It’s a small par three and Barack lines up for an easy straight drive down the center. He puts his hip into it and the shot is all fairway just before in front of the sand traps. The crowd is ecstatic. There is chanting and celebratory firing of rifles in the air. Hundreds rally together to mount the convoy of mismatched trucks and vehicles. Militants fill every open space on the vehicles. They raise their weapons and cheer as the convoy rides out of the shattered and smoldering city of Mosul.
Barack’s luck is holding out, he slices on hole 5 but a strong wind picked up and blew his ball onto the green. Not bad he thinks as sits back in the cart. The convoy arrived in Tikrit to light resistance, as most the government troops stripped off their uniforms and left their weapons in neat piles before fleeing. Street battles are brutal but quickly over. Police stations and other government buildings are set ablaze. The militants go house to house raping the town’s women and rounding up government officials and army officers. Handbills describing the rule of law and the penalties for disloyalty are distributed. The penalty is always death. The government officials are crucified. They are crucified, with signs wrapped around their bodies as a warning. The army officers are publicly beheaded. The heads are piled in the town center and major intersections. The militants have become brutally efficient at terror. They leave the city in flames as they head out. This time their convoy includes lightly armored vehicles that had been provided to the Iraqi Army by the US Government. They are a fine addition to the Jihadist’s parade of death.
He’s on the green in one, on a curved par 3 no less. Barack can’t believe his incredible luck, he’s having the best game of his life. The convoy links up with Islamic State Troops that had just burned Fallujah. They whip themselves into a furry as they ready to make the push for Baghdad.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt Mr. President but their saying that it’s a crisis.” Barack looks at the aid and replies with a sneer “It’s always a crisis.” And, I was having such a great game Barack thought to himself.