It Really Is Like This

The President brooded darkly in the Oval Office. Clearly, his erectile dysfunction was going to cost some country dearly. But which one? Needing sage counsel, he summoned the Secretary of Handing Out Billions of Tax Dollars to Defense Contractors to his office. "Who can we blast?" he snarled.

"How about England? They're getting pretty smug about being in tight with us. Maybe it's time for a smackdown in ol' Londontown?" grinned the Secretary.

"Yeah! I like it! It works for me!" squealed the President.

"That's not what I hear," snickered the Secretary.

Luckily, the President didn't get it. "So what's our cover story?"

The Secretary stroked his chin. "That's going to be hard one," he said... then started giggling again.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing, sorry..."

The President had an idea, and beamed with pride. "Listen to this: we found out the British have been hiding Hitler since the end of World War II! Huh? Huh? What do you think?"

"Um, well, sir..."

"You don't like it."

"It kind of sucks."

"Yeah. I thought it would."

"Don't feel bad, it was a good try."

"No, I suck at this, everyone's always smarter than me, and better, and funnier, and... and smarter, and—"

"Well, look, sir, we could just do what we usually do..."

"What's that?"

"Bomb the shit out of 'em and come up with a reason afterwards. Besides, there's a lot less arguing that way."

"I like how you think. Keep it up, and you'll have my job someday."

"If you could keep it up, we'd all be out of a job," murmured the Secretary.

The President reached for the phone. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing, Mr. President. Now dial M for murder."