"Hell of a way to spend Christmas Eve, huh?" said the CIA man, gazing into the darkness beyond the rail of the swift boat. The lieutenant seemed unconcerned. "Put that cigarette out," he said. "You want every Khmer Rouge between here and the Mekong Delta shooting at us?" The CIA man pursed his lips, and tossed the smoke into the river. "We're almost there," said Lieutenant Kerry. "Well, we did get sidetracked a bit," said the CIA man. "I don't get sidetracked," replied the lieutenant, testily, thumbing towards the crewman on his left. "That son of a bitch knocked me off course." The CIA man studied the shoreline. The boat engine softly murmured, "pocketa-pocketa-pocketa."

"Here it is," as the boat pulled up to the shore. "Hold this for me," the CIA man said, handing the lieutenant his hat as he pulled out a map. Suddenly, a rice bin burst into flames nearby. "Shove it!" yelled the lieutenant, as both the crew and the CIA man looked confused. "Shove off! Shove Off!", and the boat turned down river. A few miles later, Lieutenant Kerry fingered the hat. "Sure was lucky," he thought to himself. "I can use this when it starts to get a little chilly, a little windy...."

"What did you say it was?" asked Mrs. Kerry. "It's Wendy's Chili, ma'am," repeated the clerk. Kerry's wife shot him a look worse than any VC. "Don't worry, dear," he sighed. "Take a few bites. Dinner's waiting on the bus."

Inspired by Powerline, the source of this powersurge in traffic.