“Reporter Edward Lee Pitts was found dead, apparently strangled to death,” the anchorwoman said, “A note was found next to his body reading, ‘You plant a question, I plant my hands around your neck. I am Secretary of War Donald Rumsfeld!’ Some are saying this may be an attack by the mysterious serial killer the Rumsfeld Strangler. In an unrelated story, we now go live to Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld being asked questions from Marines.”
“Actually, I believe Edward Lee Pitts planted a questions with a soldier in a previous questions answering session with Rumsfeld,” said the anchorman, “So the stories are kinda related.”
“Hey, you’re right. What a funny coincidence.”

“Now, I know you Marines must have many questions, so please ask away,” Rumsfeld told the assembled Marines.
There was only silence.
“Don’t you have any questions?”
“As long as we know who we’re supposed to kill, we’re good,” Buck the Marine said.
“Ooh-rah!” the Marines shouted in unison.
“Well I have some time to fill,” Rumsfeld stated, “So think of something.”
The Marines thought for a moment. “The Army guys say they want more armor for their vehicles,” eventually said one Marine, “Can we trade them our armor for beer?”
“Beer! Beer!” the Marines shouted.
“No beer!” Rumsfeld answered, “The Muslims won’t allow it.”
“Can we shoot the Muslims?” asked another Marine.
“No, that’s not allowed.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know!” Rumsfeld grumbled, “I don’t make the policies!”
“Now, I was wondering how you can continue to…” a reporter started to say before being shot by Rumsfeld.
“Only Marines get to ask questions!” Rumsfeld yelled, putting his gun back in its holster under his suit jacket.
“Can we shoot reporters?” a Marine asked.
“No. You have to be Secretary of War to do that. Any other questions?”
“A reporter tried to tell me to ask a question,” said another Marine, “but I didn’t like the look of him so I done strangled him. Is that okay?”
“I’m not one to criticize another for strangling a reporter,” Rumsfeld answered.
“I’m getting tired of killing these Muslim extremists,” Buck the Marine said, “Can we get to killing some Communists soon?”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Rumsfeld replied patiently, “but you go to war with the enemy you have, not the enemy you might want or wish to have. Any other questions?”
“I have one about beer.”
“No more questions about beer!”
“Uh… I have one about whiskey.”
“Question session is over!” Rumsfeld announced, “Go forth and kill people.”
“Ooh-rah!” the Marines shouted before leaving.
Rumsfeld turned to see Detective Ian Competent approaching him along with some police.
“We have some questions for you about the strangling of reporter Edward Lee Pitts,” Ian said.
“I don’t have time questions,” Rumsfeld answered, “Too busy strangling dumb reporters.”
“Good enough,” Ian said as Rumsfeld walked off.
“I’m getting tired of this investigating,” one of the officers said, “I hear that serial killers are usually quiet white guys. Let’s just arrest a quiet white guy and call the case closed.”
“I’m the detective and I’ll say whom we arrest!” Ian shouted angrily. He then thought for a moment. “Let’s go to the library; there are lots of quiet people there.”