"Tom?"

"Yes, Mr. President," the voice on the other side of the line answered.

"You'd better get that Homeland Security mess squared away, if you need help, call the Space Hamzters."  

Decripto Hamzter, who had been listening on the phone-tap, said, "Hey Chief, expect a call from Tom Ridge."

"Warm up the think tank," Chief Hamzter ordered.

A rumble came from the garage as the engine of the T-82  armored behemoth fired. Screeching and yelling, the safety consultancy team dashed down the stairs and clambered in. A few minutes later, the tank with THINK spray-painted in bright orange on its sides, sped down Pennsylvania Avenue. Chief and Fashionable Hamzters followed in a red Masseratti roadster.

In his office, Tom Ridge greeted Consultant Hamzter and asked, "Coffee?"

          Yes, thank you," Consultant Hamzter accepted a cup and opened a window.

          Brr, it's cold."

         The furry consultant took a seat, and curled up in the chair. Finished slurping coffee, he tossed the cup out the window. "What can I do for you?"

        Big trouble, Hamzter. People are getting bored with my yellow and orange alerts. They don't pay attention anymore. I'm becoming a laughing stock."

          Give them red."

          They'll get bored with that, too. And then start guffawing when they see me."

          Go international."

          The Europeans don't want to play."

         No, they don't panic easily, but won't laugh in your face." Consultant Hamzter wrinkled his nose while thinking. "You could ask them to cancel flights."

          What for?"

         After passengers have spent hours going through security checks, you tell them the flight is cancelled. That'll get their attention."

          Um, and what if the French won't agree?"

          You tell them you'll shoot the flight down."

          Good idea, Hamzter." Ridge smiled broadly for a few seconds, then furrowed his brow. "How do we justify our actions?"

          I'll call my technicals."

Two techno Hamzters came in and deposited a box on the Secretary of Homeland Security's desk.

          Secretary Ridge closed the window. "How is the box going to help me?"

          You turn the big knob in the center clockwise and adjust it to the required level of terrorist chatter."

          Ridge turned the knob to full volume. Deafening chatter filled the room. An Osama Bin Laden figure popped out of the box.

          This is good." Tom Ridge picked up the phone. "Hello, Interpol? This is Tom Ridge calling from Washington, hear the terrorist chatter in the background? Cancel me a couple of flights from Heathrow and Charles de Gaulle."

         Consultant Hamzter nodded with approval as he wrote an invoice for a planeload of peanut butter, to be delivered at the Hamzter beach house in Cuba.

          Ridge inspected the invoice. "Hey, why Cuba?"

          We're gonna sell a Bush chatterbox to Fidel."

          But we have a trade embargo."

          This isn't trade."

          Twenty minutes later, Decripto Hamzter listened to the White House tap.

          Mr. President, the Frogs and Limeys agreed to cancel flights."

          Oh, really?"

          Yes, Sir."

          And how does that help with the War on Terror?"

          Ridge laughed. "Angry French passengers could destabilize France."