‘What year is it?’ Great. First day as a cop and a crazy, naked person is pointing my loaded gun at my limp dick. At least aim at my incompetent brain and make it quick. ‘What year is it?’
‘The year is two-thousand and twenty. Now, calm down and give me back my gun.’
‘What’s the date?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘The date!’
‘August twenty-fifth.’
‘Take me to the leader!’
‘Leader?’
‘Don’t fuck with me!’
‘Look, point the gun at my head or my gut. Anywhere but there.’
‘Do as I say!’
‘What leader?’
‘The dictator!’
‘Please stop shouting. I get excruciating migraines.’
‘Take me to the dictator!’
‘What fuckin dictator?’
‘The leader. The person in charge.’
‘The president?’
‘Yes!’
‘Why do you want to see him?’
‘He’ll listen. He’ll know what to do!’
‘Do you know who the president is?’
‘He’s the guy we need to send the nukes!’
‘Nukes?’
