LADYS AND GENTLEMEN THE PRESIDENT HAS SHAT HIMSELF
27 June 2002
Mad Sod the Scientist invited me to his house one day.
'Oh Sexton. So nice to see you,' he said. 'come in'.
'What is this about?' I asked suspiciously.
'Sit down' said Mad Sod. 'I have decided to conquer the world yet again with my science.'
'Oh God' I said burying my head in my hands. 'You know what happened last time? Randos always turned up and stopped you.'
'Not this time,' said Mad Sod gleefuly. ' Randos is with me on this one. He's having a shower in my barthroom..'
'Wow!' I thought.
Out came Randos the Bull dripping wet with no clothes on.
'"look at the size of my willy" he said thrusting his loins. Then he walked over to the fire place. 'Look. I can lift logs with it.'
'Oh for Gods sake. Put some cloths on Randos' protested Mad Sod the scientist.
Randos walked into the bedroom and shouted 'Hurray for Randos.'
There was twenty cases of beer beside Mad Sods computer.
'What's all that beer for?' I asked.
'It might be a long night. I got plenty of sushi too. Now sit down and I will show you what I'm going to do. I have hacked my way into the Pentigon's E mail. I shall make my demands.
Mad Sod tapped away at his computer board. He sent a message that went like this.
"If the United States do not give me ten million dollars by seven p.m. your time. I with my specialy developed magnet invention will make the President shit himself. And I will continue to make him shit himself till I have the money.'
'Ho ho ho. Soon I will be rich,' said Mad Sod rubbing his hands with glee. I was doubtful.
Later that evening in Washington DC the president and his advisers and generals were having dinner.
'Anything happened today?' asked the President to his men.
'We had a funny E mail from a crank at the Pentigon,' said General Starbuck.
'Oh really? What did it say' laughed the President.
'it said sir, if we didn't give this crank ten million pounds he would make you shit your pants dead on seven p.m.'
'Ha ha ha ha' every body laughed.
'Well its almost seven now.' Said the President. 'Lets see if I crap myself' he jested.
The dinner party watched as the clock began to crawl towards seven with smiles on their faces. When the big hand hit twelve there was a large explosion emulating from the Presidents pants. BLAM!
'Oh Christ I've shat my self.'
'Not only that Mr President. It was a wet one.'
The whole Whitehouse was in pandamonium. It was on tv straight away. 'Ladies and Gentlemen. The President has just shat himself.'
'This is an act of terrorism,' cried the President. 'Find out who is behind this.'
'Donıt worry Mr President. We'll track down this terrorist through his E mail signals.'
Days went by. The President of the United States shat himself on a regular basis. When he opened super markets as soon as he cut the ribbon he'd shit himself. When he greeted foreign officials as soon as he shook their hands he shat himself. It was becoming very embarrassing.
But one day some soldiers with C I A men burst into Mad Sods house. They had tracked down his E mail signals.
'Ok you terrorist bum,' said a CIA man. 'Your coming back to the states to stand trial and execution for terrorism against the President.' So they carted off Mad Sod to Washington.
'I want to see this man who has caused my arse to overflow,' said the President.
They presented Mad Sod to him. The President looked him up and down.
'Are you truly English?' he asked Mad Sod.
'Yes. I can trace my ansestry back two thousand years.'
'I'll make a deal with you' said the President. 'If you destroy you invention that makes me shit. I'll drop all charges and give you twenty million dollars. Is it a deal?'
'Itıs a deal' said Mad sod shaking the presidents hand. 'No longer will I make you shit yourself.'
'Release him.'
'But Mr President,' protested General Starbuck. 'The mans a terrorist.'
'No he's not. He's just a Englishman trying to make a fast buck. Besides I could never imprison and execute a fellow white man.'
The next day Mad Sod invited me and Randos around.
'Here's two million dollars each,' he said handing us a lot of money.
'Hurray for Mad Sod the Scientist!' we cried.
The End
Sexton Ming