Farce™ Cover Magazine

Commander Pete’s Very Bad, No Good, Totally Wild Confirmation Hearing

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Diplomacy on the Rocks: A Fictional Satire for Entertainment Purposes
This is a fictional story. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.

Pete Gregson had always dreamed of greatness. A former TV host turned self-proclaimed “military expert,” Pete had a knack for bold statements, bigger hand gestures, and even bigger ambitions. Now, as the president’s pick for Secretary of Defense, Pete was ready to show the Senate Armed Services Committee why he was the guy for the job.

What followed, however, was an audition for the ages—just not in the way Pete intended.


Boots, Brawn, and Big Promises

Pete started strong, delivering an impassioned opening statement. “I’m here to restore the warrior spirit to our military! It’s all about dust on the boots, grit in the soul, and strength in the fight,” Pete proclaimed, pounding the table for effect.

“Could you elaborate on your specific plans to improve readiness?” asked Senator Miranda Clark, an unimpressed committee member.

“Well,” Pete began, “step one: dusty boots. Step two: more dusty boots. Step three: lethal warriors who know how to… you know… be lethal.”

The senators exchanged glances. Pete, undeterred, nodded proudly, like he’d just dropped the secret recipe for military success.


The Combat Conundrum

Things heated up when Senator Clara Evans asked Pete about his views on women in combat roles. “Mr. Gregson, you’ve said before that combat isn’t a place for women. Do you still stand by that statement?”

Pete leaned in, his smile as wide as his lack of preparation. “Not at all, Senator! I’m all for women in combat… as long as they meet the standards. And by standards, I mean real standards. No freebies.”

“Are you suggesting women don’t already meet the standards?” Senator Evans pressed.

“No, no, no,” Pete stammered. “I just think, uh, trophies shouldn’t be handed out. Combat isn’t summer camp.”

“Neither is this hearing,” Senator Evans deadpanned.


Barstool Brainstorming

After the grilling, Pete decided to unwind at The Rusty Anchor, a dive bar near Capitol Hill. Seated at the bar with a drink in hand, Pete decided it was the perfect place to refine his foreign policy.

“What would you do about an alliance in the Pacific?” Pete asked the bartender, a grizzled man named Gus.

“What kind of alliance are we talking about?” Gus replied, drying a glass.

“Good question,” Pete mumbled, scribbling on a napkin. “Note to self: define ‘alliance.’”

By the end of the night, Pete’s napkin was full of ideas: “Ask Gus about NATO,” “Google: What is Ukraine doing?” and “Do alliances even need names?”


Lost in the Details

The next day, Pete returned to the hearing room, napkin in pocket and confidence restored. “I’ve thought long and hard about these issues,” Pete declared, holding up the crumpled napkin. “This represents my vision.”

The committee stared in silence as Pete presented bullet points like, “Get tougher,” “Spend money wisely,” and “Win wars.”

“Mr. Gregson,” said Senator Walter Davis, “can you name three countries in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations?”

“Of course!” Pete replied confidently. “There’s… uh… China. No, wait, scratch that. Um, Korea? The north one? Or south? Hang on…”


Pete’s confirmation hearing didn’t go as planned, but it taught a valuable lesson: confidence can only take you so far. While Pete had charm and catchy soundbites, what he lacked was preparation—and a basic understanding of his job.

In the end, Pete learned the hard way that leadership isn’t about talking big or looking the part; it’s about knowing what you’re doing. And maybe, just maybe, leaving the bar brainstorming sessions for after the job interview.


Lesson to be learned: Confidence might open the door, but preparation is what gets you through it. If you don’t know the basics, you’ll end up lost—and possibly trying to negotiate foreign policy with a bartender named Gus.