Any resemblance to the former president is purely intentional.
President Ronald Dumpt knew he had to make a decision. The Joint Chiefs of Staff showed him a big poster board with a map that had evil cartoon characters. cartoon ships, cartoon tanks, cartoon cannons, a cartoon atom bomb dropping out of the sky, cartoon explosions, big cartoon holes in the ground with cartoon dead people lying all around.
The President wondered why they don’t make cartoons like Peanuts anymore. He liked to imagine himself as Lucy snatching back the football just as Charlie Brown was about to kick it. Now those were some real cartoons. He liked to imagine himself as Snoopy flying on the airplane doghouse and shooting enemy planes down. He threw his red tie over his shoulders and grabbed an imaginary stick in front of him. Take that, bloody Red Baron!
“Mr. President! Mr. President!”
“Huh? Don’t ever interrupt me when I’m thinking! I’m smarter than all of you! What were we talking about?”
“Well, Mr. President, we have highly credible intelligence that an all-around nuclear war is about to break out in the Mideast, like we told you yesterday and the day before that. We urgently need a decision, Sir!”
“The Mideast? Where’s that, Kansas? Hey, how about those Chiefs? You know, right before the game, everyone around me at my resort started singing the national anthem and I was just so bored. So many beautiful women standing around, all 10s, hand over their boobies, and I kept waving at them, wanting to grab them by …”
“Sorry, Mr. President, no. Israel and Iran with its newly developed nuclear bomb capacity are readying their missiles for action. Peace talks are breaking down. It’s a matter of great urgency, Sir! Massive oil supplies could be ignited, engulfing the entire region in …”
“No way, my son-in-law just released his plan for peace over there. That should settle down the kippahs and the ragheads. You know, I was talking to Bibi just the other day. Bibi, I said, why are they always out to get us? You should just dissolve the Parliament and impose … what do you call it … marsh … oh hell, army rule like I would do. Hell, like I’m actually going to do pretty soon here.”
“I think you mean martial law, Mr. President. Really? Oh, wait, we need to get back to the Mideast where there’s a real possibility of a nuclear conflagration.” The Chief pointed to the big cartoon holes in the ground with all the dead cartoon people lying around them.
“Confla-what? How many times have I told you not to use words with more than three syllables? And why aren’t we using our nukes? What a waste of money, all those missiles just lying around. We could drop a big one on the aiyatooly and wipe out a lot of Muslims at the same time, right? Protect the kippahs too. You know I moved the embassy to Jerusalem, right? America first! Drop the big one on Mexico too. Rudy played me a song the other day, what did it say, oh yeah – ‘Drop the big one, there’ll be no one left to blame us’ – I like that. I like that a lot.”
“We advise against that, Mr. President. There would be a lot of bad second- and third- order consequences.”
“Conse-what? What did I just tell you about too many syllables? Somebody told me the other day that syllables is a three-syllable word so that’s okay, okay? Okay, bring me that box thing. Time to get this over with.”
“Sir, we respectfully disagree but, well, you’re the President. We need to go find the box thing.”
The Chiefs left the room. President Dumpt turned on Fox News only to see a Democrat on and got enraged. The tweets flowed. The Chiefs never came back. The President forgot about it.
Short Shorts 