Part I
“I just want assure everyone that the Belgians have not captured the president,” White House Press Secretary announced.
“My question was about the tax cuts,” said the befuddled reporter.
“Whatever.” Ari took a big drink from his flask of whiskey. “Oh, and if anyone is mountain climbing and happens to see the vice president, please give us a call.”
“You lost the vice president on some mountain top?” exclaimed one reporter.
“I did not say that,” Ari answered, “Why do you people always have to read into everything I say?” Ari took another big drink of whiskey. “God, how many more days do I have to do this.”

The flying fortress of Belgium loomed in the distance as the helicopter continued its approach. “That’s where the foreigners that need a kill’n are, right?” Buck the Marine asked.
“That’s what are intelligence says,” Clancy answered. He was in his usual black suit with black sunglasses, but was wearing a SpongeBob SquarePants tie.
“What happened to your black tie?” Buck asked.
“Oh… uh… this was a gift from my eight year old for Father’s Day. The wife said I had to wear it at least once.”
Buck sharpened his Ka-Bar. “So what do we know about the Belgians?”
“Unfortunately, we seemed to have misfiled our data about Belgium,” Clancy said, “Or, at least, it wasn’t under ‘B’. Luckily, my six-year-old niece had to write a short report on a country, and she was given Belgium. Here is what it says:

Belgium is in Europe. Their money is called the Belgian Franc. They export machinery and chemicals. They speak Dutch and French. I like waffles.”

“How sure are you of the accuracy of that report,” Buck asked as he checked his extra magazines.
“It got a B-. We also used an advanced search tool to gleam information about Belgium from the internet.”
“Google?” Buck inquired.
“Uh… I can’t divulge my sources. Anyway, here is what we learned, most of it taken from blogs: The Belgians suck. The Belgians are possibly radioactive so don’t touch them. Everyone hates the Belgians. The Belgians have super-strength and can fly. The Belgians are totally gay.
I remind you, that, with anything found off the internet, there is a 12% chance of it being true. What we have determined for certain, though, is the Belgians, so consumed about their irrelevance, have become wraith like beings unable to be harmed by normal weapons. Perhaps, though, closer to their own land they’ll have more relevance and can be harmed.”
“Don’t worry,” Buck assured him, “If there is one thing I know how to figure out how to do, its kill foreigners.”
“I think the acting president Dick Cheney would like to have some words with you,” Clancy said as he turned on a monitor.
“I am very cold!” Cheney exclaimed, “Someone please come and get me. I can’t hold out much longer. I think I hear something rattling around in my boot and I’m afraid it’s my toe.”
“Don’t worry, acting president Cheney,” Buck said, “The Belgians will pay for their crime.”
“Are you even listening to me? Please, just…”
Clancy switched the monitor so that now Laura Bush was on screen. “The First Lady also wanted to talk to you.”
“Please bring my husband back home,” she pleaded.
“I will not let you down, ma’am.”
“And, when you find him, ask him where the heated blanket is. I know he was the last one to have it, and I can’t find it now.”
“I will do that. Stay strong.”
Clancy shut off the monitor. They were almost to the evil flying fortress of the Belgians. “It’s time to get ready. All the American people – except for the most partisan Democrats – are counting on you, Buck.”
“If it involves killing foreigners, let them know that I always succeed.” Buck then chambered a round into his M-16 and prepared to disembark.

“Almost got a brick out of the wall,” Bush whispered as he pried at the wall with his waffle knife.
“You know the guards are watching you,” Tony Blair whispered back.
“That’s why I’m trying to be inconspicuous,” Bush said as he frantically pried at the wall. “Why don’t you tap dance to distract them.”
“Tap dance?”
“Just do it!”
Blair started tap dancing. “Stop that dancing!” ordered one of the guards.
“No, I’m British and I need to dance!” Blair answered defiantly.
“Got the brick out,” Bush whispered.
“I’ll stop dancing now,” Blair announced.
Bush curled up on the floor and started moaning. “Oh, I’m sick… much to sick to bash you two guards in the head if you came in this cell.”
“We better help him,” one guard said to the other. They opened the cell and entered.
“I’ll bash your heads good!” Bush yelled as he jumped to his feet and knocked the two guards unconscious with his brick.
“Wow!” Blair exclaimed, “The Belgians are even dumber than you.”
“Yeah, they’re stupid,” Bush laughed. “Uh… now what do I do?”
“You unlock my cell and we get out of here.”
Bush got the keys and let Blair out. “So, do you have any military experience?”
“Not really,” Blair said, “What about you?”
“I flew some planes,” Bush said, “Do you see any jet fighters around?”
“No, not in this cell block,” Blair answered, “Why don’t we look for a means to escape.”
“First, I have to get my cowboy hat back,” Bush declared.
“It’s just a hat!” Blair exclaimed.
“Being, gay, you probably wouldn’t understand,” Bush said, “but a Texan can’t leave his hat behind.”
“I’m not gay; I’m British.”
“Well, whatever you want to call it; I don’t mean to offend. I’m a uniter not a divider.”
They then sneaked through the fortress until they came to the hall of the minister of justice. Inside were numerous guards and a badger wearing a cowboy hat.
“Their minister of justice is a badger!” Blair exclaimed, “The Belgians are completely insane!”
“And he’s got my hat!” Bush said angrily. “We need to distract the guards.”
“But how?”
Bush pushed Tony Blair into the room. “Look, it’s Tony Blair and he’s trying to escape!” Bush yelled.
“Oh, bugger!” Blair exclaimed before running off with the guards in pursuit as Bush hid behind a wall.
“Now to get my hat,” Bush said as he approached the badger. “You give me my hat back, you stinky varmint!”
The badger leapt at Bush’s leg, biting it.
“Ow! It hurts! Get him off!”
Bush then heard the evil laughter of Belgazor. “So you thought you could escape the arbitrary justice of the Belgians?”
“Well, yeah,” Bush admitted, “Until the badger bit me.”
“Guess what,” Belgazor said with a smile, “You’re just in time for your trial. Muh ha ha ha!”
Bush looked confused. “I don’t get that joke.”
“It’s not a joke! It’s evil laughter!” Belgazor explained with frustration.
“Oh,” Bush answered with faux-understanding before the minister of justice went for his groin.
TO BE CONCLUDED…