Bill Clinton thinks we're smart!
(What a retard)

        John and I were visiting with Congress one afternoon giving them some ideas about all sorts of stuff. We told them our plans on how to put government regulations on the amount of lint that everyone has in their bellybuttons at any given moment. We told them that all members from the R-Team should be exempt from taxes. We also told them of our best idea ever, which is to pull the moon onto earth somewhere most people don't care about, like Nebraska or something. That way, if people were feeling fat or overweight or both, they could go stand on the moon and feel 1/6 their weight. This way we don't have to worry about making extra-large space suits, and it won't cost them a couple days of space travel (How's that for ingenious?).

        They must have really liked our ideas because they immediately put our well-thought out plans into a thing they called "The Shredder." They must have done this so all our ideas don't wind up in the wrong hands.

        John and I were famished by the time that we were done there, so we headed up the road to look for someplace to eat. We came to this nice-looking restaurant on the 1600 block of Pennsylvania Avenue, and thought it looked as good as we were going to get. There was a long lineout in front, so we thought we'd try the rear entrance. That's where we saw him. It was HIM! The most known face throughout the world. It was Jim Bornith. John and I couldn't believe we were this close to him. We didn't want to interrupt because he was talking to some guy. I wouldn't have known who he was except that he was wearing a name tag that read:

Hello, my name is
Bill Clinton

That name seemed familiar to me as well. I guess he'd have to be pretty important to be talking to the James Ernest Bornith.

        John and I then remembered that we are the R-Team, so that makes us pretty darn important too. So John and I walked in and pushed Bill away so we could talk to Jim. John, being the coniving one he is, turned to Mr. Clinton and offered this advice:

"Whatever your problem is, just lie and say the dog did it. It works everytime."

Just before we could get close enough to Mr. Bornith to have a conversation with him, we were quickly escorted off the premises by men in dark suits that all had hearing aids.

        Later in the year, I happened to be watching television when, to my surprise, that Bill guy was on every network. Apparantly he had taken the advice of the R-Team, and was now paying the consequences of being a retard.

        So I guess if there is any moral to this story (yeah, like Clinton has any morals at all), it would have to be this:

Don't lie about doing a dog.