President Barack Obama was in the Oval Office when his telephone rang.
“Hello, President Obama,” a heavily accented Norwegian voice said. “’Dis here is Sven, over here at the Rod and Gun Club in Iola, Wisconsin. Ve don’t like some a yer policies so I am callin’ to tell ya dat we are officially declaring war on ya!”
“Well, Sven,” Barack replied, “This is indeed important news! How big is your army?”
“Right now,” said Sven, after a moment’s calculation, “there is myself, my cousin Knute, my next-door-neighbor Ole, and the whole pool team from the Rod & Gun. That makes eight!”
Barack paused, “I must tell you Sven that I have one million men in my Army waiting to move on my command.”
“Wow,” said Sven, “I’ll haf ta call ya back!” Sure enough, the next day, Sven called again. “Mr. Obama, Da war is still on! We have managed to acquire some infantry equipment!”
“And what equipment would that be, Sven?” Barack asked.
“Vell sir, ve got two combines, a bulldozer, and Sigurd’s farm tractor.”
President Obama sighed. “I must tell you Sven, that I have 16,000 tanks and 14,000 armored personnel carriers. Also I’ve increased my army to one and a half million since we last spoke.”
“All right den, said Sven. “I’ll be getting back to ya.” Sure enough, Sven rang again the next day. “President Obama, da war is still on! We have managed to git ourselves airborne! We up an’ modified Ole’s ultra-light vit a couple’a shotguns in da cockpit, and four boys from the coffee shop haf joined us as vell!”
Barack was silent for a minute then cleared his throat. “I must tell You, Sven, that I have 10,000 bombers and 20,000 fighter planes. My military complex is surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I’ve increased my army to TWO MILLION!”
“Two million you say?,” said Sven, “l’ll haf’ to call ya back.” Sure enough, Sven called again the next day. “President Obama! I am sorry to have to tell you that we have had to call off this here war.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Barack. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Vell, sir,” said Sven, “we’ve all sat ourselves down and had a long chat over a few beers, and come to realize that dar’s yust no vay ve can feed two million prisoners.” |
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