The issue became so divisive among cabinet members (as it were) that it had to be referred to the Senate where every member (as it were) wanted to name the cruise missile after his own dick, if he had one, till the debate became so rancorous and destructive that the Supreme Court had to step in.

But the stalemate had already lasted years and during that time we were attacked by nuclear bombs several thousand times and now all our key cities were wiped out, our electrical production was shut down, and clean water was so hard to find that people were forming into small mobs and killing each other to drink the saliva and blood of the dead, and meanwhile we were unable to strike back because we hadn't yet decided whose dick our main weapon was to be named after.

Finally the president, from the temporary White House in Vancouver because the one in Washington had been burned down by the British, came up with a compromise to name the cruise missile after Klaus Kinski's dick, Klaus Kinski, which also helped assuage the Secretary of Defense since even though the new cruise missile wasn't gonna be named after his dick, Nastassia Kinski, it was gonna be named after the dick of the father of his dick's namesake, and 2 outta 3 ain't bad. And also the nation was saved.

But then, why is it called the cruise missile and not the klaus kinski missile? Well, it's because just before the Klaus Kinski missile went into production, Klaus Kinski called the White House to say that he'd changed the name of his dick from Klaus Kinski to Tom Cruise because he thought being so self-centered as to name your dick after yourself in a post-war era wasn't gonna cut it (as it were).

PS: when the president heard this, he was so moved that he stopped naming his dick after his vice president and named it after his own first name but with a "y" added at the end, followed by "boy" -- a formulation that had proven successful for him in the past when passing out names for other dicks.

PPS: Meanwhile, the guy who invented the cruise missile felt so bad about the way things had turned out, that, to get the vile taste out of his mouth, he invented the schmooze missile. The schmooze missile was like a cruise missile except instead of going out and just cruising and cruising and cruising, up and down the streets of your town, relentlessly searching for its target, never stopping never "delivering its ordnance" till there is a 99.9% match on the little match-o-meter that comprises most of its neo-cortex, instead of doing that, the schmooze missile went up and down the streets of your town schmoozing everyone in sight, regardless of who they were or their station in life, sometimes even knocking on doors of total strangers and inviting itself in for dinner and all the while schmoozing the living fuck out of its hosts so they don't even realize when their refrigerator is empty and all their pots are dirty in the sink and they are still burping and narcolepting out while the schmooze missile is back out on the street, schmooozing schmoozing schmoozing until its touched 99.9 per cent of all people in creation with its loving kindness salvation object.

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