Gone with the WMD
The camera slowly descends into the Hose Garden and gradually finds its way into the Presidential quarters. The date is somewhere around the time (classified by the Rentagun, CNN will do a special on it with Christiane Amanpour when it is declassified) when operation Freedom Fries was launched and the background score is the song "The Prez sleeps tonight" that goes something like, "In the jungle, the mighty concrete jungle, the Prez sleeps tonight". Screech! The music stops and the editor, rather jarringly, cuts to a shot of Large Tush sitting up in bed, bathed in sweat in his cute pair of lacy Victoria's Secrets and mouth open wide enough to dock the USS Kitty Hawk in just one go.
"What happed Tushie dear?" Asks a concerned Mrs Tush. She has not seen him like this ever since the Stanford days when he would worry about how his parties were threatened by his one and only daddy swearing to cut his allowance down if he did not learn about the nuances of the dance the price graph of Brent crude would perform with each successive act of liberation.
Tushie recovers his composure, the famous pout returns and he stoutly replies: "Nothing honey, it was just a bad dream". (Add a sprinkling of the regulation Texan swagger in good measure here for taste). But only he knew the seriousness of what he saw. He could not recall where it all happened, but for sure there was a huge dragon fly piloted by Scott Bitter and the passengers Bedlam Whosane and Duhsama In Pardon were singing "We will, we will, nuke ya".
What was worse was that the backing vocals were done by Sans Clix, Softly Ran Anne and Jocks Iniraq. Maan, what a nightmare! Not to mention the the fact that they could not sing for nuts, even our pretty lass here, what's her name? The one that ma little gal keeps hummin in between her weekly trips to the probationary authority? Aaah! Chutney Rears, even she can do better! Should ask Dumsfled and Chicks Diney if it would not be a better idea to send her to win the hearts and minds of Eerackky peoples. Well, she got mine at least and I can vouchsafe for Thorny Chair too. Have to say, that boy is a cutie pie, like my mamma is fond of sayin.
TIme: Sometime in the morning, Date: Some day in some year (Both still classified by the Rentagun). Back to the Hose Garden and the media (in bedded, out of bedded and whatever in between) has turned out in full strength to watch THE man pondering over the crucial question of how to deal with Eerackk, while dealing with the even more threatening issue of how to deal with the ticks on his dogs. Is it worth it, to burn a whole dog to kill the ticks? Yup, that is the case, it is worth it and so it came to be that Eerackk would be liberated.
The camera pans to the side now to show us an excited ex-Gen Cooling Towell running towards THE man as he is walking for the chopper that would take him to the Chair Force One. After having consulted all his back issues of GI Joe, Towell had come to the conclusion that they might not find any WMD's there (the full form too is classified by the Rentagun, for they believe it would lead to more proliferation). Visibly bothered, he asks Tush, "What if we do not find any WMDs there sir?
Tushie man stops dead in his tracks (insert drum roll here), turns around, twitches his mouth and says: "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn".
Chair Force one takes off, the shot fades out into the cockpit of a Gee-52, where a pilot releases a desi khattar over Eerackk with a loud guffaw to boot and excited shouts of "Hee Hawww! Ride 'em cowboy".
Vini, vici and fini.