President Vincenzo “Vinny” Stugotz sat in front of a mirror of his presidential dressing room while a team of servants ran around, prepping him for his day. Two servants lowered a one-foot tall, jet black pompadour on the President’s bald cranium and stapled it to his scalp.
“Ouch,” the President said as the staples entered his skin. “So painful and yet, so swanky.”
The President ran a comb through his luxurious faux hair while two more servants brought over an array of spray cans. “Shall we go with Tropical Surprise or Mediterranean Madness today, sir?”
“Hmm,” President Stugotz said. “You know, I’m feeling a little extra pale today. Let’s go with the Maui Madness.”
“Maui Madness it is, sir,” a servant said. The President popped two plastic eye guards over his eyeballs while the servants shook up their spray cans. Soon, the Commander-in-Chief was being doused in the face with a hefty application of spray on tanning solution.
“Ahh,” the President said as he admired his look in the mirror. “So brown I wouldn’t even let myself in the country!”
There was a knock on the door. “Sir, are you decent?”
“OMG,” President Stugotz said. “Who would dare disturb me at this ungodly hour?”
“It’s eleven a.m. sir,” came the voice from the other side of the door.
“That early?” President Stugotz said. “The sacrifices I make for my country. Come in, Bob.”
Bob Breckenridge, the President’s buzz cut sporting Chief-of-Staff, stepped in only to find a butt naked POTUS.
“Sir,” Breckenridge said. “Seal Team Ten is waiting outside and oh…oh my…”
“Don’t act like you’ve never seen an executive branch before, Bob,” the President said as he turned to his servants. “Black suit number ninety-seven. Elongated red power tie number fifty-two. Make it snappy.”
The servants whirled around the President, dressing him up nice and stylish. Once he was fully clothed, he looked at his dutiful subordinate.
“Bob,” the President said. “I’ve been glued to Network News One. Literally glued. I can’t take my eyes off of it. I’ve been Lifeboxing all of their coverage.”
“I once again must ask that you run all of your Lifebox comments by the cabinet, sir,” Breckenridge said. “‘The Hotass Blonde Chicks need to have twenty percent bigger titties’ is not presidential at all.”
“I thought I was being restrained,” President Stugotz said. “Really, ninety-percent would be better. I mean, those reporter ladies have some incredibly big titties already, but if you ask me, only ridiculously, absurdly, cartoonishly large breasts will do.”
“Right,” Breckenridge said. “Anyway, sir. Are you ready for your top secret mission?”
“Of course,” the President said. “Let’s move.”
President Stugotz and Breckenridge exited the bedroom and proceeded to walk down a long hallway, surrounded by the members of Seal Team Ten. Each member was clad in black body armor and helmets that covered their faces. They carried automatic weapons. They spoke through microphones in their helmets.
“The Eagle is on the move,” one member said. “Repeat, the Eagle is on the move.”
“Copy,” another member said. “Exterminate all threats with extreme prejudice.”
“Bob,” President Stugotz said. “I want to be straight with you. This mission is not for the feint of heart and frankly, some of us might not be coming back so if you want to run away like a little school girl in pigtails, now is the time.”
“No way, sir,” Breckenridge said. “I signed up to stand by your side as you lead America into a new age of glory and nothing will scare me away.”
“That’s a tremendous response, Bob,” the President said. “Really, classy. Big time classiness.”
The contingent stopped at an elevator. Breckenridge typed in a long numeric code and pressed his thumb onto an identification plate. The elevator doors opened and the contingent entered.
“Has the site been thoroughly swept?” President Stugotz asked.
“Indeed, sir,” one of the seal team members said. “The K9 unit just made a pass through and reported no hits.”
“Excellent,” President Stugotz said. “That’s amazing. Really fabulous. You’re all aces in my book. Aces.”
The elevator began to descend deep underneath the White House. The floors ticked off on the readout. “Sublevel 1, Sublevel 2, Sublevel 3…”
“Mr. President,” Breckenridge said. “I must admit, the polls on your response to the Toilet Killer situation are not good.”
“No, they aren’t, Bob,” the President said. “That’s why you need to get the FBI Director on the phone and get that lady agent pulled off the case.”
“Is it really proper to interfere with an investigation, sir?” Breckenridge asked.
