Bubba's Day Out

 I dipped into my study attached to oval office.

“Mr. President, Saddam Hussein is causing havoc in the Middle East again, we need to choose a course of action immediately!”  exclaimed my top security adviser.

“You think I don't watch CNN, fool? Just give me the options.”

“One option that we can try is diplomacy, we’ll send Madeline Albright over to work out a treaty that will satisfy both parties”

“No, Albright  isn't tough enough, we need someone more firm.”  I told my top security adviser, who I nicknamed Dicky, because he always had a five o'clock shadow like Richard Nixon.

“How about Janet Reno, she won't take no gruff.”

“Janet may be a good lay, but she is no negotiator, she'll attack Saddam and before you know it he'll use his chemical weapons on this good country of ours.  What other options do we have at our disposal?”

“Well Mr. President we could. . .”

“Please call me Bubba the Chief Boot Knocka.” I interrupted.

“O.K. Mr. Boot Knocker, another option at your disposal is a full-scale invasion of Iraq, blitzkrieg style.  By the time Saddam realizes what is happening it will be all over.  I highly recommend this method.”

“Listen,” I told Dicky, “thousands of our soldiers could die in a full-scale invasion, and if Saddam declares a jihad it would be disastrous.  Also, too many innocent Iraqi citizens would suffer from the air strikes.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Boot Knocker, but I highly recommend this method, I believe that it would end this conflict the quickest.”

“Don't get cocky with me, Dicky! what other option do we have?”  I never liked to yell at my staff like this, but I needed to get my point across.

“Well Mr. Boot Knocker there is another option, but it is extreme and has never been done before.”

“What is it Dicky?” I probed.
 

“Well our other option is Espionage, specifically, the assassination of Saddam.  The CIA has been training an agent to do the job.  He has been training for a long time, he has my full faith.”

  “No Dicky, I think that I am the only one prepared for this mission.  I have seen every Bond movie made and have read all the books, I am the only one truly prepared for this mission.”

  “All right Mr. Chief boot Knocker, if it must be, tomorrow morning you will receive a briefing on this hazardous journey.”

I was nervous but I knew that it was for the good of this great country that I was proud to be President of.  Maybe it  was the residual guilt for dodging the draft a long time ago, but I had to keep the world safe from this maniac.  I had to tell those who were important to me what was going to undertake this mission.  The first one I was going to tell was my bitch.

“Come here Buddy, here boy, I got something important to tell you.  I am going to be leaving in order to save the world  from a lunatic, you understand, right?”  I could tell that my dog was understanding of me, I just had to find the right way to tell Hillary and Chelsea.

First I went to my computer, my trusty ProGen (damned budget cutbacks!) in order to send an e-mail to Chelsea.  I was nervous but it went a little something like this:

To: cclinton@stanford.edu
From: ChiefBK@whitehouse.govS
ubject: Here’s Bubba
 

Chelsea,

     So, how is school?  Things have been hectic at the White House, but, what’s new :-)
Anyways have you tried those drink recipes I sent to you yet?  Personally, I just like to kick
back with a 40 oz. Of OE with Janet “hot lips” Reno.Have you seen that crazy Hussein Guy
on TV?  Well, I’ma goin’ to his palace and killin’ him. oX-P (Saddam with a bullet hole in his forehead)

Love,
Daddy

“You know I love you Hillary.” Right after I said those words I felt something brushing against my leg, Hillary must be feeling frisky tonight! I grabbed her hands and held them in mind and looked right into her dazzling eyes, lost in their beauty.  “Well well, Hill-Dogg (that was my nickname for her) that felt good baby.”

“What are you talking about?” Hill-Dogg asked.

I realized that it wasn't her who was rubbing my leg, so I reached down and found out that it was Socks.

“Shit!” I thought, I had been ignoring Socks ever since I got Buddy and I could tell that Socks was upset that she was out of the loop.  “Just ta minute honey, let me put Socks out for the night. “While I did I explained the situation to Socks, and I could tell that she understood, now I had to go back to tell Hillary.  I took a deep breath and told her the truth. “Hillary, this is the visualization step and I need to tell you why I am going to Iraq to personally take care of Saddam Hussein.”

“What are you talking about?” she exclaimed.

“Remember back in Arkansas when I ran over a poor possum with my rusty '67 Chevy on a back road? Remember how tasty it was? Hold on, I am getting sidetracked.  Do you remember how not only it was one possum, but clinging to the possum were the little baby possums?  Remember how tasty they were? Sorry, getting sidetracked again.  Remember how upset you were to see the disfigured possum's white coat stained with the dry burgundy blood  of its children, how seeing it's innards splattered on the road almost made you throw up? Well think into the future and what it will be like if I don't rid our planet of the Saddam menace.  Millions of people suffering from anthrax, victims of a biological warfare being waged on innocent citizens.  God forbid if  Iraq has any nuclear weapons and decides to use them.  People would have their eyeballs melted out of their sockets, there skin and hair falling out in clumps as pain envelopes their whole body.  People who suffer from multiple cancers as their own body attacks them. We must stop these of atrocities from ever occurring.  If we don't want to, we will have people lain out like those tasty possums, so I must go over there and take care of business.”

We stood embraced in each other's arms and she cried into my chest as I held her close.  I new that she would be missed by Bubba the chief Boot Knocka but I had to do what I had to do, and I could tell that she understood that.
 

The next morning while Hillary was still sleeping, I got out of bed and went to breakfast where I would receive my briefing.

“Waffles, Jean Luc?  My favorite!  I just love to waffle, I mean I love to eat waffles.”

