Assassination

"Good Evening, I'm Clinton Buller and your watching CNN. Recapping todays top
story's - The Worlds' markets continued their steady rise of the last week with
the majority of the markets finishing on their highest level in three months. A
roadside bomb exploded in Iraq today, injuring three Marines on a routine
mission, one is in a serious condition. Two men have been arrested under
suspision of starting California's November bushfires. President-Elect Barack
Obama has held further talks with several Middle Eastern countries and finally
George W. Bush will be speaking at a Republican rally in New York today as one of
his final duties as Persident."

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"All right gentlemen, I want everyone on the ball today. No mishaps, let's have a
nice clean afternoon - I do not want to end up on the news tonight." Instructed
Anthony Tallega.

Tallega was in charge of the group of Secret Service men and women assigned to
watch over the President in his final days in office.

"I want no repeats of that religious nutter in Washington or that jerk from TV,
understand?"

The last couple of weeks had seen a series of embarrassing incidents for the
Secret Service, the mains ones being a host of a prank-style show fooling a few
of the Service into giving away classified information and a man in Washington
who got a little close for comfort to the President before being escorted away.

"Anyone who messes up today will end up being the main detail on Obama's dog. Now Watson, James and Kowalski, you're the shadows - no more than 3 metres away from the President. Johnson and Kelly, you join the other three in escorting the
President to the stage, then take both entrance and exit of the platform. Jones,
Todd and Wright take roof tops one, two and three. Borgas will be with me in the
van, while the remaining six of you have crowd detail. Keep a sharp eye and we'll
have a good day."

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Silently he walked up and joined the growing mass of people. There was a feel of
electricity in the air, these people were excited, happy, full of hope. This
amused him as these people had come to see the man who had caused so much grief, pain and suffering in only eight years. The reason the people felt this way, he
imagined, was because this man was leaving. They hadn't come here to cheer on the
man, they had come to cheer on the fact that he would be no more.
He stalked his way through the crowd, gently nudging a few of the more stubborn
to keep his path clear. He looked at his watch and noticed the movement behind
the stage, the time was near. He continued his movement forward, ensuring his
open to reveal what was in store too early. He began being more
forceful with his movement through the crowd.

A cheer went up, people entering the stage, the electricity in the crowd rising,
it was now time. He was now at the front of the crowd, reaching into his jacket.

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"Shadows, the is Jenkins - do you copy?"

"Jenkins, this is Watson, we copy."

"I've got movement through the crowd, one white male, red jacket. Seems to be
very keen to get to the front."

"Roger, I see him. We'll keep an eye out. Rooftop do you have him in your
sights?"

"Affirmative, spotted him as well. No visable weapons."

"Roger that, Wilson, your closest - can you get to him?"

"Onto it now, moving in -he's looking fine."

"Tallega here, keep an eye out, get him out of there if you have to."

"Roger."

"Hang on, he's hit the front - looks like he's reaching into his jacket....shit,
my view's been blocked - anyone comfirm?"

"Checking out now, someone move in front of him..... wait, he's jackets open.
Arms to the side, can't see hands."

"Talk to me guys - get to him now."

"Shit, he's got a gun - take him out, take him out."

"Get the President, get the President."

"Shit..."

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"Hello, I'm Clinton Buller and in breaking news the President has been shot. I
repeat, the President has been shot. A short time ago, President Bush was shot
while entering the stage of the Republican rally in New York. Details are still
coming to hand, but we've been able to gather that a male within the crowd opened
fire shortly after President Bush entered the stage. Despite being brought down
by Secret Service sniper fire, he still managed to get two shots off, with at
least one bullet hitting the President.

President Bush was rushed to a nearby hospital not five minutes ago, exact detail
are yet unknown. It has also being reported that his assailant was pronounced
dead at the scene. Also.... hang on, I'm sorry. I'm just getting a fresh update
and..... oh, god.

Ladies and Gentlemen, it has just been reported that the President had died. I
say again, the President has died due to his wounds suffered not fifteen minutes
ago by a gunman in new York.

For more, we now cross to our New York corrospondant. . . ."

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"Well, I never thought that I would be doing an autopsy on the President," said
Malcom Warner to his offsider Max.

"Defiently have to agree with you on that one." Replied Max, "It's strange
though, the first time I ever saw the President is on a slab."

"Indeed, young Max, anyway all this procastination is not going to get the job
complete. Can you please start prepping for the body with I start with the head."

Malcom pulled down his visor and started the mini-saw. Max twinged slightly when
he saw this, he always did - but for some reason more-so with it being used on
the President. He had his back turned as he prepared the intruments for the next
part of the autopsy. The job was nearly complete when he heard Malcom cry out in
suprise.

"What, what is it?" Max asked as he hurried over.

"My god, would you look at this." Macom responded as he pointed to the now
exposed brain of the President. "What do you notice?"

As Max struggled to remember his training, Malcom just continued to stare.

"Ohh, ummm, that's it - the frontal lobe is enlarged."

"That's correct, in fact it's one of the largest I've ever seen."

"What does it mean?" Max asked in earnest.

"What it means, is that George W. Bush was actually a genius."