Sgt. Smith ran into the compound of the farm house followed by Cpl. Smith and Pvt.’s Smith, Smith and Smith. While the others checked out the two buildings and the red taxi, Sgt. Smith took a look around. He saw a rug laying in the yard. Seemed a little odd to him. He walked over to it and picked it up. There was a hole in the ground. He shined a light down the hole and called out,

“Who’s down there!”

“No one”, was the answer he got.

Sgt. Smith was one of the U.S Army’s elite soldiers. He wasn’t buying that. Someone was down in that hole. Heck, Sgt. Smith could see him. The guy looked like one of those street bums in New York. The smell was like an open sewer.

“Okay. Now, get your sorry butt out of there. I don’t want to have to come down there and get you”, the Sgt. ordered. He really didn’t want to go down there.

The guy climbs out of the hole. The Sgt. told him to stay back, both for security reasons and aesthetic reasons. The guy hands over a gun. Then he tells Sgt. Smith that he’s, “Sadaam Hussein, President of the Republic. I want to negotiate”.

“Yea, well, President Bush sends his regards. You come along peacefully and you won’t get hurt. We’ll get you a bath. You smell, man.”

“Just remember that I’m the President of the Republic and I expect to be treated with the respect and dignity due to a head of state”.

“Uh. Well, to me you’re just a rat in a hole, just a rat in a hole”.