“I’m President Bush, and I approve this message I’m now saying,” President Bush said. “People say mean things about me, but they aren’t true as I am a good person. Look as I pet this puppy.”
“That’s a porcupine!” shouted a voice off-screen.
“(bleep)ing (bleep)!” Bush shouted as the screen faded to a black with the words “Re-Elect George W. Bush.”
Bush turned off the T.V. “We’re thinking of doing a retake on that one,” Bush explained to Laura as he rubbed his bandaged hand.
“All these commercials are nice, dear,” Laura said, “but are you also handling the other problems out there like the trouble in Haiti?”
“I don’t have to worry about that,” Bush answered, “I got Secretary of Defense Elaine Chao on top of that one.”
“Elaine Chao isn’t your Secretary of Defense,” Laura told him.
“Well, whoever is Secretary of Defense knows who he or she is and what he or she should be doing,” Bush said defensively, “Anyway, we have Marines in Haiti; they’ll know what they’re supposed to do.”

“What are we supposed to do, Buck?”
“I dunno, Gomez,” Buck the Marine answered, “You know what we’re supposed to be doing, Johnson?”
“Hell, I don’t know.”
“I guess I’ll ask our commanding officer,” Buck said as he took out his radio. “Commanding officer, what are we supposed to be doing, sir?”
“Your supposed to stop people from rebelling,” answered their commanding officer.
“By kill’n them, sir?” Buck asked hopefully.
“By looking scary,” said the commanding officer, “Oh, and guard that box.”
Buck looked at the crate the three of them were standing around. “We’re supposed to look scary and guard this box.”
“But I want to kill someone,” Johnson said.
“We all do,” Buck answered, “but we have our orders.”
Suddenly a number of Haitians ran out into the street firing guns into the air. “Hey! Look at me! I’m scary!” Buck yelled out while looking scary, “Now stop that!”
The Haitians stopped firing their guns and sulked off.
“This is boring,” Gomez said.
Soon some people approached them. “I’m Lefty Stevens for CNN,” said one man followed by a cameraman, “and I heard that you Marines led Aristide away by gunpoint.”
“If I had pointed by gun at anyone, they wouldn’t be walking much longer,” Buck assured him.
“I’m a black man from the Black Caucus,” said a black man from the Black Caucus, “and being that their are black people in this country, I am sure that racist things are going on!”
“Well, I haven’t been racist to nobody,” Buck said, “How about you, Gomez and Johnson.”
“I ain’t been racist.”
“I just like shooting people.”
“We’re Marines,” Buck explained, “We only judge people by whether they’re American of foreign… and, if they are foreign, we don’t judge them long cause they dead.”
“Ooh-rah!” the three shouted.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this!” Lefty swore, “So what’s in that box near you labeled ‘Aristide’?”
Buck shrugged his shoulders. “MRE’s?”
“Help me! I’m in a box!” yelled the box.
“As a black man from the Black Caucus,” said the black man from the Black Caucus, “I’m going to keep my eyes on all you!” He and the news crew then left.
Melinda Hawkish of Fox News then arrived with her cameraman. “Okay, we’re filming, Buck. Start killing people.”
“We ain’t supposed to kill nobody,” Buck answered.
“But that’s boring!” Melinda complained, “How am I supposed to make a story about American heroism if you don’t kill people?”
“Hey, we’re more upset than you,” Gomez said.
A pickup truck then drove up. Out of it stepped Donald Rumsfeld. “I’m here for the box.”
“Please let me out!” cried the box.
Chomps ran at the box, seized in his mouth, and shook it angrily.
“Bad dog!” Rumsfeld yelled, “Be careful with that. I might want to use the box for putting other stuff in later.” Rumsfeld then picked up the crate and threw it in the back of the pickup.
“So what is in that box?” Melinda Hawkish asked as she pointed her microphone at Rumsfeld.
“Reporters,” Rumsfeld grumbled. “Hey, I’m too important to be keeping track of what’s in every box in the world.” He then looked to the Marines. “Shouldn’t you be killing people?”
“We’re just supposed to look scary,” Buck answered.
“People were scarier looking in my day,” Rumsfeld mumbled as he got back in his truck and drove away.
“I guess nothing to see here,” Melinda said as she walked off.
“Now what do we do?” Johnson asked, “Our box is gone.”
“I’ll ask our commanding officer,” Buck said as he took out his radio. “The Secretary of Defense came and took the box. What do we do now, commanding officer, sir.”
“I guess that’s mission accomplished, Buck. Go have some beers.”
“Mission accomplished and we’re supposed to have beers,” Buck told the other two and then added after a few moments thought, “Ooh-rah!”