PREVIOUSLY ON “IN MY WORLD”
Detective Ian Competent shined a bright light into Donald Rumsfeld’s eyes. “So how many people have you strangled to death?”
Rumsfeld rubbed his knuckles. “Apparently not enough.”
Detective Competent slammed his hands down on the table. “You think this is funny?!”
“I don’t ever think anything is funny,” Rumsfeld answered. “Laughing is for homosexuals.”
“Well you won’t be homosexual over this.” Detective Competent threw some photos of people strangled to death down in front of Rumsfeld. “Do you recognize these?”
Rumsfeld adjusted his glasses and looked at the photos. “Yes. These are the photos I sent you of the people I strangled. I wanted to make sure you knew who strangled them because I don’t want someone else taking credit from my stranglings. That would just mean more people to strangle.”
“Don’t try and talk your way out of this one!” Detective Competent shouted. “We have evidence you strangled these people! Diplomats, hippies, French people – all dead because of you!”
Rumsfeld yawned. “Now you’re just quoting my resume. I thought we were clear on all this? I usually came in and told you guys who I was going to strangle before hand to once again make sure no one take credit for my stranglings.” Rumsfeld got angry. “Is someone taking credit for my strangling?!”
Detective Competent laughed. “I bet you never thought we’d figure it out.”
“What’s to figure out? I left you guys notes and everything so you wouldn’t waste time on this.”
Detective Competent stared Rumsfeld right in the eyes. “Do you know what the punishment is for mass murderers in Washington D.C.?”
Rumsfeld thought for a moment. “I think it’s a fifteen dollar fine.”
“Wrong!” Detective Competent slammed his fists down on the table. “In an effort to crack down on murder sprees, the fine has been increased to forty dollars.” He paused for a second. “Of course, the law change isn’t retroactive, and since your murderers predate it, I guess your fine is still fifteen dollars.” He shrugged. “So, yeah, I guess you’re right; it’s fifteen dollars. Sorry for the outburst.”
“Rarr!” Rumsfeld burst to his feet. “I’m not paying that! Everyone I strangled deserved it!”
“If you don’t pay your fine, it’s prison for you! And then you can strangle rocks all day! Now, another question: You know anything about the kids disappearing in your neighborhood? We thought that would stop when we took you in, but, well…” He chuckled. “Whoops! Wrong again. Can’t get them all right… or even most of them.”
“That’s my dog, Chomps,” Rumsfeld said. “If not watched, he eats whiny little children. If watched, he eats less of them.”
“Oh.” Detective Competent thought about that. “Guess we can’t do anything about it; it’s not like laws apply to dogs. Anyway, I’m going to go talk to the press, and you can wait here and think about what you did.” He left the interrogation room and locked the door.
Rumsfeld flexed his hands. “I’d rather think about what I’m going to do.”
“I, Ian Competent, the greatest Detective ever, have succeeded where other’s failed and captured the Rumsfeld Strangler,” Detective Competent told the press. “I’m sure I’ll get the Medal of Honor or something for this. Make it clear to everyone that I’m open to negotiations for a book deal.”
A police officer ran forward. “Donald Rumsfeld has escaped! He strangled the lock open!”
“What?! Where was did he go?”
“I think he passed through here.”
Detective Competent noticed that all the reporters had been strangled. “Dang it!”
“President Bush, you may be interested to know that an APB has been put out for Donald Rumsfeld and his angry dog too,” Tony Snow said. “The orders are to shoot to kill.”
President Bush chuckled. “That’s wacky Rumsfeld. I knew he’d keep himself busy even without being Secretary of Defense anymore. Well, I hope the new guy will do well. What did Rummy call him again?”
“A ‘fruit.'”
Bush laughed again. “He was always accusing everyone of being homosexuals. I’ll miss that.” Bush held up the Iraq Study Group report. “Did you see this, Snowman? We have our plan to win!”
“Uh… did you actually read that?”
“No. I don’t… you know… read things. Why? What’s it say?”
“It’s a plan to withdraw from Iraq,” Tony explained. “It also calls for talks with Syria and Iran to help with Iraq.”
Bush tossed the study. “Was that the ‘Iraq Study Group’ or the ‘Crack Smoking Group’? We should make a new group with people who actually like to win wars. You think we can find some of them?”
Tony sighed. “Yeah; maybe.”
“Maybe I’ll just do my own study group with my GI Joe action figures,” Bush mused. “They never give up in their battle with the dreaded Cobra.”
“Unfortunately, I think that’s your best idea so far this year, sir.”
“If I include the Transformers in this study group, do I need to include both the Autobots and the Decepticons to make it bipartisan?”
Tony was about to respond, but then his cell phone rang and he answered it.
“What is it?” Bush asked.
Tony put away his phone. “Apparently, every member of the Iraq Study Group has been strangled.”
“That’s odd. Do you think the murders are related?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “It crossed my mind. I’m going to go talk to the press and then cry myself to sleep.”
“Have fun!” When Tony left, Bush opened the drawer on his desk that contained his action figures and rummaged through them. “I need to find Admiral Ackbar; he’ll know what to do.”
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