“Is it really proper to keep allowing honest, hard-working Americans to be murdered while they’re shitting, Bob?” the President asked. “Good God, man. Use your head. Every shitter that’s murdered is a potential voter and one less person who will show up to vote for me in 2020. Batzengant and Wannadingle are busting a nut every time the Toilet Killer strikes because they know people will never vote for a President who allowed a Toilet Killer to kill indiscriminately and with reckless abandon on his watch. Like those asshats could do any better, they couldn’t get a bill through the Senate with a bucket a grease and an offer for a free hooker for everyone on Capitol Hill.”
“I’m told that Agent Walker is highly respected in law enforcement circles,” Breckenridge said.
The elevator continued to drop. “Sublevel 45, sub level 46, sub level 47…”
“Yeah,” President Stugotz said. “But you heard that hayseed Mayor on TV. Agent Walker has a vagina and frankly, that’s an excellent point.”
“That she has a vagina, sir?” Breckenridge asked.
“Exactly,” President Stugotz said. “I mean, it’s not her fault that she has one, sure, but I concur with the Mayor of Sitwell on this one. Only a big, beautiful man with a giant penis will be able to solve this most confounding case and we need to get it solved quick so I can get back to the very important business of Making America Fabulous again. I promised my voters a fabulous America and by God, they will get a fabulous America.”
“Well,” Breckenridge said. “I’ve been going through the FBI files and it just so happens that Agent Walker’s partner, Agent Bishop, has an extraordinary large penis, so big, in fact, that the FBI’s head physician classified it as a ‘medical oddity.’”
“I don’t even want to know why you’re looking up FBI agent penis sizes, Bob,” President Stugotz said.
“I like to be thorough, sir,” Breckenridge said.
The elevator stopped at sub-level 101. The contingent exited and began walking through a long, dark hallway. They came to the first door and a robotic voice came through a loudspeaker.
“Retina identification, please.”
President Stugotz shoved his eyeball up to a scanner. The door opened. The contingent walked down yet another long hallway.
“Whatever,” President Stugotz said. “Take Agent Walker off. Put Agent Bishop in charge.”
“Will do, sir,” Breckenridge said.
“Americans cannot be afraid to shit anymore,” the President said. “No one’s going to be scared to take a shit on my watch.”
The contingent stopped at another door. “Breath identification, please.”
President Stugotz breathed on a scanner. The door opened and the contingent headed down yet another hallway.
“Are we ready for this shit, Bob?” President Stugotz asked.
“All safety precautions have been taken, sir,” Breckenridge said. “The Air Force has scrambled its best fighter jet pilots to keep watch overhead, while our best tank battalion has arrived on the White House front lawn.”
“Fantastic,” President Stugotz said.
The contingent reached a final door. “Voice identification, please.”
“President Vinny Stugotz, here,” the President said.
The door opened as the robotic voice replied, “President Stugotz voice identification scan complete. All hail President Stugotz.”
The contingent entered a top secret, underground bathroom with black walls, floors, and a sleek, stylish toilet in the center of the room. Five secret service agents wearing dark sunglasses stood around the toilet, with their arms folded behind their backs.
“Sir,” one of the agents said. “Ready for waste elimination when you are, sir.”
President Stugotz turned the members of Seal Team Ten. “Are we a go?”
“Waiting on your go code, sir,” one of the members said.
President Stugotz held up his wrist and played with the buttons on his watch. “Synchronize your watches on my mark…mark!”
All seals and secret service agents adjusted their watches accordingly.
“Go code alpha bravo charlie one one zero one one niner five,” President Stugotz said.
“Go code is a solid copy,” one of the seals said. “Confirmation code beta beta hawkeye delta one seven four. Proceed when ready.”
President Stugotz dropped his pants and sat on the toilet.
One seal held up a sniper rifle. “Sniper unit standing by.”
A second seal held up a jagged tactical knife. “Hand to hand combat unit, standing by.”
A third seal held up a can of air freshener and sprayed a cherry vanilla scent into the room. “Air freshener unit standing by.”
The agents and seals formed a circler around the toilet and turned their backs to give the President some privacy.
“Maybe I should just step outside,” Breckenridge said.
The President strained his bowels. “Ergh…ugh…no. Don’t be silly. This is going to be a working shit, Bob. I’ve got more orders for you.”
“Very good, sir,” Breckenridge replied.
“Aargh,” the President said as his face turned red. “Damn it, this is going to be awhile. I know I should have listened to the First Lady about those damn bran muffins.”