President Tom Cotton looked over at his military advisors, his brow wrinkling in in an expression he fondly imagined to resemble one signifying wisdom and deep thought.
“So, what are our options?” he asked them.
Maxwell Taylor looked grim. “We could do a half-assed job, and just destroy the missile sites or we could bomb and then launch an invasion, turn that devil Castro out on his ear once and for all.”
And Nebraska,” chimed in Curtis LeMay. “ There are all sorts of commie sympathizers out there.”
Cotton nodded wisely, making a mental note to find out exactly where Nebraska was - one of the Hawaiian Islands, maybe?
“How long will the invasion take?” he asked.
Maxwell Taylor grunted, the sort of grunt that only comes from years of power and bad White House coffee and doughnuts. “Weeks, at most. And the Russians won’t do a damn thing. They’d be afraid to start the Big One.”
“I like the cut of your jib” President Cotton said. “In fact, the folks who used to own . . . I mean work in . . . the casinos and hotels will no doubt view us as liberators. Get me the necessary paperwork, not too many big words this time, and I’ll glance over them and sign off.”
He stood tall, straightening his shoulders. “Anything else, before we strike a blow for Freedom and Liberty?”
“Nebraska,” muttered Curtis LeMay. “And then maybe Vermont.”
Vermont? Cotton was taken aback; did he really want to obliterate a place so close to Texas? “Run up some scenarios,” he said. “I’ll glance over them when I go bowling this later this week”
And we all lived happily ever . . .
Today is Catheter Day!
They’re gonna be sticking some catheter up either through my arm or my leg, to check out my heart today.
Naturally, I am excited beyond words to describe.
I am assuming that there is come sort of anesthetic involved . . .
Quote of the Day
“The president is selling the country down the river with the help of the Supreme Court. Agree with us or you are a marked traitor. You know the sort of thing, all that tiresome pea-brained nonsense that attracts those people who are so dim-witted that the only way they can understand the world is to believe that it is all some kind of conspiracy.” ― John D. MacDonald, A Deadly Shade of Gold