Bite-Me, the nickname given affectionately to Vice President Joe Biden, by the U.S. Military, was taking a few days off from his now boring job as second in command of the United States. The President did a good job of smothering him with do-nothing jobs and shoving him into the background while he destroyed the country. So Bite-Me figured he’d head over to his summer home just south of Rehoboth Beach, Delaware where he could get some peace and quiet.
He woke up with the sun shining into his bedroom and the sound of lapping waves of the Atlantic Ocean just 500 feet away. He got up and without a shower or shave headed out to the beach with his three Secret Service men in tow. As he walked south towards Fenwick Island, the last spot of land before you hit Maryland and the massive beach town of Ocean City, he walked between the debris that the high tide had brought in during the night. He knew that most people didn’t even know where Delaware was let alone that they had many beautiful unknown beaches. He gazed up at a group of gulls as they played and squawked while he enjoyed the light breeze coming from the southeast. Joe’s tranquil morning broke with a ringing phone coming from his point man’s pocket. It was Rahm calling from Washington.
Rahm screamed through the phone so loud that Bite-Me’s guards could hear him. “Easy boy,” Bite-Me responded. “Slow down, I can hardly understand what you’re saying Rahm.”
Bite-Me listened as Rahm went on for ten minutes about snipers and heads blowing up with body parts all over the place. Bite-Me sat down in the sand at water’s edge with the light surf just hitting his bare feet. He listened attentively like a father would to a young child with an occasional “now calm down,” “you’ll be fine,” “its ok, now.” The rather one-sided conversation ended abruptly in the middle of one of Rahm’s rants.
Bite-Me with his typical clueless look on his face handed the cell phone back to his body guard mumbling something that the guards couldn’t quite make out. “Sorry sir did you say something?” Vice President Bite-Me turned towards him with trembling lips and a slight bit of dribble coming from the corner of his mouth, “I think Rahm Emanuel is finally getting used to Washington,” as the 550th day of the Obama Presidency shuffled along wondering which way was home.
He woke up with the sun shining into his bedroom and the sound of lapping waves of the Atlantic Ocean just 500 feet away. He got up and without a shower or shave headed out to the beach with his three Secret Service men in tow. As he walked south towards Fenwick Island, the last spot of land before you hit Maryland and the massive beach town of Ocean City, he walked between the debris that the high tide had brought in during the night. He knew that most people didn’t even know where Delaware was let alone that they had many beautiful unknown beaches. He gazed up at a group of gulls as they played and squawked while he enjoyed the light breeze coming from the southeast. Joe’s tranquil morning broke with a ringing phone coming from his point man’s pocket. It was Rahm calling from Washington.
Rahm screamed through the phone so loud that Bite-Me’s guards could hear him. “Easy boy,” Bite-Me responded. “Slow down, I can hardly understand what you’re saying Rahm.”
Bite-Me listened as Rahm went on for ten minutes about snipers and heads blowing up with body parts all over the place. Bite-Me sat down in the sand at water’s edge with the light surf just hitting his bare feet. He listened attentively like a father would to a young child with an occasional “now calm down,” “you’ll be fine,” “its ok, now.” The rather one-sided conversation ended abruptly in the middle of one of Rahm’s rants.
Bite-Me with his typical clueless look on his face handed the cell phone back to his body guard mumbling something that the guards couldn’t quite make out. “Sorry sir did you say something?” Vice President Bite-Me turned towards him with trembling lips and a slight bit of dribble coming from the corner of his mouth, “I think Rahm Emanuel is finally getting used to Washington,” as the 550th day of the Obama Presidency shuffled along wondering which way was home.
Special Note:
This has been taken from Now the Eagle http://nowtheeagle.blogspot.com/a fictitious story based on factual and fictitious events and individuals. It should not be considered factual in any way. We hope you enjoy this daily fictitious tongue-in-cheek story of the Obama Presidency.
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