Part I
Part II

* * * *

"I'm Ari Fleischer."

The kid took another lick of his lollipop. "Who?"

"The White House Press Secretary."

The kid stared at him a second. "You're bald."

Ari swatted the lollipop from the kid's hand. "And you're fat."

The kid cried and ran away while Ari laughed. He then looked around the Guinness Book of World Records Museum. "Hmm, that is a lot written on that grain of rice." He then spotted a sign saying "Animal Records."

"Just what I'm looking for."

He entered the section and read a sign. "Chim Chim, the World's Evilest Monkey." Ari looked at the monkey who stared back with its dark eyes, rubbing its hands together as it plotted dark things that no good soul could fathom. "Glad he's in captivity," Ari uttered to himself. He then went to the next sign.

"Chomps, the World's Angriest Dog. Do not tap on glass. Do not stare dog in the eyes. Do not read the New York Times in front of him." Ari looked at the dog who kept barking and trying to break through the Plexiglas. "That is one angry dog."

"Do I recognize you from T.V.?" asked a woman behind Ari.

"Yes, I'm Ari Fleischer, the White House Press Secretary. Are you the curator?"

"Yes, I am. Do you need help with something?"

"Well, I'm leaving my job soon, and, before I go, I would really like to have Michael Moore mauled."

Chomps started barking and charging the glass so fiercely that it caused Ari to jump back.

"Don't say that name in front of him," the curator said in a panic, "He once got loose and into a showing of Roger and Me and, well, it wasn't pretty."

Ari grinned widely. "He'll be perfect. So, can I borrow him?"

"No, but you can take him," the curator said, "We can't afford insurance anymore with him around."

"Fine with me," Ari answered and looked to Chomps, "You're going to like it in D.C. Plenty of people need a mauling there."

Chomps considered Ari's words, and then snarled.

* * * *

"I'm going to use the defibrillator!" the veterinarian shouted.

Zatoichi's cane blocked him. "No! It is for the angry dog to decide whether to leave this world or stay. The choice lies in him alone."

"I didn't go to vet school to take orders from some blind samurai!" the veterinarian shouted back.

Rumsfeld took hold of Chomps's paw. "Come on, boy. There are too many unmauled hippies out there for you to leave now. I can strangle some of them, but I need you to rip apart the rest. Back in my day, dogs took hits from trucks all the time, and I know you're even tougher than them. So come back to us, Chomps."

* * * *

Chomps stood in darkness. Before him appeared a bright white light. He barked at it. The light then began to soothe him, but he didn't like being soothed so he barked even more.

Chomps then looked behind him to see a fiery pit of terror. Within it were hippies and Commies wailing in agony. Chomps growled, and his mouth watered at the thought of gnawing them and increasing their pain. Just as he was about to charge forward, he felt a presence behind him. From out of the light cam a kindly old man wearing a three piece suit. He didn't particularly make Chomps angry, but he barked at him anyway.

"It's okay, boy," the man said, "You really want to go maul those hippies down there, don't you?"

Chomps snarled in angry agreement.

"The thing is, you have all eternity to maul those deserving souls down there, but there are people on earth now deserving of your wrath you will go unharmed if you stay here. Do you understand?"

Chomps thought for a moment, and then remained silent. He looked between the light and the fire and saw a dimmer path out.

"That's a good boy," the man said and then patted Chomps on the head, "Now go maul a hippy for the Gipper!"

* * * *

"Get your Japanese man away from me!" the veterinarian yelled to Bush as he approached Chomps with the defibrillator.

Suddenly the candle next to Chomps bed flared up, and the wall caught fire as well. Chomps then leapt up, grabbing a pad of the defibrillator and crushing.

"Chomps, you're back!" Rumsfeld exclaimed in what for him was similar to glee.

"Angry dog has made the choice of life," Ichi intoned.

Chomps then jumped from the table and plowed straight through the brick wall.

"Go get 'em, Chomps!" Rumsfeld yelled.

"I don't care if he brought himself back to life," the veterinarian said, "I still get paid."

* * * *

"Now some have questioned whether our new document was really made in the 70's," Dan Rather said, "because it has the image of a duck about to smash a computer with a mallet on it. But listen to this expert here."

An expert appeared at Rather's right. "I'd just like to say that it would be possible to draw a duck back in the 70's," the expert said and then walked off.

"And listen to this other expert about the signature verification," Rather stated.

Another expert appeared at Rather's left. "It is in fact a signature," the expert said before leaving.

"So, now all of you pajama wearing partisans better stop questioning us," Rather announced, "and... hey, that camera looks a bit like an angry dog... AHHHH!"

* * * *

"It's nice to relax here in one of wife's houses where the press can't talk to me and get me to contradict myself, isn't it, Jeeves?" Kerry asked his butler.

"It certainly is, sir."

There was a knock at the door.

"That's not the press, is it?" Kerry asked, hiding behind his chair.

"No," Kerry's butler answered as he looked through the peephole, "It appears to be an angry rottweiler."

"Oh. Then let him in."

Kerry's butler paused for a second. "Okay, sir."

* * * *

"We need to get rid of that wall so we can blow up the joooos!" Arafat yelled, "Maybe that U.N. peacekeeper running towards me can help."

Chomps, wearing his blue helmet, burst through the doorway and grabbed Arafat by the leg. He then shook him in the air.

"It's a targeted Israeli dog attack!" one of the Palestinian terrorists shouted. "We need to do something!"

"But if we touch him, we'll be unclean!" said another.

They watched as Chomps kept shaking Arafat like a chew toy.

"It is kinda funny to watch."

* * * *

"We need to kill the Americans before they make democracy in Iraq!" yelled one terrorist, "Only crazy Islamism should rule!"

"Well, what do you think we should do, Mo-Chomps-ed?"

"Grrrowwwerr!" Mo-Chomps-ed answered.

"Hey," said one terrorist, "There's something strange about Mo-Chomps... AHHH!"

* * * *

"We now open this meeting of MoveOn.org," said the head filthy hippy, "We will never forget how Bush stole the election! We will never stop telling people how he is like Hitler! We will never forget how he got us into a wrong war with Iraq that is bad! We will never move on!"

The audience cheered.

"With us today is financier George Soros. Let's give him a round of applause."

Everyone clapped as George Soros sat quietly in his three-piece suit.

"The Bush suppression is getting worse!" shouted one hippy, "Just today, we were chased by a dog obviously working for Karl Rove. Luckily, he was hit by a truck."

"Soros, do you think you can give us funding to help protect us against Rethuglican dogs?" asked another hippy.

Soros growled.

The hippies looked more carefully at him. "I don't mean this as an insult, but Soros looks a lot like that dog who chased us."

"An angry dog."

A low growl came out of Soros.

"A very angry dog."

The suit fell off and Chomps bared his teeth.

"This is so going to harsh my mellow."

* * * *

Chomps entered Rumsfeld's house through the doggie door, yawning the world's angriest yawn.

"There you are," Rumsfeld exclaimed, "If you ever scare me again like you did today, I'll strangle you to death."

Chomps let out a lazy growl and then lay down next to Rumsfeld. Rumsfeld scratched behind Chomps's ear as the dog went into the world's angriest sleep knowing there would be much more to be angry about tomorrow.

THE END

Okay, so I didn't kill him.

Still, buy the shirt.

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In My World
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