The Power of "Mission Accomplished"

I wasn’t prepared for the power of George W.’s belt buckle. 

The other day in Dallas, George W. Bush, “Dubya,” gave me his very own “Mission Accomplished” belt buckle as a gift.  Little did I know that the belt buckle was a heckuva lot more than just a belt buckle. 

Here’s what happened.  After leaving George W’s place, I went to downtown to buy some “common man” jeans at Nieman Marcus.   I was met at the front door by the head of security, a giant of a man named, in perverse Texas fashion, Tiny, who immediately escorted me to the offices of Joseph Weber, SVP, Chief Human Resources Officer. 

Mr. Weber, insisted I call him Joe W., and then cut right to the chase.  He offered me a seat on the company board paying $2 million a year.   “You don’t have to come the meetings,” he assured me.   But, he told me, I did have to pass a test.

Just then, a beautiful blonde, Cindy, who I later found out was a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, swept into the office, carrying a tray with a bottle of Lone Star beer and a bottle of Dom Perignon White Gold champagne. 

“If you choose the right one, we'll make you board member,” Joe W. told me. “If you choose the wrong one, we’ll put you on retainer as a consultant for $1.75 million a year.  And you’ll have to make a PowerPoint presentation to the board once a year, too.”

Just then, at my waist, George W's “Mission Accomplished” belt buckle started heating up. I felt a tingling in my fingertips, followed by a throbbing in my head and groin.

What would the Decider decide, I asked myself. The Lone Star sure looked good, but then so did the Dom Perignon. 

“Well, you know, I gave up drinking,” I told Joe. W.  after a moment. “Drinking interfered with my deciding, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just have some coffee.”

Joe W. grinned, reached across his desk and offered me a firm handclasp.  “Of course, of course,” he said grinning.  “Welcome to the board.”  Then turning to Cindy he asked her to bring out a bottle of 1907 Heidsieck. 

Joe, Cindy and me, we killed that bottle in less than five minutes.   And when it was gone, we drank the Dom Perignon, then did scissors, paper, rock for the Lone Star. 

I’m happy to say I won.  Terrible beer really, so following Joe’s advice, I chugged it.