Leapt

By Nigel Pemblerell

The President got up from his chair, walked around the staff, returned to his seat and slammed his fist into the table.

"Damn it! We've got to get this show on the road," he said.

"I second the motion," his main yes man concurred.

"We can build a mighty expressway across this great nation of ours that would be second to none," the Secretary of Transportation beamed.

A chorus of "Here, here" and "Bravos" rose from the suits before the President raised his hand and hissed, "Silence."

"I don't mean that kind of road. Damn it. I'm speaking figuratively," he went on to say.

Someone on his cabinet consulted a PDA, nudged the fellow next to him and spoke.

"We could put on a mighty musical across this great nation of ours that would be second to none."

"Get out," the president growled, pointing to the door.

As they filed out, he called his Secretary of Defense back into the room and slammed the door.

"We've spent more money on this damn Missile Defense Program than any other in our nation's history and we have nothing to show for it."

"Sir, yes sir," he saluted.

"We haven't been to the moon in forty years, haven't cured cancer, haven't provided for the tired and the poor and the huddled masses. There are more toxins in our environment now, than if every person that has ever lived on the face of the globe, took a shit right here in this oval office," the President all but screamed.

"Sir, yes sir."

To be continued

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