"Here is our current military problem," Rumsfeld told President Bush as he put a slide on screen. It was a picture of smiling faces of many different races and cultures. "Foreigners! And the solution is: Kill all foreigners."

"I'm afraid you're stuck in a rut, Rummy," Bush said. "So I'm bringing in some fresh ideas."

"Rarr!" Rumsfeld yelled. "How dare you!"

"Calm down. I just want everyone to be on board in fighting the terrorists, so I thought I'd bring in a Democrat to help with planning as co-Secretary of Defense. It was easy to pick, since there is only one Democrat actually laying out a plan."

There was a pounding on the door to the conference room. "The door won't open!" a voice shouted.

"Did you try the handle?" Bush suggested.

"The what?"

"Sheesh." Bush walked over and opened the door. In walked Murtha clad in pajamas and slippers.

"Where am I?"

"You're in a conference room at the White House to help with military strategery," Bush explained slowly.

"Can I just go ahead and strangle him now?" Rumsfeld asked.

"No. Let's first hear what he has to say."

Murtha walked over to a map of the world on the wall. "We need to get out of Iraq! It's dangerous. We need to get our troops elsewhere."

"But where?" Bush asked.

Murtha looked over the map. "Well... uh... I don't see it on here on the map... but we should redeploy to the moon!"

"Can I strangle him now?"

"No, Rummy!" Bush shouted.

"The moon is perfect," Murtha continued. "We can just as easily fight terrorism from there. It's up high, so we can see everything. When we need to strike somewhere, we can just jump and we'll fall right towards it."

"Brilliant!" Bush exclaimed. He then thought for a moment and his enthusiasm faded. "Hey, but what if someone nukes the moon?"

"We'll cover the moon with a Plexiglas shield," Murtha said. "Plexiglas is strong."

"Brilliant!"

Rumsfeld sat down. "Just tell me when it's okay for me to strangle him."

"The only problem with the moon," Murtha explained, "is that it may contain a race of angry mole-people."

Bush shivered. "Oh no! Not mole-people!"

"If that's true, then we'll have to redeploy elsewhere."

"But where?"

Murtha looked over the map and then pointed to one area. "What's this place called?"

"The Pacific Ocean," Rumsfeld answered as he tensed his hands for a strangling.

"Are we going under the sea?" Bush asked.

"No, there are giant squids down there," Murtha said. "We'll make a base that floats. Now, what floats?"

"Dead bodies," Rumsfeld answered.

"Very small rocks?" Bush said.

"Styrofoam peanuts," Murtha stated. "I have a lot at my house and we can make a base out of them. Now I just need to sit down for a second." Murtha took a seat and immediately fell asleep.

Rumsfeld stood up. "I guess it's time to strangle him."

"You can't strangle him while he's sleeping; he's a veteran."

Rumsfeld thought for a moment. "How about I just throw him in the Potomac?"

"Okay."

• Currently 2.50/5
• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• 6
• 7
• 8
• 9
• 10

Rating: 2.5/5 (2 votes cast)

Best of IMAO 2006
~In My World
Email This | Add to del.icio.us | Digg this | Stumble It!