***NEWSFLASH*** General Phuccumoll Loves Our Troops

-by Zeljko Cipris

Washington, 5/16/05

"Oh God, I treasure them!" General Will I. Phuccumoll growls, his battleship-gray eyes flashing. "I love those troops to death!" Reclining in his king-size Pentagon armchair upholstered in calf leather, the brilliant West Point graduate (IQ 260) exhales a cloud or aromatic smoke vaguely reminiscent of Guantanamo Bay. "They're absolutely the best goddamned troops on this whole fucking planet-they carry out every order to perfection!"

Overcome with emotion, General Phuccumoll silently shakes his head. The general's oak-paneled walls are adorned with gold-framed paintings of various glorious warriors: Richard the Lionhearted, Saint George, Attila the Hun, Ivan the Terrible, and Generals Franco and Pinochet. Displayed among them with a charming incongruity is an autographed photograph of a smiling lady with white curls and sparkling pearls whose inscription reads: "From one beautiful mind to another: Light up those camel jockeys for me, won't you Will? Hugs & kisses, BB."

"You know what the greatest human virtue is?" demands the general, his eyes glittering sharp as ice-picks. "Obedience! That's right, obedience. Tell people to do pushups, they'll do pushups. Tell them to clean the shithouse, they'll clean the shithouse. Tell them to kill, they'll kill. Tell them to die, they'll die. That's obedience for you! I couldn't do fuck-all without it, but thanks to the will of God almighty I command it. It's so damned beautiful, it brings tears to my eyes!"

"The war? Oh the war is going just great! Terrific. Couldn't be better. It's a wonderful war." The general's handsome chin thrusts upward with utmost confidence, his stogie tilted at an irresistibly rakish angle. "The enemies of freedom are on the run everywhere and won't stop running till they fall off the edge of the world and right into hell. It's fabulous, a dream come true! And the people believe wholeheartedly in our mission, you see. That's the second most important virtue: faith. I couldn't do shit without faith."

"By the way, seen this?" General Phuccumoll tosses a well-thumbed magazine across his gigantic gleaming desk. "It tells how we'd fight China. A brilliant analysis by a wild and crazy genius! And you better believe it: it's an absolutely winnable war! Those dumb shit Japs couldn't do it-so what? We kicked the crap out of the Japs and Krauts, basically clobbered the Gooks and Dinks, and are now creaming the Ragheads. Hell, with that kind of mileage, a war with Chinks would be a cakewalk, we can chop them up before breakfast, no problem. All you need is faith."

General Phuccumoll pours himself a tall glass of Chivas Regal and downs a manly gulp before resuming in a more somber tone. "You know there are some perfidious cocksuckers who question our motives, as if the Pentagon were some goddamned global death squad owned and operated for the profit of the rich, or some shit like that. I totally loathe fuckers who think like that: they're a menace to faith and obedience, enemies of free enterprise, and ought to be locked up to let freedom ring. Damn right, put the treacherous bastards behind razor wire for good!"

Suddenly the general's cell phone comes alive and starts to play "Stars and Stripes Forever." Phuccumoll talks briefly, signs off and grins from ear to ear. "Know who that was? The little colored lady who runs the State. Ooh, such a fox! She'll go far, believe you me! Everybody's got the hots for her: General Letrick, General Moters, General Mills, General Mayhum, General Hoare. and yes, goddamn it, Phuccumoll!!"

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Zeljko Cipris is a professor at the University of the Pacific, and can be reached at zcipris@pacific.edu.