“Hey, kids, I’d love to do my imitation again, but it ain’t good for my equipment.”
“Please big American!” the Iraqi kids pleaded.
“Well, alright,” Buck the Marine said. He then dropped his rifle, raised his hands, and shouted, “J’ai une odeur comme le fromage!”
The children all laughed and clapped their hands.
“Pick that rifle back up!” came a stern voice from behind Buck.
He took his rifle and turned around to see Condoleezza Rice. “Hey, you’re that National Security Advisor.”
“Yes, and I’m now in charge of stabilization in Iraq and Afghanistan,” Condi answered, “I’ve decided to take a hands on approach.” She turned to an Iraqi loitering nearby. “What are you doing?”
“Sitting on a barrel.”
“Don’t sit on that barrel!” She looked around. “Sit on that barrel over there.”
“Okay.”
Condi watched carefully as the Iraqi moved his sitting place to the other barrel. “Excellent.”
“Do you really need to micro-manage like that?” Buck asked.
“I will not be questioned!” Condi yelled. She then turned to one of the children. “How old are you?”
“Seven.”
“That’s old enough to make me coffee; get to it! And, as for the rest of you kids, you need to start work on rebuilding that bridge over the river to the east.”
“But we don’t know…”
“I said go build a bridge!” Condi screamed and raised her hand ready to strike. The kids ran away in fear.
“Should I help the kids,” asked the loitering Iraqi.
“I told you to sit on that barrel and you’re going to stay on that barrel!” Condi yelled. She then composed herself and looked to Buck. “I cannot have a stabilized Iraq unless people do as I say unquestioningly. Now, I have a job for you, Buck. I hear there are still some terrorists left here and I need you to deal with them.”
“I will do my best, ma’am.”
“I want them all dead by tomorrow morning. My carefully laid plans need all evil people in Iraq dead by tomorrow.”
“Uh… okay, ma’am… uh… all of them?”
“I think I made that clear!” Condi said curtly. “You’ll have help from the U.N., by the way. I’ve brought with me the award winning U.N. peacekeeper Chomps, the world’s angriest dog.”
Chomps, wearing his blue helmet, came running up to Condi’s side and looking quite angry at everything. “This heat makes him grumpy,” Condi explained.
Chomps started barking at the sun. He stopped after the light stung his eyes too much, but then recovered and barked at the sun again.
“So just to be clear, ma’am, my job is to kill all terrorists in Iraq within twenty-four hours?” Buck asked dubiously.
“By tomorrow morning; you better not take twenty-four hours!” Condi warned.
Buck prepped his rifle. “Yes, ma’am!”

“You’re going to have to kill a lot of terrorists with your teeth,” Buck told Chomps, “because I don’t think I have enough bullets.”
Chomps savagely mangled a patch of sand that angered him somehow.
“Quiet, Chomps,” Buck whispered, “I think I her me some for’ners.”
From a nearby cave, they could hear some voices.
“We must kill the American invaders!” said one man.
“We need to get all American and Jews out of the Middle East,” said another, “Then we can once again be a true Islamic region and go back to just killing each other.”
“That will be great,” answered the first, “but did you just drop a small green pineapple?”

“All them Islamic terrorists is going to be bad for your stomach,” Buck told Chomps, “Why don’t you chase that down with a pork chop.”
He threw the piece of meat to Chomps who ate it greedily.
“Well, I’m out of ammo and my knife needs sharpening,” Buck said, “Hopefully we got all them terrorists ’cause I’m starting to get tired.”
They trekked back to town just as the sun was rising. “Are all the terrorists dead?” was their greeting by Condi when they arrived.
“I think so,” Buck answered, “During the night, we went all around Iraq killing anyone who was too foreign. There was a lot of them, but they’s dead now. Usually kill’n gets me pumped up, but I’m pretty tuckered out about now. So how is the rebuilding?”
“Well, the school, the hospital, and the police station are behind schedule,” Condi admitted, “but my palace is nearly done.” She pointed to a giant palace that everyone was busy at work on. She then spotted something. “What is that? Syrians are getting in here! I thought you killed all the terrorist, Buck!”
“Well, I got all I could find here, but there’s more that keep coming in from Syria.”
“Then you go into Syria and you kill everyone thinking of coming into Iraq,” Condi commanded, “There are some nice Jewish boys in Israel who can probably help you with that.”
“Can’t I get a nap first and then kill all bad people,” Buck asked. Chomps whimpered, him being so tired he barely looked angry.
Condi rolled her eyes. “Fine. Take a quick nap and then invade Syria.”
“Can I stop sitting on this barrel?” asked the Iraqi behind her.
“When I told you to sit on that barrel I had good reason!” Condi shot back. She then looked to the people working on her palace. “More gold inlays!”