The CIA operative just stared blankly towards the opposite wall of the tent. A light Coloradon breeze blows through the flaps, causing them to quiver ever so slightly, like Boulder hookers at a recruiting party.
Sam, who had been staring at the magic drinking bird on the General's field desk, jerked to attention. "Terminate the Congresswoman's term, sir?" He asked, not sure that he really believed he heard what he thought he heard.
"Terminate her term" the CIA operative said while stamping out his clove cigaratte in his empty Orange Mocha Frappachino Cup "with extreme prejudice."
As if on cue, General Harvey Fierstein, emerged from the shadows and began, deliberatively "Son, I love what you've done with that belt, but the Congresswoman has clearly lost the ability to govern, on even a very basic level, and she has began to consort with and assume the political objectives of a very dangerous group, a tyrannical fundamentalist theocracy. Sometimes, people, especially in eastern Colorado, just snap."
Colonel Sean Hays picked up the torch from there "Sam, she's throwing the feng shui off for the entire state, you never grow anything along the back fence until she's out of office."
Sam looked up, he wished life were as simple for him as it was for that damn bird, but he was glad he wasn't that thirsty. "I'm sure if I fail to qualify all my signatures, or save all my receipts the agency will disavow all knowledge of this operation, right?
Colonel Hays looked at his shuffling feet and said "Either that or you'll get paid twice, it's hard to predict."
"I'm in." Sam knew he had no other choice if he wanted to see Toledo, or the Shetland, ever again.