[Benning Boy]

Barry rubbed his temples. Advisers flitted about, arguing, and jockeying for his attention. Barry's head felt like it was about to explode.

"alright, Alright, ALRIGHT!!! Everyone out! I'll get back to you individually."

The advisers exchanged butt-hurt glances, gathered sheafs of papers, and left in a muffled swish of Brooks Brother's suits.

Barry's head down, loosening the tie that was choking his life out of him, the tie that went with the suit that went with the job that he no longer wanted.

He stared at the Rasmussen polls, his popularity was in the crapper. He reached under the desk, ah, the pack of Kools taped under the drawer. He lit one up.

A deep drag, he crumpled up the poll sheet, rapped to himself, Kurtis Blow's "Basketball". He had a wastebasket at the other side of the office, practiced his three pointers from the desk. He turned away, began his commentary.

"Barry's deep, oh he faked out Jordan, he spins at the three point line, and he..."

As he spun, he saw an old man sitting at the desk. He stopped in mid shot.

"Who the Hell are you? I said everyone out!"

He looked closer, and recognized the face of Ronald Wilson Reagan.

[Benning Boy]

"What the?"

"Hello, Barry."

The voice was calm, measured, familiar.

"But you're..."

"Yes, Barry. I know. Dead. Like you are inside. But I came back to give you a hand."

Barry walked around the figure, never shifting his gaze.

The Gipper spoke.

"Barry, I'm back for 24 hours, to help you. I'm gonna make things right. I'm gonna make you the most popular President that ever lived.

Barry's mouth opened, unable to close it. Reagan stands up, embraces him, and assimilates into Barry's body.

Barry straightens his tie, picks up the paper, throws it over his shoulder, straight into the trash can.

Swish.

He picks up the phone.

[Benning Boy]

The phone in the opulent Tehran office rang. The red one.

Mahmoud looked up from his copy of "Mein Kampf", stared at it. That phone never rings.

He stroked his moustache, put his hand on it, paused, picked it up.

"Ah len?"

"Durka durka, mother******. It's the President of the U.S., and I'm gonna Barack your world!"

Mahmoud's jaw dropped.

"Now listen up close. You have 24 hours to cease all hostilities with Israel. You're gonna call for a Beer Summit, and you're gonna issue an apology. If you don't, I turn Persia into glass. Peace."

Mahmoud sat with his jaw agape, holding the phone for a very long time.

[Troy Michalik]

go on. . . . . . . . . . . . .

[Benning Boy]

Mogadishu.

The SEALs secured the last of the pirates, established a SATCOM link. The pirate dinghy floated, but did nothing else.

The SEALS looked upward as the extraction chopper hovered, when a line came down.

A voice from above. "Man on rappel!"

The squad leader, confused, took the rope in hand. "Man on belay!"

A tall figure, in a Swiss seat, plummeted toward him, stopping just above his head. He lowered slowly the rest of the way.

The SEALs snapped to attention, saluted. Barry saluted back, snappier than usual.

"Good job, men. We're gonna release these guys now."

The SEALs made no attempt to hide their disgust. Barry pulled out a knife, started cutting the zip ties that bound the pirates. They rose, smiling.

Barry got to the leader, and the leader held out his bound hands for emancipation. Barry smiled. He raised the knife to the zip tie, and kept going, to the pirates throat.

Shock on the piratres face as Barry worked the blade into the corners of his mouth, giving him a Glasgow smile, breaking the jaw, and reaching in to push the pirate's tongue down his throat, pulling it out the hole, in a ghastly necktie.

Barry looked at the rest of the pirates.

"Tell the rest of those mother******s if they attack one more ship, hell, if I hear of them fishing without a liscence, I'm coming back, and I'll kill them all and sleep with their women. Your women will forget you when I Barack their guts!" He wiggled his hips, profanely, as the pirates cried.

[CA357]

You had me at Durka, Durka.

[Davyboy]

Keep going pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese

[Benning Boy]

Nancy decided the lipstick was too cruel. Something softer.

She was looking into the mirror at the ravages of age when the office door swung open wide.

She looked up, smiled, rose. "Bar..Mr. President, what a surprise!"

Barry entered, smile huge, press corps following, flashbulbs.

He took his place beside her, the pair mugging for the cameras, and he spoke.

I have a surprise for Nancy, as well as all of America," he said, grasping her hand.

Barry gestured, an aide brought a sequinned halter top, mini skirt, and a pair of really loud pumps. He handed them to her.

"Nancy here has been reassigned as my special envoy to Gitmo. The detainee's diet will now include megadoses of male enhancement products, and Nancy will be tending to their individual needs. This is part of my new "Two Birds with One Stone" philosophy.

Barry turned and walked away, shouting over his shoulder, "Good Luck, Trick."

[Maverick]

Originally Posted by Benning Boy

Nancy decided the lipstick was too cruel. Something softer.

She was looking into the mirror at the ravages of age when the office door swung open wide.

She looked up, smiled, rose. "Bar..Mr. President, what a surprise!"

Barry entered, smile huge, press corps following, flashbulbs.

He took his place beside her, the pair mugging for the cameras, and he spoke.

I have a surprise for Nancy, as well as all of America," he said, grasping her hand.

Barry gestured, an aide brought a sequinned halter top, mini skirt, and a pair of really loud pumps. He handed them to her.

"Nancy here has been reassigned as my special envoy to Gitmo. The detainee's diet will now include megadoses of male enhancement products, and Nancy will be tending to their individual needs. This is part of my new "Two Birds with One Stone" philosophy.

Barry turned and walked away, shouting over his shoulder, "Good Luck, Trick."

Wouldnt this fall under "Cruel and Unusual" (to the inmates)............LOL

[Benning Boy]

Michelle was wrapping up her speech to a capacity crowd at the Health and Nutrition Institute. Barry smiled, giving polite applause when appropriate.

"And so, in conclusion, if we follow these steps, together we can put an end to childhood obesity."

Applause.

"Now please welcome my husband, our President."

Applause.

Barry took the podium. He stared vacantly at the words on the screen in front of him.

"Turn off the teleprompter."

His delegation looked nervously at each other. The man by the prompter shrugged, turned it off.

Barry removed his jacket, pulled out a wallet. He pulled some bills out, leaned over, whispered to an aide. The aide took the money, nodded, and ran off.

"You know, your breath won't get stinky, if you eat one damn Twinkie."

The crowd rustled.

"There ain't nothing wrong, with a chocolate ding dong."

The crowd smiled. The larger people nodded.

Your heart rate won't slow, with a Hostess HoHo."

A large black woman stood, and bellowed joyously, "Say it, Brother!"

"For your entire childhood, your parents dictated what you ate. You went to school, and you ate what they dictated. Some of you joined the military, and you got those little brown plastic meals."

A few shouts of "Amen".

"Now, you're a grown azzed adult! And the government wants to tell you what to eat! I say no more!"

The crowd screams, rises to it's collective feet.

"I say Little Debbie! Show me the light! Krispy Kreme! You are my salvation!"

The aide returned, two large plastic bags full of snack cakes. The aide throws them into the crowd, people bite through the plastic to get to them.

"If the Lord gives you lemons, he also gives you sugar to make lemonade! Eat and multiply!!!!"

The crowd goes berserk. They trample the skinny guard at the door, spill out onto the streets, raiding the first fast food restaurant they can find.

Barry pops the cap on a bottle of olive oil, and looks at Michelle.

"Come here, girl."