Mr. President

They rolled the dice. The colonel looked at the world with fresh eyes.

"Long live President Shushert!" he shouted.

An enthusiastic crowd carried Shushert into the presidential palace.

Shushert settled in the president's office. He was warming his injured butt in a basin of hot water. The mood was great, life was getting better.

He was making new government appointments and receiving congratulations from foreign state heads.

The phone rang. He picked up the phone.

"Is that Bush?"

"Not really," it was Helen Rothschild.

The UN Goodwill Ambassador arrived in Baghdad and after some negotiations it was announced that Kuwait would be returned for a hundred barrels of beer.