Presidential!
Crisis! 2109! C.E.!
by William Kitcher
In the
Elliptical Office, President Bushrump and his
principal aide, Conrad Rumsberger, were seated at
the President’s desk. Rumsberger was
attempting to explain the basic principle of
credit = debit, but the President couldn’t
get it, and kept getting distracted by the
coloring book he had almost completed.
A frantic knocking sounded on the door, and in
rushed Theodore Biggish, the President’s
Assistant Deputy Assistant, waving a piece of
white paper frantically in front of him. “Mr.
President, I have some alarming news!”
“What’s that?” replied the
President.
“It’s news that’s alarming, sir.”
The President bristled. “I didn’t mean
that. What’s the news?”
Biggish relaxed. “Not much. What’s new
with you?”
“Biggish!” cried the President.
“Sir, we have a report of a coming terrorist
attack. Here it is.”
He passed the paper to the President, who looked
at it uncomprehendingly, then passed it back to
Biggish.
“Read it to me,” said the President.
“I seem to have forgotten my glasses today.”
Rumsberger looked at the President. “But, Mr.
President, you don’t wear--”
“Read it, Biggish.”
Biggish took a deep breath. “There will be a
terrorist attack on October 9, 2112.”
The President sat up. “Are you sure of the
date, Biggish?”
“Yes, sir. It says ‘10 09 12’.
October 9, 2112.”
Rumsberger furrowed his brow. “Sir, 10 09 12
is September 10, 2112, not October 9, 2112. Or,
come to think of it, it could be September 12,
2110. That’s next year!”
The President became all official. “It could
be worse than that. It could be December 10, 2109.
That’s only a couple of months from now!
Wait a minute, it could be October 12, 2109! That’s
next week!”
“Or December 9, 2110,” said Biggish
helpfully.
“No, Biggish,” said Rumsberger, “it
never goes year day month. It goes day month year
or year month day.”
“No,” said the President, “that
can’t be right. I think it’s imminent!”
“I’m pretty sure I’m right,”
said Biggish.
Rumsberger slammed his hand on the desk and hurt
himself. “No, sir, it goes day month year or,
in the worst scenario, year month day.”
“Year day month,” stated Biggish,
emphatically.
“That doesn’t make any sense,”
said Rumsberger.
“Month day year,” said Biggish, now
convinced he was right in the first place.
“It’s October 12, 2109! I’m the
President and I know these kinds of things! Month
year day!”
“Day month year or year month day!”
“Month day year!”
They went around three more times in the same
manner until Mervina Simpkins, the Deputy
Assistant to the Assistant Deputy Assistant,
rushed into the room holding another piece of
paper. This time the piece of paper was yellow,
used for extra-special occasions.
“Sir,” said Simpkins, out of breath.
“I have some alarming news!”
“What’s that?” said the President.
Biggish shook his head in disgust. “It’s
news that’s alarming, sir. I already
explained that to you.”
“Shut up, Biggish! What’s the alarming
news?”
Simpkins caught her breath. “Sir, we’re
going to have a planetary alignment.”
“Simpkins, what’s a planetary alignment?”
“Sir, it’s when all the planets of the
solar system line up. The gravitational pull of
all those planets in line will cause devastation
on Earth - earthquakes, volcano eruptions,
tectonic plate disruption, who knows what else.”
“This is very worrying,” said the
President, who could identify a real problem when
confronted with it. “And when is this
supposed to happen?”
Simpkins looked at the yellow paper. “October
10, 2110.”
“Oh no,” said the President. “Here
we go again.”
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