The Cat's Pajamas

“Well, one thing led to another and they wound up giving away the whole damned country.”

“In one roll of the dice?”

“No, as I heard it, one state at a time.”

“My God.”

“To be accurate, sir, they lost New York City first, but the first state to go was Florida.”

“That figures.”

“After that it was most of the southern states. Something to do with the Civil War.”

“How’s that?”

“I don’t know. It’s still all a little fuzzy. But the Civil War’s never been completely forgotten, and it would be just like southern Democrats to deal it back to the reds.”

“Then what?”

“Well, state by state, ending with Arizona, and the next thing you know, with a final toss, America the Beautiful, sea to shining sea, belonged to Iron Cloud.”

“The Indian chief?”

“Yes. He runs the casino.”

The president mused and then said, “If they can drink, so can I. Refill my glass.”

THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES plunged into the Pocahontas Big Red Casino and glared around.

“Where’s the smoke-filled room?”

The attaché pointed.

“And where are those stupid rotten damn fool senators?”

“In that room, naturally.”

The president slammed the door wide to startle the thirteen senators, who stood staring at the floor.

“Sit down!” cried the president. “No, stand while I hit you! Now hear this. Are you all sober?”

They nodded.

“Then we all need a drink!”

Smith, the attaché, hurried out of the room. In moments, vodka was brought in.

“Okay, drink up and let’s solve this mess.”

He scowled at them and said, “My God, you make the Rolling Stones look like the Last Supper.”

There was a long silence.

“Who’s responsible? Senator Hamfat?”

“Hamfritt,” murmured one of the senators.

“Hamfritt. Hold on. Smith, do the news media know about this?”