Mission Accomplished

“Mr. President, don’t you think we should leave this to the professionals?” Ex-president George W. Bush’s personal assistant had a bad feeling.

“Nonsense.” said the ex-president. He had just successfully guided the most powerful country in the history of the world through some joyful and productive times. The world was a better place because of him. He was sure of it. The voices in his head agreed.

He climbed out of his car to be immediately surrounded by his security detail. The scrum of black suits and dark glasses shuffled towards the crime scene, a local Seven-Eleven.

A tide of handguns and earphones parted as the newest sheriff in town took center stage. Bush paused to make sure his badge was visible. He had made himself Sheriff by proclamation during the ride over. His assistant had expressed some doubts about his authority to do so. Bush had brushed it off citing “executive privilege.”

“Now listen here, I want everyone to tell me what they saw,” he said addressing a crowd of people gathering around.

The store clerk came out to see why Slurpy sales had suddenly dropped off. His head was wrapped in a towel stemming the flow of blood caused by being hit on the head with a week-old ham sandwich the robber had found in the deli section and subsequently used as a blunt object.

The ex-president, a man of action, responded to the presence of the clerk by quickly reaching under the jacket of the nearest secret service agent and pulling out a large handgun. He pointed it at the clerk and shot him dead on the spot.

The crowd was stunned.

“Are there any questions?”

There were none.

“Mission accomplished!” he announced proudly.

‘Good work’ said the voices in his head.

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