Constitutional Crisis (Part 2 of 2)

"You know our enemies are innovative and resourceful, Shimmy. And so are we."

"I'm not going to help you."

"They never stop thinking about new ways to harm the Constitution, and neither do we."

He jumped off my litter box. He stuck in his head again.

"You won't find anything in there that Alberto Gonzales hasn't already seen," I said.

"Shimmy, we've made great progress containing our cities and silencing lawmakers since the planes." The President of the War on Terror stuck his rude, quivering head deeper into the opening of my Tora Bora litter box. "But this bill gives the intelligence community tools they need while we are at heightened risk."

"I have no idea what you're saying. Is it from the Latin mass?"

"The bill I signed elevates the importance of scanning Americans," he said, turning to face me. "While screening Congress, I will work with cities to continue high-risk progress toward a new attack."

The President of the War on Terror propped himself back on the lip of my Tora Bora box, which was now too dirty and repulsive to use again.

A whiff of sulfur clashed with the delicate waft of three dustballs from the corner of the room where the bookshelf touches flush against the wall. I fell asleep yesterday waiting for a water bug that never came.

"I know what you're looking for," I said. "It's not there. You know I'd mail the Constitution back to my cousin Winter before I'd ever let you touch it."

"That clump in the back of your litter box is a perfect place for burying."

His shoulders crouched slightly. His left cheek twitched.

"Shimmy, I rescued three Special Forces soldiers from a 30-foot-long rattlesnake in North Waziristan, on the lawless border region between Pakistan and Afghanistan. I defused a Taliban rocket-propelled grenade with my teeth. I intercepted and decoded messages for Azzan the American that Bob Herbert planted in the New York Times."

"Don't lie to me. Your mangy little coconut eyes don't even know how to read."

"I tell you what. All I have to do is think about Ayman al- Zawahiri and the Taliban's Toyota Hilux pickup trucks run out of gas and their tires go flat."

"Get out of my house before I make Mrs. Alito cry again!"

"This home makes some progress, Shimmy, but I will not pass legislation with my terrific wingspan in the air."