Sunday, September 30, 2012

Potus, introductions part VIII

Meanwhile in the executive briefing room just outside the oval office, the Secretary of Defense was introducing Potus to the daily morning ritual.
"Sir," SoD said, "this is the famous Daily Brief specially prepared everyday for the presidents.  It had all the current news that will help you keep up with developments here and abroad."
Potus rubbed his hands together with glee.  "Kind of like the USA Today you get at the Hilton Express," he enthused.
SoD tried to correct Potus.  "Well, Sir, it's a bit more in-depth than Reuters and AP articles.  These briefs are put together by the finest minds at Langley."
Potus interrupted with a mischievous smile, "Those CIA folks put out their own briefs every day?"
Not taking the bait, the Secretary of Defense answered, "Yes, Sir, they write" (extra emphasis) "the brief daily for the president and his staff."
"Let's see," said Potus scanning the folder.  "Yemen conflicts yada yada yada, Syria blah blah blah, ok, here we go:  the French Prime Minister's Mistress photographed in naked Riviera romp!  What, no pictures?"
SoD rolled his eyes and directed Potus to the next page in the folder.  Potus sighed.  "Well that's disappointing.  Nobody likes to see a middle aged Coach purse jumping into the water."
The other officials in the room nodded politely, looking at the same page.
"Sir, as you can see," began the Secretary of Defense.
Potus interrupted excitedly, "Whoah, mama, Iran's got nukes?  Those Israel nutcases must be going apeshit."
"No Sir," corrected SoD patiently.  "They could have nuclear capabilities in a few years.  Israel is officially willing to wait for a diplomatic solution for now."
"That's crazy," said Potus, "we should go bomb the shit out of them right now.  Where are my nukes?  I'll show them.  Where's my thingee, whatsit, the briefcase with the codes in it?  The football?"
The Secretary of Defense tried to calm Potus down.  "Sir, that's fiction.  It doesn't work that way.  There are no 'codes in a briefcase' anymore.  They're is no 'football'.  Believe me, I'd love to nuke the shot out of those Iranian freaks, believe me, we've tried.  But you have to build a consensus, talk to the United Nations," SoD wanted his hands in front of himself.   "It's a whole thing."
Potus nodded.  "Tell me about these UN assholes.  They live rent free in their own little country on Manhattan island and we foot the bill for all that?"
The Secretary of Defense made a "more or less" gesture and nodded.
"When does that lease expire?  Let's tell them they've been evicted.  Hit the bricks bucko.  Fifty ways to lose your lover!"
SoD looked surprised.  "I don't know, Sir, well have to, um  find out, and uh..."
"Let's do that," said Potus.  "Get ten people on that.  Let's see what we can do.  We are making progress!" Potus crowed with delight.  "My first day on the job and I'm making some progress!"

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