Okay, first of all, I just want everybody to know that I'm still not mad that Seal Team 6 got to Osama bin Laden before I did. That happened nearly three months ago, and I'm totally over it... not that I was mad about it in the first place. Oh sure, I did have a super-cunning plan to take down bin Laden - one I'd been working on night and day for the past four years, which was far more clever than a bunch of bros kicking down a door and dogpiling on top of him - but, hey... whatever works, right? The important thing is that Osama bin Laden is out of our hair, and it makes no difference whatsoever whether it was a group of frat boys with a plan as subtle as a sledgehammer pounding a package of cheese 'n' crackers, or my infinitely more amazing scheme that was so detailed and profoundly artful, it would've made Al Qaeda stand up and give me the 1980s movie cafeteria "slow clap."
What was my ingenious plan? GLAD YOU ASKED. First of all, my strategy depended on finding bin Laden - which I misjudged only slightly. While he was actually in an Abbottabad, Pakistan, compound, I had him pegged as living in a San Antonio, Texas, retirement home, under the false name of Harold Morgenstern. (I've apologized for any mental anguish I may have caused Mr. Morgenstern prior to his death.) REGARDLESS! My plan would've worked brilliantly because it hinged on one question: What's the one thing, besides internet porn, that everyone loves? Correct! Hostess snack cakes.
First, I disguise myself as a beee-yootiful woman. (Fortunately, I have a closetful of appropriate wigs, shoes, dresses, and undergarments.) I then rent a U-Haul truck and paint the Hostess snack company logo on the side. Affixing a huge loudspeaker on the truck, I drive past bin Laden's residence broadcasting, "Get'cha free Ho Hos! Get'cha free Suzy Q's! Get'cha free Ding Dongs!" as "Turkey in the Straw" plays in the background. Unable to resist such temptation, bin Laden would come scrambling out of his retirement home (compound, whatever), and when he reached the truck... KABLOOIE!! I explode a 13-megaton nuclear bomb, obliterating every living molecule within a 30-mile radius. Bye-bye bin Laden!
I'm not saying my plan was flawless - Americans get pretty upset when anyone destroys a case of Ding Dongs - I'm just saying that maybe next time Seal Team 6 wants to stage a political assassination? Consult the experts first.
Speaking of anti-terrorism experts, don't miss the heeee-larious new 24 parody debuting Thursday at 12:15 a.m. on Adult Swim, entitled NTSF: SD: SUV (which of course stands for National Terrorism Strike Force: San Diego: Sport Utility Vehicle). Starring the never-not-funny Paul Scheer, with Brandon Johnson, Kate Mulgrew, Rebecca Romijn, and A GODDAMN ROBOT (yesssss), it's about a team of high-strung crime fighters keeping San Diego safe from a slew of San Diego - hating terrorists. It's exciting, funny as poop, and only lasts 15 minutes, which won't cut much into your terrorist-killing time.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a 13-megaton nuclear bomb to detonate. And some lady undergarments to launder.
"Get'cha Ding Dongs!" steve@portlandmercury.com
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