“Man, I was going to get in trouble for my Secret Service not being diverse enough,” President Bush told Donald Rumsfeld, “I was told I need to hire either a woman or someone with a handicap.”
“So did you hire a woman?” Condoleezza Rice asked, listening in.
Bush started laughing. “Yeah, I hired a woman,” he said mockingly, “She’ll be sitting there fixing her nails while I get mowed down by machine gun fire. Don’t you have some dishes to clean, Condi?”
“I was working on threat assessments for middle eastern countries,” Rice answered angrily.
“That’s cute, Condi; you keep doing that.”
Rice gave him an angry look and then stormed out of the office.
“I heard that, George!” Laura Bush exclaimed, “That was mean and sexist, and I think you should go and apologize to her.”
“Bah, woman and there feelings,” Bush answered, “They should be like us men and not have any.”
Laura just shook her head and walked away.
“So who did you hire?” Rumsfeld asked.
“Zatoichi, the blind samurai!” Bush answered.
Walking slowly into the room came Ichi, tapping ahead of him with his cane. Chomps walked up to him, watching him with reserved anger. “Nice doggie,” Ichi said, blindly reaching out to pet Chomps. Chomps snapped at him, but he had quickly retracted his hand.
“Wow! What reflexes!” Bush exclaimed, “And there’s a sword in his cane he can pull out and cut people with it. He’s so cool.”
“Giving sharp object to blind people seems like a bad idea to me,” Rumsfeld said.
“You should see him, though!” Bush answered, “A hippy bothered us on the way here, and, with one swing of his sword, Ichi cut the tie dye shirt right off the hippy without touching his skin.”
“So he completely missed the hippy,” Rumsfeld scoffed, “Sounds like a piss poor samurai to me. And how well is a sword going to help you nowadays? What happens if he comes up against a blind rifleman? He’s dead; that’s what.”
“Don’t listen to him, Ichi,” Bush said, “I know you’ll make a great secret service agent.” He then turned to Rumsfeld. “And he only cost 50 bu to hire.”
“What’s a bu?”
“I don’t know; I’m having an intern look into it. Anyway, I have to get going and give some speeches and stuff. Come on, Ichi.”

“Man, I don’t like talking to people,” Bush sulked, “They always laugh at me when I mess up my speakering. But I guess you don’t have to worry about things like that, Ichi, since you can’t hear them laughing.”
“You’re thinking of deaf,” Ichi said, following Bush.
“Whatever. Anyway, I just had this last addition added to my schedule. I’m supposed to meet some school children in this scary alleyway.”
As they walked further into the alleyway, Ichi grabbed Bush by the harm and then carefully listened around him. “I sense danger.”
“Oh no! Danger is bad!” Bush exclaimed.
“Stay close to me,” Ichi said, now holding his staff with both hands.
Five terrorists emerged holding scimitars. “We kill you, president Bush, because of our extreme Islamic view which dictates we want to destroy America or something,” said one of them.
“Oh no! Islamic extremists!” Bush exclaimed. “Be careful, Ichi; they’re extreme!”
The terrorists charged Bush, but, with lighting speed, Ichi drew is sword and cut all five down, the sword returning to its sheath with a click.
“That was so cool!” Bush said, “I need to get attacked by terrorists more often. That will learn them for sure! If they want to destroy America, they should do it through non-violent means such as helping the Howard Dean campaign.”
“I think this was a trap,” Ichi uttered.
“But who could have set it up?” Bush asked, “This was a last minute addition to my schedule added by Condoleezza Rice who currently has a grudge against me.” Bush thought for a moment. “It must be the Syrians!”
“Maybe it was this Condi in vengeance for those mean things you said,” Ichi suggested.
“You think?” Bush asked dubiously, “If that’s true, she’s going to get a talking to. Nobody tries to kill this President and gets spared a talking to!”

Chomps stared at the control panel. It made him mad. “Grrrow!” he growled as he attacked it.
“Self destruct in 10… 9… 8…” said a pleasant computerized voice.
Rice ran over to the controls. “Self destruct deactivated,” said the computer.
“You have to control your dog,” Rice said to Rumsfeld angrily, “That’s the third time today he’s done that!”
“Hey, he doesn’t like buttons and switches,” Rumsfeld answered, “What am I supposed to do?”
“Hello, Condi,” Bush said angrily as he entered the war room, Ichi following close behind him.
“Oh, you’re alive,” Rice with disappointment.
“That’s right; it takes more than a couple terrorists to stop ‘ole Dubya. Now why did you try to kill me?” he asked, “Is it like your time of the month or something?”
“Rarr!” Rice exclaimed and then hit a button on a controller. A door opened up and in entered a number of giant robots. “These are my military death machines,” Rice explained, “With them I will achieve military victories you only dreamed of. Then I, Condoleezza Rice, will be known as the savior of America! All shall bow before me!”
Bush looked at robots warily. “We got trouble, Ichi.”
“Describe them to me.”
“They’re eight feet tall, have glowing red eyes, and gattling guns for each arm. Now pull out your sword and cut them up good. Chop, chop, Ichi. Ichi?” He looked around and couldn’t see Zatoichi anywhere. “For a blind man, he sure can run fast.”
The robots approached Bush. “Rumsfeld, do something!” Bush pleaded.
“Hey, I stay out of this politics stuff; this is between you and Dr. Rice.”
Bush noticed Chomps nearby chewing apart a metal folding chair. “Hey, Chomps, go bite these robots. Do it now! As your president, I command you!”
“Ordering Chomps around really makes him angry,” Rumsfeld warned.
Chomps started growling at Bush. “Uh oh.”

“In other news today, the President Bush has been declared incapacitated as he is currently pinned up in a tree on the White House lawn by Chomps, holder of the title of the world’s angriest dog by the Guinness Book of World Records.” A file photo of Chomps tearing the treads off a Russian tank appeared on screen. “Next in line for presidency would be Dick Cheney, but, his location being undisclosed, no one can find him to swear him in. Instead, National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice has declared herself Empress. This is an unprecedented move and highly unconstitutional…”
A large robot appeared behind the anchorman and pressed a gattling gun against his head. “…but you have to praise Empress Rice for her initiative. All hail Empress Rice. By the way, war has been declared on all countries that begin with the letter ‘s’. So, if your country begins with letter ‘s’, remember: resistance is futile. Now let’s all join in singing our new national anthem in praise of Empress Rice.”
TO BE CONTINUED…