[ IP ] A new kind of enemy .

“ Hey Bartender can I get another drink. ” The stupid kid just kept staring at that TV in the corner, all the networks showing the constant feed of the invasion of Iraq. I was tired of hearing about it, even looking at it. The look for “ The Weapons of Mass Destruction ” that wasn ’ t there, the bullshit I started. I did a good job making things look one way when it was another. I just wanted to get drunk as usual after a job well done, spinning the lies. I put my White House badge in my pocket as it fell out of my wallet. “ Damn it, KID!!! ” Slamming my palm on the oak wood, “ GIVE ME THE BOTTLE AT LEAST! ” The Bartender twitched, but didn ’ t turn around. The volume of the TV only became louder. I jumped from my stool and headed towards him, the screen coming into view. The trembling of the ground in scene got my gaze. 
 
 I thought it was an elephant at first. The creature on the square box made a roaring sound, a crackling, an unearthly sound. Solders in the shot receded behind shambled walls and staring up, flashes of firearms coming behind windows with their aim placed up. It was large, a beast of ripped skin, of unnatural vision. The bones and rot of teeth and the blackest burning holes for eyes ever broadcast on screen. The camera crew swung up and down as the anchor talk over the footage. The sky turned dark as if ink was spilling on an blank page, spreading. 
 The Closed Caption was scrolling on the screen; I read it as fast as I could. Those type of scrolls were always delayed around 40 seconds. 
 
 The Anchor for CNN, which I could only guessed since the logo appeared to be in error, was commenting on the footage of an American platoon going against an Iraq military unit. The unit had held themselves in an apartment complex and was about to get into an engagement. The shrieking of the giant animal had delayed that interaction and both sides of the conflict had changed their mind about the deal. 
 
 My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. My coat lifted off my stool and I swung out the door. Gunfire and screaming came from the corner once more before shutting the door behind me. I flipped up my cell and I already knew who was calling me. “ Is it real, ” I stated, “ Is it real or is this someone ’ s idea of... ” Cheryl cut me off, “ It ’ s real. We don ’ t know what it is, but it ’ s real, ” I could hear some typing on her end, “ I ’ m logging on now, getting any reports from the area. The President wants answers. ” 
 
 “ Well, make me an appointment in Samarra, I ’ ll get them. ” 

