The Briefing
As he entered the secret offices of the CIA, Ducky reminisced to that fateful day on the golf course, when his wealthy friend, Max, had beat him on the 18th hole.
"Ducky," Max laughed. "That was ten thou a hole. If my math is correct, that should be 180 thousand you owe me."
Ducky considered the words, as Max continued to laugh. He often felt jealous and insecure around Max: a man that started with absolutely nothing and had built an empire much bigger than Ducky's.
"Would you like to double it?" Ducky asked.
"Sure," Max replied.
"I'll bet you . . . I can get nominated as the President of the United States."
Max thought for a moment.
"Nominated?. . . Or win?" Max asked.
"Nominated. Why the hell would I want to be the President?" Ducky smirked, "I may be crazy, but I'm not that fucking crazy."
"Mr. Ducky. Mr. Ducky." A tall general stood before him. "Mr. Ducky the gentlemen are ready to brief you."
Ducky entered into a noisy large nondescript briefing room. As he passed through heavy metal doors, that slammed shut behind him, the room became silent.
Ducky looked around a stark chamber to see the solemn faces of hardened men staring back at him, examining him, like proctologist about to perform rectal surgery.
"Guys!" Guys!" Ducky smiled. "Why so serious? Ducky glanced around. Where's the dames?"
"Ducky," Max laughed. "That was ten thou a hole. If my math is correct, that should be 180 thousand you owe me."
Ducky considered the words, as Max continued to laugh. He often felt jealous and insecure around Max: a man that started with absolutely nothing and had built an empire much bigger than Ducky's.
"Would you like to double it?" Ducky asked.
"Sure," Max replied.
"I'll bet you . . . I can get nominated as the President of the United States."
Max thought for a moment.
"Nominated?. . . Or win?" Max asked.
"Nominated. Why the hell would I want to be the President?" Ducky smirked, "I may be crazy, but I'm not that fucking crazy."
"Mr. Ducky. Mr. Ducky." A tall general stood before him. "Mr. Ducky the gentlemen are ready to brief you."
Ducky entered into a noisy large nondescript briefing room. As he passed through heavy metal doors, that slammed shut behind him, the room became silent.
Ducky looked around a stark chamber to see the solemn faces of hardened men staring back at him, examining him, like proctologist about to perform rectal surgery.
"Guys!" Guys!" Ducky smiled. "Why so serious? Ducky glanced around. Where's the dames?"
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