The mission was simple: sneak into the White House, gather all of the weapons of mass destruction, and change the future.
I strolled in through the front door. Agent Penelope created a distraction outside by playing a video on her government sanctioned laptop. The video was of a cat getting scared by another cat and then both cats falling off a table. I find the video to be subpar, but the internet has been grossly edited since The Administration began. People will suck down any mindless entertainment these days. All of the guards and surrounding public immediately became transfixed with the video, allowing me to easily sneak inside. This distraction tactic has been used by certain media outlets for years, blinding the public to the truth, and is now being utilized by The Opposition.
I then searched out the visitor information booth. Our tactical team had already run some recon missions to eliminate most of the guess work. We estimated the locations of all WMDs on the premises as it was of utmost importance to seek out every single one. My empty backpack was prepped and ready to make history.
The girl at the information booth seemed nice enough. She greeted me with a smile that looked painful to control. Her name was Jennifer, but I had the impression people called her Jen. I asked Jen whether or not she’d seen the video of two cats falling off a table and promised to show it to her if she let me charge my phone. The only outlet was inside of the information booth, so she kindly allowed me behind the counter. I plugged in my cord and started the video for Jen to watch. With her completely transfixed, I filled my bag with as many WMDs as I could locate on her desk. The video ended, she thanked me for the small piece of mindless entertainment, and I was on my way to the storage closet in the basement.
The stairs leading to the basement were marked on my map so I reached them with limited issues. I even found a couple of WMDs in some random drawers in the halls. Unfortunately, the door downstairs was blocked by a guard.
“Excuse me, sir? I’m a producer on America’s Got More Talent Than Other Loser Countries and we’re holding casting sessions outside on the lawn today. Do you want to be famous?”
Everyone wants to be famous nowadays. The guard disappeared within seconds, allowing me to make my way downstairs. I passed the hidden War Room which, ironically, I was told didn’t have any WMDs, then headed straight to the supply closet. Once inside, I found the plain, brown box that I was looking for, emptied its contents into my backpack, and made my way back upstairs.
The Oval Office, located in the West Wing, felt like a million miles away. My backpack had only become heavier, but I still had work to do. While on my way over there, I noticed a docent with a couple of WMDs in his breast pocket. I did the classic, “Hey Look Over There” trick, plucking them from his body without his noticing. My months of training with The Opposition paid off. It was easy to blend in.
Once inside the President’s Study, I found a couple more WMDs sitting carelessly in a novelty Garfield coffee mug. A few others, tossed inside some drawers, were dutifully placed inside my backpack. When I heard people coming, I quietly slipped inside the Oval Office.
The amount of gold was blinding. The curtains, the bust of the President’s head, the picture frames. If I had more time I would have destroyed it all, but the mission was extremely time sensitive. His giant desk was buried in paperwork. The paperwork was buried in a layer of dust. Mountains of documents piled up like they were racing to the moon. The voices in the hallway grew closer.
On the mantel behind the desk sat the largest WMD of all. Gold, of course. And the President’s personal property. I snatched it off its mahogany pedestal and crammed it into my pocket just as the President and his advisors entered the room.
“Welp, let’s get to it,” one of them announced.
I pretended to be from the Social Media Press and allowed everyone to file in around me. I worried that I hadn’t properly searched all the rooms, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
The advisors pulled out the President’s chair and helped him sit down. They asked if he was comfy. Someone brought out a glass of warm milk. Another advisor came in with a golden platter carrying that day’s batch of executive orders. The President said he was sleepy and wanted to nap, but was told he could do so only after signing today’s paperwork.
He asked for a pen.
They were all in my backpack.
The President’s personal gold pen on the mantel seemed to be missing.
Same with all the pens in the President’s Study. One advisor checked the supply closet downstairs while another searched the visitor’s booth.
“Sir, it seems that all the pens are missing! Does anyone here have a pen? DOES ANYONE HAVE A GODDAMN PEN?!”
People frantically patted their pockets and searched in drawers, confirming their worst fears. With no pens in the entire White House, no more executive orders could be signed. Stupidity is that simple.
Arguments began. People were fired. The Opposition’s plan had worked. But before I slipped out, I quietly announced, “Hey, have any of you seen the video of two cats falling off a table?” I pressed play on the video and silently left.
No executive orders have been signed since.
Written by Brooks Morrison with artwork by Marika Stephens
Inspired by: http://thehill.com/homenews/administration/316701-admin-trump-to-issue-three-more-executive-orders