The President was in his office early for his briefing with Rahm before he and the family jetted off to Martha’s Vineyard for another lengthy vacation. This time they all would be together and he was looking forward to enjoying his kids.
Rahm came through the door of the Oval Office like it was his. He moved around like a tiger stalking prey. First he looked around the curtains and then out the Oval Office windows. He looked up, he looked down. Not finding what he was looking for, he sat himself down in front of the President with deliberate authority. “Now, what the hell was that all about, Rahm,” the President said. “Nothing, just checking,” he said. “You know, you haven’t been quite right since that Stripper thing.” “Yeah, well that kind of thing doesn’t happen to you every day,” Rahm exclaimed. “Yes, so true, poor son-of-a-bitch, and glad I wasn’t there to see it.”
“Well, you know everybody in the country is now calling you Imamobama and they think you’re a Muslim. You know that, right?” Rahm blurted out. “Yeah, I heard from Valarie that Limbaugh is now calling me that on his radio show, God damn, I wish we could shut him up.” “As I told you, Imam,” Rahm in his smart-ass way said to the President, “Limbaugh has powerful friends in high places that even you would have a problem with. “Remember…., the joint chiefs and the Supremes and I don’t mean the ones from Detroit” Rahm emphasized. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the President mumbled.
The reason for his meeting with Rahm was to tapdance around the Deepwater Horizon sinking, using code words and facial gestures, since everything in his office was taped and recorded for historical purposes.
Things started to heat up today because of BP’s refusal to release critical information on the cause of the sinking. He knew BP was holding back the video tapes that showed the Soros-Chavez-Iranian underwater attack on the rig. They were holding it as their ace-in-the-hole to negotiate any court or U.S. arm-twisting for more money for damages. As far as BP was concerned the sinking was a terrorist attack and they could prove it, therefore relieving them of any liability. Of course, the President knew of the attack but was never going to reveal that he knew. Even Rahm didn’t know of his arrangement with his handlers so he had to always look surprised when Rahm fed him any information he got from the Stripper-Lap Dance connection.
They finished their two hour meeting with the understanding that everything was to be kept quiet and that there was to be no pressure put on BP in any way. God, that’s all he needed, he thought, was a conspiracy proven true and he was involved, or rather his handlers were and he was an accessory.
It was now noon and he was off to catch his taxi, AF-1, with the family for a well deserved vacation while the rest of the country ate cake as the 566th day of the Obama Presidency looked forward to vacationing with all the white folk.
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