What happens when our favorite *cough, cough* American president falls into
Middle Earth. Sort of self-explanatory.
And please note- I actually don't think that the president is a fool. He's okay. I just happen to be playing off the popular sentiments of young liberals.
~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~
George W. Bush was not having a good day. Congress did not want to drop a bunch of those big kablooey thingies (what were they called again?) on that guy in the Mid East; the Secret Service had discovered another group of liberals trying to assassinate him; and the bakery down the street were out of his favorite doughnuts.
He felt like shooting a bunch of squirrels.
So, it was very annoying indeed when an aide came in and told him that the Secretary of Defense needed to see him right away, and sorry Mr. President but it really can't wait until after your umpteenth cup of coffee.
He marched into the Oval Office and glared at Donald Rumsfield. "What is it now, Rumsfield? I told you Iraq could wait until after luncheon."
Rumsfield peered at him gravely. "I'm afraid we have a bit of a crisis here, Bush. Our intelligence sources report that Saddam Hussien is planning to drop nuclear weapons on the White House-"
"See! I told you! But no... the American people just won't believe it when it comes from me, will they..."
"Ahem. May I continue? Well, like I was going to finish, they said the bombs would fall in about" -he checked his watch- "half an hour."
"WHAT?"
"Oh- wait, sorry. Fifteen minutes."
"What! You call me up to say that I'm about to be annihilated by some wacko in the Middle East that tried to kill my daddy and is now trying to kill me, and there's absolutely nothing I can do, right?"
Rumsfield peered at him seriously. "Don't be ridiculous, George. There's always something you can do." He paused. "I hear reruns of the Super Bowl are on."
An aide, carrying a stack of defense papers, waited patiently at the door as the president set up two folding chairs and the secretary of defense adjusted the satellite dish.
"You see," the aide remarked to a nearby security guard, "this is the reason for the failing of western society as we know it."
~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~
Donald was having a fine time with the popcorn, George noted sourly. He could not help but feel a tad worried, however. What was going to happen?
All of a sudden he felt an immense pressure and an indescribable feeling of doomsday. However, instead of going to heaven or hell or wherever, Bush felt a warm sun on the back of his neck. He opened his eyes.
He was lying on a grassy hill. It seemed to be summertime, and Rumsfield was nowhere to be seen. Bush stood up. Looking around, he realized that this could all be a devious plan of Saddam's- to lull him into submission by weirding him out.
Bush started walking towards the next bend, where some smoke was rising in the air and there seemed to be some sign of life. He was astonished to find a little village of miniature houses, and... little people, scurrying around everywhere.
George approached the nearest little person warily. He tapped the person on the back, and it spun around. "One of the Big People!" it cried.
Suddenly Bush was surrounded by a mass of those- those little people. He began to panic slightly as they jostled him, all in one direction. He suspected that they were part of a rural Al-Qaeda legion. Everything pointed in that direction- the stunted growth, the lack of basic items such as shoes, and the fact that they did not immediately acknowledge him as leader of the most powerful country in the world.
One of the little people handed him a curiously shaped pipe, filled with some substance- obviously some sort of tranquilizer. It was pathetic how unoriginal these people were.
"Where are you taking me?" Bush asked of one of the nearby little people.
It answered in a strange accent- they all had accents- "We are taking you to Bag End!"
Ah, Bush thought, clearly their local dialect for Baghdad. These terrorists really needed to work on their intelligence secrecy.
~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~
A/N: Yes... off to Bag End/dad they go... who will be there to meet with him?
And please note- I actually don't think that the president is a fool. He's okay. I just happen to be playing off the popular sentiments of young liberals.
~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~
George W. Bush was not having a good day. Congress did not want to drop a bunch of those big kablooey thingies (what were they called again?) on that guy in the Mid East; the Secret Service had discovered another group of liberals trying to assassinate him; and the bakery down the street were out of his favorite doughnuts.
He felt like shooting a bunch of squirrels.
So, it was very annoying indeed when an aide came in and told him that the Secretary of Defense needed to see him right away, and sorry Mr. President but it really can't wait until after your umpteenth cup of coffee.
He marched into the Oval Office and glared at Donald Rumsfield. "What is it now, Rumsfield? I told you Iraq could wait until after luncheon."
Rumsfield peered at him gravely. "I'm afraid we have a bit of a crisis here, Bush. Our intelligence sources report that Saddam Hussien is planning to drop nuclear weapons on the White House-"
"See! I told you! But no... the American people just won't believe it when it comes from me, will they..."
"Ahem. May I continue? Well, like I was going to finish, they said the bombs would fall in about" -he checked his watch- "half an hour."
"WHAT?"
"Oh- wait, sorry. Fifteen minutes."
"What! You call me up to say that I'm about to be annihilated by some wacko in the Middle East that tried to kill my daddy and is now trying to kill me, and there's absolutely nothing I can do, right?"
Rumsfield peered at him seriously. "Don't be ridiculous, George. There's always something you can do." He paused. "I hear reruns of the Super Bowl are on."
An aide, carrying a stack of defense papers, waited patiently at the door as the president set up two folding chairs and the secretary of defense adjusted the satellite dish.
"You see," the aide remarked to a nearby security guard, "this is the reason for the failing of western society as we know it."
~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~
Donald was having a fine time with the popcorn, George noted sourly. He could not help but feel a tad worried, however. What was going to happen?
All of a sudden he felt an immense pressure and an indescribable feeling of doomsday. However, instead of going to heaven or hell or wherever, Bush felt a warm sun on the back of his neck. He opened his eyes.
He was lying on a grassy hill. It seemed to be summertime, and Rumsfield was nowhere to be seen. Bush stood up. Looking around, he realized that this could all be a devious plan of Saddam's- to lull him into submission by weirding him out.
Bush started walking towards the next bend, where some smoke was rising in the air and there seemed to be some sign of life. He was astonished to find a little village of miniature houses, and... little people, scurrying around everywhere.
George approached the nearest little person warily. He tapped the person on the back, and it spun around. "One of the Big People!" it cried.
Suddenly Bush was surrounded by a mass of those- those little people. He began to panic slightly as they jostled him, all in one direction. He suspected that they were part of a rural Al-Qaeda legion. Everything pointed in that direction- the stunted growth, the lack of basic items such as shoes, and the fact that they did not immediately acknowledge him as leader of the most powerful country in the world.
One of the little people handed him a curiously shaped pipe, filled with some substance- obviously some sort of tranquilizer. It was pathetic how unoriginal these people were.
"Where are you taking me?" Bush asked of one of the nearby little people.
It answered in a strange accent- they all had accents- "We are taking you to Bag End!"
Ah, Bush thought, clearly their local dialect for Baghdad. These terrorists really needed to work on their intelligence secrecy.
~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~~ ~~
A/N: Yes... off to Bag End/dad they go... who will be there to meet with him?