“Now Listen up Mr. President.  You are to fly to Baghdad, once there you are going to meet a secret operative named Pinocchio.  Accompanying you on this mission will be agent Lotta Head, real name Monica Lewinsky.”

After the briefing Lotta Head and I set off for the helicopter that would take us to Iraq, it was a big military issue that had a large door on the side.  Lotta Head and I were talking and I casually mentioned that we should open the door to look at the view.  As we looked over, I pushed Lotta Head out of the Helicopter into the frigid Atlantic Ocean.

“Tell that one to Kenneth Starr!” I yelled as she fell.  I didn’t worry though, ‘cause I got no love for hoes.  I popped in my new Shania Twain CD, man, is she hot, sat back and took a nap until we reached Baghdad.

We landed on top of the building in Baghdad were I had to meet my contact, Pinocchio.  I hopped out of the helicopter and it took off as I went inside the building.

“Hello, Number One,” Pinocchio exclaimed, or maybe I will call him by his real name, Al. Gore.  “Let’s get down to business.  I obtained a blueprint of Saddam’s palace and have determined if we scale this wall here we can enter through the servants quarters.  From there we have access to Husseins Bedroom where we will kill him in his sleep.”

“No, I want to go through this part of the palace here, then we can sneak our way through the kitchen, past the dining room, around the guards quarters, up the stairs, and then we can kill him in his sleep.”

“Why do you want to go the more difficult way, Number One?”
“Because, Al, this starting point is where the harem is kept, I want to make sure none of those women are, uh, uh...oppressed, yeah, oppressed, that’s it.  Now lets go, Al, we have some Iraqi ass to kick.”
 

We used the night to shield us as we approached the palace, and the several guards that guarded the harem were taken out with our silenced pp7 hand guns.  We made our way into the harem and Al and I had some fun!  I was sure glad that I brought my condom bandolier.  Let me tell you something else, that Al Gore is a friggin’ animal!  Anyway, we continued through the kitchen and grabbed something to drink so I didn’t faint from dehydration.  Through the dining room, we then carefully tiptoed pass the guards quarters.  We thought we were home free when a shot rings out and whizzes past us.  We both turned around and began to fire at the guards, who were firing at us as well.  Al reached to grab a new clip for his gun when a shot hit him in his shoulder.  I watched in horror as his shoulder splintered and detached from his trunk.  I quickly grabbed my nail gun from my utility belt and reattached the shoulder, but it didn’t work as good as before.

“Go!” Al shouted, “Go up the stairs and complete the mission, I will hold off the guards.”  I rewound the crank in Al’s back so he would have enough power to do his duty.  I took one final look back, and headed off to Hussein’s bedroom to deal out some justice. I busted down the door and saw Saddam slumbering in his bed peacefully.  I jumped on the bed and punched him in the face.  I then took my gun and placed it in his mouth.

“Any last requests?”  I requested of Saddam.

Please no shoot me,” he said in his Broken English that was even harder to understand because of the gun barrel that was in his mouth.  “I just follow order, in basement, man you want in basement, he mastermind.  Take secret way in closet to basement, he there, no shoot me n...”

I don’t know what he was going to say next because hi brain was now covering his bed and wall.  I now had another part of the mission to fulfill.  I went to the closet and opened the doorway to the long, winding, staircase, which I proceeded to go down.  When I got to the basement, I saw the back of someone slightly familiar sitting in a large chair in front of an even larger console.  I went up, turned the chair around, and was surprised at who I found.  “You again!”  I exclaimed.

“Yes it is I, and we meet once again you pansy ass bastard.”

I noticed that on the console in front of him was a large red button.  I was about to ask what it was for, when he interrupted me.

“I bet you were wondering what this button is for,” he said gesturing to the button I was just wondering about.  “Once I press this button, a massive flurry of missiles will eradicate the country known as France.”

I couldn’t let this Schmuck press that button, so I planned a course of action. I quickly dashed ahead and grabbed the masterminds arm just before that punk was about to press the button.  I breathed a sigh of relief, and wiped the sweat, the first sweat I had broken since I started this mission, off my brow, then I quickly darted my hand forward and pressed the button.

“I couldn’t let you destroy France, I wanted that honor for myself!  Now, do you have a button that eradicates country music?”

“Uh, no.”

The sound of a bullet whizzing through the air and then ripping through skull and brain tissue broke the silence that followed the denial of a country music destruction button.

I escaped from the palace in the helicopter that was waiting for me outside.  I slept on the way to the White House and woke up as we landed on the lawn.  As I stepped out of the helicopter my bitch was waiting for me on the lawn.  I kinda missed my bitch.

“I made it, Hill-Dogg!  NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!  I said, I said NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!  Now excuse me I am going to pimp slap Kenneth Starr, and after that I’m going to a strip club.  See ya Later!”

(What poor Bill didn’t know was that Hillary was glad to see him leave, after all, she had a hot night planned with a certain Janet Reno.)

Now you, reading this story, wouldn’t that whole scenario be cool?  Wouldn’t you like to see a president take charge, I mean really take charge and run things personally?  Wouldn’t you like to see the smile wiped off Saddam’s face?  Would you like to know who the mastermind of the whole operation was?  I know I would, and if you want to also, there is something you can do.  In a matter of weeks, you need to become a close confidant of Clinton (this is easily achieved if you are a woman or a rich Asian business man) then you have to convince him to take up this mission.  You could also E-mail Clinton and your Congressperson with this entire document so that the public pressure will make him go through with this mission.  Thank You and Goodnight.

Back