Franken-Lies-And-the-Lying-Liars-Who-Tell

"I would be, but Colonel Scalia took a liking to me. He gave me a choice. Execution
by firing squad, or lead the Skipper here upriver to my old unit's last position. And then
Scalia'll give me a recommendation for law school on the GI Bill." Thomas strolled into the
head with a magazine under his arm.
"So we're going to terminate our own men with extreme prejudice?" Gore asked, intrigued.
"No." Kerry said with obvious disappointment. "We made radio contact with Limbaugh
and cut a deal with Gingrich. They're hiding in a cave fifty klicks upriver. We extract
them, and they all go home with an honorable discharge and a unit citation."
"That hardly seems fair," Gore commented.
"HQ just wants the problem to go away. Bring 'em up on charges and we'll have a giant
shitstorm."
"I still don't see why we can't just kill them."
"I hear ya. But I got my orders," Kerry said, idly picking a short, curly hair off the
Coke can. "Thomas!" Kerry yelled over his shoulder. "Get out of there!"
Meanwhile, in a dank, foul-smelling cave fifty klicks upriver, Rush Limbaugh was eating his
eighty-third raw snail of the day.
"At least pick 'em outta thair damn shells," Gramm said irritably.
"The fiber keeps me regular," Limbaugh snapped defensively.