Part Deux:
As the aircraft carrier sank to its resting ground, I called the white house and spoke to the president, informing him the mission was a success and no one would know who is responsible. He was ecstatic. I informed him we even had the captain's parakeet. At this news, he went into a rage. 'Don't you know parakeets can talk?, he could ruin everything'. 'The bird needs to walk the gang plank and we'll be done with him.
Over the next 24 hours the crew came to love the avian, even naming him "Tweet". At dawn the next morning, Tweet was placed on the gang plank and started slowing walking out to the end, his end. Before jumping, he turned and saluted the crew with his little wing. There was not a dry eye on the ship. What happened next was disastrous and required another call to the president.
I listened to him go into a rage for several minutes before I could understand what he was saying. "Who would have know parakeets can fly, this is awful, the birdbrain will spill his guts to the world"
We next sailed into the Indian Ocean, through the Straights of Merlot and into the Chardonnay Islands. We dropped anchor. The Island of Pinot sent out the girls volley ball team bearing cases of vin. This turned out to be a diplomatic faux pas when we opened the boxes and discovered it was Zinfandel.
A few days later I was in the state room flipping through the channels on TV when I gasped. There was Tweet, spilling his guts, sitting in the guest chair, on none other than CNN with Anderson Cooper.
Tweet only managed a couple more years in his short life. He wrote a book that was chosen on Oprah's book of the month club. He traveled the world promoting peace and getting along. He was Time Magazine's Man of the Year.
The president's term was coming to an end. His last order of business was to commission a statue of himself. a statue bigger than any other, to tower above all statues and monuments in Washington.
The statue was cloaked with tarps while being constructed.
Finally, the unveiling was scheduled for dawn on a beautiful morning. Millions came to view the unveiling of the statue. Many more millions watched on TV. The president declared the biggest crowd ever.
The tarps were pulled off. There it was, a towering pole of gold shooting into the sky. Something was atop the pole, but people had to wait for the sun to fully rise to see a statue atop the pole, a statue of Tweet, standing at the end of a gang plank.
The inscription on the pole was simple. "One Can Send Many tweets That Mean Nothing, But One little "Tweet' Can Make a Difference".