“I’ve always felt like a Puerto Rican,” Joe mumbled. “Dancing street gangs, switchblades, really loud parades. These are my heritage.”

Finnegan placed a hand on his arm. She said, quietly, “We’ve moved on to Ukraine, Grandpa.”

“Has Putin invaded Puerto Rico?!?” he asked, distressed.

“A hurricane hit Puerto Rico,” she said quietly. The Joint Chiefs of Staff shifted in their seats like delicate tapeworms were wiggling out of their anuses. But this was only true of two of them.

“Not my beautiful island!,” Joe said, his eyes shiny with tears.

“Sir, Putin and his proxies are threatening to use low yield nuclear devices in Ukraine if the annexed regions are invaded by Ukrainian forces,” Mark said. He paused to rub his lips together to make sure his lip-gloss was still applied evenly.

“Why would Putin nuke Puerto Rico?” Joe asked.

“Sir, I believe the implication is that he would use nuclear weapons in the Ukraine theater,” Mark said.

“Oh, I had a fantastic meal at a Sizzler in Manatí, Puerto Rico,” Joe said. “It was just like an American Sizzler, but with more Mexican food.”

“Yes, sir,” Mark said. His eyes implored Finnegan to help him.

“Grandpa, you need to listen to the General. He has something important to discuss with you,” she said.

“I know that,” Joe snapped. “I’m not stupid. Putin is a bad man.”

“Yes, sir,” Mark said. “Putin bad.”

“That’s why we bombed his pipeline,” Joe said.

“Not officially, sir.”

“Remember, Grandpa,” Finnegan said, “We’re not supposed to talk about that to anyone.”

“Why not?” Joe asked. “It was a tough decision. I made it. I’m the President, dammit.”

“We just can’t admit to it, sir,” Mark said. “It’s a secret.”

“A sexy secret?” Joe asked, suddenly interested. “Ashley and I have…”

“No!” Finnegan shouted. “No, no, no.”

“Ashley’s my daughter,” Joe said.

“Don’t make me get the squirt bottle,” Finnegan said sternly.

“We need to decide our policy in case Putin does use a nuclear device in the Ukrainian theater,” Mark said quickly.

“We nuke back!” Joe said. “We drop enough bombs to make the rubble bounce.”

“But, sir…” Mark began.

“I have decided!” Joe yelled.

Finnegan raised a hand when Mark went to speak again.

“It’s a bold decision, Grandpa,” Finnegan said. “Very Presidential.”

“I’ll wipe Putin Rico off the map if I have to!” Joe said, pounding his fist on the desk. Everyone winced at the audible snap of a bone breaking in his hand.

“Russia, Grandpa. Russia,” Finnegan said.

“Do they have Sizzlers?” Joe asked. “I love the salad bar. All the olives and cottage cheese you want. Paradise!”

Everyone around the table lapsed into embarrassed silence as Joe made munchy-snacky noises as he pretended to be eating.

Finally he said, rolling a dozen Rs, “Puerrrrrrrrrrrr-toe Reeeeco.”