Roach-Busters
01-10-2004, 00:58
Presidential Palace, RB City, Invincible Empire of Roach-Busters
In the basement of the Presidential Palace, President J.L. and his cabinet convened around a long, rectangular table over seventy feet long. Secretary of Diplomacy Chong Moua pulled out a map of the entire world, with a colored pin in each nation signifying which superpowers occupied said-nations. He pointed at Southeast Asia. "Mr. President, you said you wished to deploy military forces to this region?"
"Yes, that is correct," J.L. said laconically.
Secretary Moua frowned. "Sir, I don't understand. We have no allies in that vicinity, nor any foes. There is little if any strategic value. Th-"
J.L. brusquely chopped the air with his hand, motioning for Moua to be silent. "I wish to acquire territory in that area," he said calmly.
"The Philippines?"
J.L. shook his head. "No."
"One of the countries of former French Indochina?" Moua asked.
J.L. sighed. "No. I want Thailand."
One of the aides spat coffee all over the table and began to cough hoarsely. "T-T-Thailand, sir? With all due respect, how could we acquire Thailand? It's already inhabited by Nianacio, a nation far larger than us, in terms of both size and population. That would be potential suicide!"
"Perhaps, perhaps." J.L. rubbed his hands together calmly. His face was devoid of fear. It was almost chilling how serene he seemed. His expression reminded M.L. Baum, one of the aides (and an avid Star Trek fan) of a Vulcan.
"Sir, don't be a damned fool!" bristled Secretary of War Lester Lindsey, an outspoken, rough-talking man whose physical and mental toughness were both unrivaled in Roach-Busters. "Why in hell should we waste billions of RB Dollars and millions of lives trying to get a damned little pissant country that don't mean jack to us?"
"That 'damned little pissant' country happens to be the birthplace of the First Lady, my lovely wife," President J.L. said, glaring vacantly at Lindsey. "What better gift to give her than the title Queen of Thailand?"
Lindsey, who rarely hesitated to speak his mind, held his tongue. He knew that, when President J.L. made up his mind, there was no point in arguing. He sighed. "Well, all right, Mr. President. I'll call up the fleet and Coral Harbor and tell them to begin mobilization. But Congress-"
"I know. I've already scheduled a meeting with Congress, which-" President J.L. glanced at his watch. "-which started five minutes ago. Sorry, gentlemen, but I must be leaving now. Good day."
J.L. grabbed his coat and fedora and hurried out of the room.
In the basement of the Presidential Palace, President J.L. and his cabinet convened around a long, rectangular table over seventy feet long. Secretary of Diplomacy Chong Moua pulled out a map of the entire world, with a colored pin in each nation signifying which superpowers occupied said-nations. He pointed at Southeast Asia. "Mr. President, you said you wished to deploy military forces to this region?"
"Yes, that is correct," J.L. said laconically.
Secretary Moua frowned. "Sir, I don't understand. We have no allies in that vicinity, nor any foes. There is little if any strategic value. Th-"
J.L. brusquely chopped the air with his hand, motioning for Moua to be silent. "I wish to acquire territory in that area," he said calmly.
"The Philippines?"
J.L. shook his head. "No."
"One of the countries of former French Indochina?" Moua asked.
J.L. sighed. "No. I want Thailand."
One of the aides spat coffee all over the table and began to cough hoarsely. "T-T-Thailand, sir? With all due respect, how could we acquire Thailand? It's already inhabited by Nianacio, a nation far larger than us, in terms of both size and population. That would be potential suicide!"
"Perhaps, perhaps." J.L. rubbed his hands together calmly. His face was devoid of fear. It was almost chilling how serene he seemed. His expression reminded M.L. Baum, one of the aides (and an avid Star Trek fan) of a Vulcan.
"Sir, don't be a damned fool!" bristled Secretary of War Lester Lindsey, an outspoken, rough-talking man whose physical and mental toughness were both unrivaled in Roach-Busters. "Why in hell should we waste billions of RB Dollars and millions of lives trying to get a damned little pissant country that don't mean jack to us?"
"That 'damned little pissant' country happens to be the birthplace of the First Lady, my lovely wife," President J.L. said, glaring vacantly at Lindsey. "What better gift to give her than the title Queen of Thailand?"
Lindsey, who rarely hesitated to speak his mind, held his tongue. He knew that, when President J.L. made up his mind, there was no point in arguing. He sighed. "Well, all right, Mr. President. I'll call up the fleet and Coral Harbor and tell them to begin mobilization. But Congress-"
"I know. I've already scheduled a meeting with Congress, which-" President J.L. glanced at his watch. "-which started five minutes ago. Sorry, gentlemen, but I must be leaving now. Good day."
J.L. grabbed his coat and fedora and hurried out of the room.