: In regards to last week's queries, no, you can't have your nicknames changed. It serves you right for taking a smoke break while we were assigning names.

Pedro: The border is wide open and fully unguarded. Come home, and come home quick.

Bundles, a.k.a. Monsignor Bundles: Study the Rubicon. We have a schedule to keep, and every day those Chocolate Chips don't come in we lose another 5 million Cancers.

Og the Hog: Call me sometime. Remember me? This is Red Bagel, from Kappa Delta. We need to catch up sometime.

Franco and my Publisher Harold Mortensen: The book is finish and ready to be published. That's code for you, Franco. Normal talk for you, Harry.

Omar Bricks: Get your dead fish out of my office. This is not code, but I can't stand the wait anymore. I've measured it and you're not anywhere near the world's record, even for clear water pond catches.

Blanche: See what you can do about getting me a cell phone. I can't keep in touch with any of the gang. I've had to resort to using my column to keep up the conspiracy messages.

Everyone else: Bugger off. I'll have more to say to you next time.

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