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In a mere fourteen days the mighty United States has been brought to its knees. With tortured, writhing, horribly ugly addiction withdrawal symptoms, to be precise. Since Caribbean pirates assailed and hijacked the USS Achilles Heel, the world’s largest coffee supertanker bound for Manhattan just two weeks ago, America’s lifeblood cups of Joe have dwindled faster than Krispy Kreme doughnuts at a Sheriff’s convention. Dear ol’ Uncle Sam, no longer able to function without his normal double-grande-with-mocha-and-cream Java-induced hyperactive buzz, was last seen curled in the fetal position on a closed Starbucks sidewalk, fitfully sobbing, sweating profusely, shaking with tremors, and sucking both thumbs.
The supertanker, carrying the entire year’s South and Central American coffee bean harvest, was seized off Key Rambo in a daredevil daylight raid. At that time the US Navy received Achilles’ radio reports that a stealth rowboat appeared from out of nowhere and overtook them with incredible speed. The tanker’s crew, however, believing the Jolly Roger-flying tiny vessel’s approach to be a prank, calmly invited its haggard, motley crew aboard. The buccaneers, armed with jugs of XXX homebrewed rum, then quickly incapacitated the tanker crew with a rapid exchange of shots. Both ships next mysteriously vanished off radar screens into an inebriation fog.
The pirate spokesman, calling himself Jack Sparrow, shortly afterward issued a Twitter threat to JoJo Starbuck himself that the entire coffee cargo would be hastily buried on an unmarked island if they were not fully appeased. Unfortunately, their demands, of one beautiful, virgin British damsel with perfect teeth for each of his six-man crew, plus Pittsburgh Pirates World Series tickets, appear absolutely impossible to deliver.
Growing more desperate for their coffee fixes with each passing hour, the barely functional Americans countered by offering Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, and the Jersey Shore guidettes, plus Tampa Bay Bucs football season tickets, only to be scoffed at in response. The Yanks then upped the offer to include all the gold in Flava Flav’s teeth, to which Sparrow tweeted back, “Shiver me timbers! Nice try, but no cappuchino.”
Should a ransom for the coffee bean mother lode not be agreed upon with the next day or two, very few mentally coherent Americans are likely to remain, and the entire population faces collapse into babbling pools of jello. Jack Sparrow and his pirates of the Caribbean clearly have the United States by the short and curlies now. Having successfully exploited America’s Achilles Heel, the deathly weakened, caffeine-deprived Yanks appear certain to cry Uncle. Look for the Jolly Roger to fly over Washington by week’s end. Arrrrrr!
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