by Hero Heto
It was many years ago. President Dixon had a couple of brandies
and had a couple of beers. He leaned against a column in the
press room and waved greetings to the stunned reports gathered
there.
"I have sent Henry to talk to the Chinese. He took along some
staffers. One or two of which you'll hear about in decades to come.
Henry, as you know is the most brilliant suck-ass the world has
seen since Metternich," Dixon said wiping sweat from his face.
"Henry, in his own ingenious yet subtly-pompous way will tell the
Chinese that it's okay if Indochina goes communist; we just don't
want to appear to lose. So, Americans, your boys and husbands
are still key to the 'Big Picture.' We seek withdrawal with less
humiliation. And this," He gestured to underline his point, "is
important. Too bad our allies aren't worth a fart in a shit-house. But
the 600 or so fatalities among our troops this year to achieve
withdrawal with less humiliation will be well worth the sacrifice."
Then the president vomited and collapsed. The American legion
called for a parade in his honor. Re-enlistments among the 75,000
troops in South East Asia skyrocketed. Many volunteered for
important suicide missions. The country at last felt united.
