"You don't have a better picture of him?" Condoleezza Rice asked as she looked at the photo of Chomps's open maw.

"Cameras make him intensely angry," Rumsfeld answered, "Anyway, this is the view most people get of him." Rumsfeld hung up another poster reading, "LOST DOG: Responds to the name Chomps - or any other name - with extreme anger."

"I'm sure you'll find him," Rice told him.

"I'm just worried he's all alone in the middle of nowhere with nothing to take his anger out upon."

"He always finds something to take his anger out on," Rice assured him.

"Well, better get back to work," Rumsfeld sighed.

* * * *

"I lost my dog and am extra angry today, so don't piss me off," Rumsfeld warned.

"I have a question..."

"Rarr!" Rumsfeld yelled, jumping onto the reporter and pummeling him, "I don't like the tone of your voice."

"Uh, how do you respond to people who describe the current situation in Iraq has a 'quagmire'?" asked another reporter.

"With murderous rage!" Rumsfeld shouted, charging that reporter.

"Someone distract him with another question!" the reporter pleaded.

"What are your plans for those currently attacking U.S. troops?"

Rumsfeld stopped to think about the question. "We will paint murals on the walls in Iraq depicting a glorious future free of tyranny. And the paint we will use will be... THE BLOOD OF OUR ENEMIES! Rarr!"

"What about North Korea and their nuclear weapons?"

"They will die for their insolence!" Rumsfeld declared, "I will have the poofy-haired head of Kim Jong Il on a pike!"

"I thought Bush's wanted a diplomatic solution?"

"Bush is a pansy! I will beat him with Kim Jong Il's head! Rarr!"

Rumsfeld was getting so worked up he looked about ready to kill all the reporters in attendance, but then a familiar face was seen coming through the doorway.

"Chomps!" Rumsfeld exclaimed, and rushed over to Chomps to give him a hug. Chomps then licked Rumsfeld on the face.

"Aww, isn't that nice," said a reporter, as he got a cameraman to move closer to the scene.

Chomps saw the camera, and it made him angry. Very angry.

* * * *

President Bush relaxed on a couch watching a nature show. "The penguin, while quite awkward on land, swims gracefully in the water," the narrator said.

"Ha, stupid penguins," Bush laughed, "If they can't even fly, why do they bother being birds. They might as well be fish."

"Don't you have work to do," Laura called out to him, "Like some bills to sign, or to take out the trash?"

"No one is ever so busy they don't have enough time to watch a documentary on penguins," Bush answered.

"Down in Antarctica, there are very few predators on land," the narrator continued, "but now approaches a very angry looking dog who seems intent on ripping all the penguins to pieces. Actually, no, it appears there is just one penguin he doesn't like. And the dog has got him and is shaking the penguin vigorously. The penguin being injured, dazed, and confused, the dog seems satisfied that it has paid for its crimes and begins to leave. No, wait, he's stopped to attack a snowdrift. And now he leaves."

"Wow, nature is beautiful," Bush exclaimed, "I didn't like that penguin either. In fact... ack... ech... erk..."

Laura rushed behind Bush to give him the Heimlich maneuver. "For pete's sake, I told you not to buy pretzels anymore."

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In My World
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