“So anymore questions about how brilliantly the war is going?” Rumsfeld asked the press.
“Why don’t you just tell us how great the war is going and you don’t hurt any of us?” suggested one reporter.
“I’ll tell you how well the war is going, but no promises on that second part. Operation Make Iraqis Dead and Take Their Oil is going great!”
Condoleezza Rice whispered into his ear. “I don’t care what’s it’s called as long as we get to kill evil foreigners!” Rumsfeld yelled. “Anyway, our forces are dominating the pathetic Iraqi resistance. We hardly even have to engage them anymore. Their vehicles explode on site of our tanks. Their troops spontaneously combust just thinking about having to fight us. We have completely surrounded Baghdad. Nothing can get past us now. Earlier, a monkey riding a camel tried to get past our blockade. I am proud to tell you that that monkey and that camel were so riddled with bullets so as to be unidentifiable.”
“Poor monkey,” said one of the reporters.
“There will be no sympathy for the enemy!” Rumsfeld shouted angrily.
“What about reports that coalition forces have begun renaming buildings in Iraq?” a reporter asked.
“Yes, we have more appropriately named some buildings. The Saddam Hussein Airport is now the Baghdad Airport. The Saddam Hussein Theater is now the Baghdad Theater. The Saddam Hussein Hospital is now the Saddam Hussein Memorial Hospital. Also, we renamed Basra Funkytown. And we started renaming the P.O.W.’s; too many were named Mohammed. Also, I kinda find it funny to see an Iraqi soldier named ‘Cody’.”
“You can’t just rename whomever you please!” said a shocked reporter.
“Yes I can! Your name is now Polly Prissypants,” Rumsfeld told the man. Rice then handed him his new social security card.
“I don’t want a new name!” the reporter complained.
“Quiet, Polly Prissypants!” Rumsfeld shouted.
“So are you sure that Saddam is dead?” asked another reporter.
“We are not. He has too many of those damn look-alikes. Actually, there has been some suggestions that the original Saddam was a kindly man who loved puppies and wanted nothing more than peace in the middle east, but then he was killed and replaced by an evil, warmongering look-alike. To make sure we stop him, we’re killing everyone who looks like Saddam.”
“You can’t just discriminately kill people like that!” declared a reporter.
“You know, with a bushy mustache and a beret, you might look like Saddam,” Rumsfeld said, reaching under his coat for his gun.
“Statement withdrawn!”
“There are reports that the smiling pictures of Saddam strewn throughout Iraq have been replaced with frowning pictures of you,” said one reporter, “This has caused many children there to have nightmares. Will you assure the Iraqi children you are not hiding under their beds or in their closets waiting to strangle them?”
“I will not take any options off the table in this war,” Rumsfeld declared, “Next question.”
“Are you afraid of the door to door fighting as you try to further take control of Baghdad?”
“No, because for that operation we have a secret ninja task force I can’t tell you anything about.”
“What can you tell us about this secret ninja task force you can’t tell us anything about?”
“Nothing.”
“Hey, I think I see movement up in rafters!” said one reporter, pointing upwards, “It’s the secret ninjas!”
Rumsfeld turned to Rice. “Quick, do something before they find out about our secret ninjas!”
Rice held up a device that flashed in multiple colors and made strange noises. “This is a new invention of mine,” she told the press, “Its purpose is to distract and then blind reporters.”
“Wow! That is distracting!” exclaimed a reporter as he and everyone else stared at the device.
Suddenly a bright flash came from the device. “I’m blind!” yelled a number of reporters.
One reporter in the back raised his hand. “I’m still just distracted.”
“Damn, it needs more adjustments,” Rice uttered.