From the Brand New Thriller by James “Potboiler” Patterson and “Honest” Bill Clinton. Patterson has blasted through 49 books in his young career, he hasn’t had an idea that he hasn’t written a book about. And Sax Master Bill is the husband of Hillary Clinton, 2nd choice USA President, and before that the President himself for 8 long years of carpet bombing and minimum sentencing. Now they’ve set their great minds together to write a thriller full of political espionage, intrigue and small bladders.
The oath I swore when I was inaugurated as President was to do whatever I say fit to protect this Beautiful nation. But at this House Hearing, I felt like I was the only one that cared.
These weak-willed, yellow bellied pencil pusher on The Hill would rather play it safe than take action. “The intel isn’t strong enough” Senator Wizeal had said. The intel isn’t strong? Do they think the great brave men of Bravo Team had just scribbled it on a cocktail napkin and tossed it over to us without a care. Bravo Team fought hard for this intel. They made sacrifices that we, as Americans, will forever be in their debt for, although we will never truly know what the heroes’ names were. But America will be grateful. Because I am grateful. And I am the President of this great nation.
Sen. Wizeal on the other hand treats this country like an old folks’ home. A retirement centre where he doesn’t want to be disturbed. But what’d be worse: a police presence for a few days and some days of being vigilant and alert or to be dead? Call me old fashioned but I don’t wanna die. If my survival and continued pursuit of happiness means killing a handful of jihadis than that’s fine by me.
Sen.Wizeal was running his old mouth, he wanted to keep me here in this bloated Hearing than in the War Room making preparations. But the Senator talked the speed a one fingered man would type. “We can’t shut down the State Fair. Don’t you realise that the State Fair is the lifeblood of the community?” he droned “It’s the best chance many vendors, fry cooks and carnies have of making the lionshare of their income. I can’t allow that to be stopped for anything.”
He doesn’t get it. The honest Joes of the fair would rather take a raincheck than have to go home in many small body bags. But he doesn’t know what I know. Mahmood Al Jazeer doesn’t care about money, incomes or our beloved capitalism. He’d love to bomb a state fair so it’d resemble the rubble and dirt of his shithole country. But this wasn’t on Sen. Wizeal’s Security Clearance and to tell him would be to sacrifice many covert agents. So I had to endure the hot air of his filibuster.
Our hearing had started over three hours ago. By that time I’d drank over two jugs of American still water on top of the pint of milk and quart of OJ I had for breakfast and I was beginning to feel it putting up a fight below my stomach. “Oh please” I thought “Shut your mouth and let us be done with this pointless charade”. But I bit my tongue. It was a shame I wasn’t able to bite anything down below. I considered catching the fleshy lips of my penis in my zipper but forgoed that when I remembered I was circumcised. My bladder was swelling at an alarming rate but I knew more than anyone else here that were I to leave or excuse myself that would been seen by all as a sign of surrender.
But yet Sen. Wizeal continued to prattle on, now he was talking about the many deep fried food he and his constituents would enjoy on the thoroughfare. “Corn dog, delicious fried butter balls, a frozen Dr. Pepper or perhaps some chicken fries.” I couldn’t take it any longer, I’ve shifted and squirmed but there was no turning back the tide and the piss started trickling down my leg. The warmth and moisture dribbling through my suit trousers. I folded my legs in away that sent most of my stream towards the inner corner of the desk. I just let it flow. It was all I could do. Even the President can burst a pipe. But I did it to save this great state. Though no one would ever believe that. I knew I’d need some bigger scandal to avoid my legacy being tarnished as the “Piss Prez”. Maybe I could fuck some reporter.