Showing posts with label Predator Drone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Predator Drone. Show all posts

“Smokey the Bear’s Head Will Be Mounted Over the White House Fireplace Mantel for This,” Vows President Trump, continuing to blame California’s Wildfires on Poor Forest Management

Angeles National Forest, California  --


By Robert W. Armijo

While standing with the governor of California, Jerry Brown Jr. and governor-elect, Gavin Newsom at an outdoor  press conference against the backdrop of still smoldering wildfire debris, President Trump signed a death warrant authorizing the assassination for the first American citizen on U.S. soil by the federal government as authorized under the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA).

“There,” said President Trump. “Smokey the Bear’s head will be mounted over the White House fireplace mantel for this."

According the White House, Smoke the Bear is directly responsible for mismanagement of California’s forests, resulting in its historical wildfires.


“As I speak,” said President Trump. “A Predator drone is flying high up above our heads scanning this crowd with its facial recognition technology, looking in its vast, vast data banks of every American citizen’s face for a match with the wildfire terrorist, Smokey the Bear.”

Suddenly, a hellfire missile streaked across the blue sky and into the adjacent forest causing a giant explosion and ensuing forest fire.

“Looks like Smokey the Bear just got smoked,” jokingly said President Trump, as several fire engines turned on their sirens and headed off in the direction of the plume.







Copyright © 2018 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Photo(s) Courtesy of wpclipart.com

Atari's E.T. Game So Bad Landfill Contaminated, Closed and Placed on EPA Superfund Cleanup List

Armijo, New Mexico –

Everybody knew the Atari E.T. game was bad when it was released back in 1982.

So bad, in fact, that video game historians blame it for the collapse of the home video game industry in 1983. 

However, nobody would have ever guessed that the 8-bit music track game was so super bad that it would continue to contaminate the environment decades later.

“After taking soil samples from the landfill where the Atari E.T. games cartridges where unearth, lab tests have determined the level of toxic contamination is so high, it warrants an immediate shutdown of the facility and placement on the superfund cleanup list for decontamination,” read the EPA press release. “So as of 0800 hours today, the EPA has taken over the landfill, permanently closing it to the public.”

Shortly thereafter, white unmarked vans and men wearing hazardous materials (HAZMAT) suits soon arrived at the waste disposal facility. 

Despite having been cordoned off with police caution tape, however, a number of local children were spotted at the landfill, looking for copies of the E.T. games for themselves.

“I pulled up on a group of them,” said Officer Jose Martinez of the Armijo Police Department. 

However, the children did not yield to the police and bolted off on their bikes instead.

“One had an E.T. game cartage in his basket, so I decided to chase him,” said Officer Martinez.

As Officer Martinez called his dispatcher for back up, the pursuit was joined by a number of white unmarked vans, men in HAZMAT suits as well as men wearing business suits and dark sunglasses.

“We were closing in on the kid,” said Officer Martinez. “When all of a sudden his bike began to fly up in the air.”

Both police and government officials called off the pursuit and called in homeland security.

“They took him out with a Hellfire missile launched from a predator drone platform,” said Officer Martinez. 

Later, men in HAZMAT suits recovered the Atari E.T. game cartage from the twisted wreckage of the kid’s bike. 

“The basket was still smoldering,” said Officer Martinez. “Good news though. The contents were recovered undamaged.”

The military has since taken control of the landfill and posted a sign stating, “Welcome to Area 52”.

Copyright © 2008-2014 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Photo(s) Courtesy of:

White House Trick-Or-Treaters Get a Fright Night Flight with a Predator Drone

Washington, D.C. –

Gathered in the Rose Garden, which was temporally converted into a makeshift graveyard with styrofoam grave markers craved with the names of the terrorists taken out by the infamous predator drone, President Obama and the first lady hosted their annual Halloween party just for kids.

With the president dressed up as the Angel of Death and the first lady as a fairy godmother, the two greeted a throng of mummies, witches, monsters and skeletons at the door.

During the Halloween party a mummy walked up to the president and asked him, “Where’s your scythe, Mr. Death?”

Obama lifted up his skeleton facemask and crouched down to talk to the boy face-to-face.

“I’m glad you asked me that kid,” said Obama, reaching into his black cloak pulling out a remote control device. “Oh, here it is.”

“That’s your scythe?” questioned the mummy.

“Yeah, in a way,” said Obama as he fully extended the antenna. “But, um, its been updated.”

Soon a crowd of children gathered around the president as he begun to explain what each of the buttons, knobs, dials and toggles could do.

“But you never,” emphasized Obama. “And I mean never, push this red button unless you are absolutely sure your client is in your crosshairs.”

“What’s ‘client’ mean?” asked a witch.

“Yeah, and what are ‘crosshairs’?” asked a monster.

“Say kids, who wants to see a movie?” asked Obama, knowing it would be faster at answering the kids’ questions. All the kids lifted up their hands in the air.

“I’ll be right back, honey,” Obama yelled out to the first lady. “Come on kids. Follow me to the war room.”

As the children emerged from the war room masks removed, a frigid look was fixed on their faces.

“Well, kids,” said Obama as he led them back to the Halloween party. “What do think of my new scythe now?”

“Is one, one up there nnnow?” stuttered a child, as he pointed out to the night sky.

“Yup,” responded Obama, whipping out the remote control box and extending the antenna. “Wanna see?”

“No!” yelled out the kids as they clung to Death’s robe.

“Please Mr. Death,” pleaded another child. “Don’t call in a predator drone strike here.”

“Why not?” asked Obama from behind his skeleton mask.

“Because, we’re Americans?” answered another child.

“That never stopped me before. Why should it now?” replied Death as he began laughing like a mad man, while pushing buttons, turning knobs and flipping toggles seemingly randomly on the remote control box. Sending the children running for cover, screaming.

“I can hardly wait until I get my Rose Garden back,” said the first lady as she shut off the bathroom light in the bedroom suite on the second floor of the White House.

“I don’t know about that,” said Obama as he looked over at his Angel of Death costume he hung over a chair at the side of his bed, predator drone remote control box on top.

“What do you mean?” said the first lady, while getting into bed.

“I like the way it looks now,” replied Obama. “Did you see the looks on those kids’ faces? That look of panic.”

“It looked more like terror to me,” said the first lady.

“All their little faces peeking out from under the punch bowl table,” sighed Obama. “Looking up to the night sky for my predator drone. Let’s do that again for Thanksgiving. What do you say?”

Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.