I'm Colin Powell, and I'm the head of the Department of Homeland Security. I'm afraid the job isn't very glamorous. For my own protection, I have to drive around in a converted fire engine that's been heavily armored. Really heavily armored; as I'm driving to work in the rain I notice a tapping sound on my windshield, and when I look I realize that flashes of fire are erupting from the gunports of the armored bank car in front of me. It's full of terrorists trying to kill me! Fortunately the bullets bouce right off the windshield. That's the tapping sound. I thumb the switch that sends a burst of machine gun fire back at them from the fire engine's weapons, but my own bullets bounce off their armor too. I give up in dejection. This kind of thing happens all the time and nothing comes of it either way. Anyway, I have more pressing problems as I've forgotten my cell phone at home. Donald Rumsfeld's going to chew me out when I get to work. I'm supposed to have my cell phone with me so he can reach me at all times.

I arrive at work, which looks more like a big garage than a Washington office. I spend my day fighting terrorists, many of whom come right to my office to fight. They aren't very bright or competent. Truth be told neither am I, but at least I'm better than them. An errand takes me to a Wild West-themed doughnut shop out in the desert, where (because I'm Colin Powell) the owner tells an employee to give me a free bag of hot sourdough doughnuts. As he's filling up the bag, the surly employee makes disparaging comments about the intelligence of Homestar Runner. I realize that in the course of the dream a slow transformation has been taking place. I'm still Colin Powell, but somehow I'm also Homestar Runner. This does not in any way add to or detract from my ability to fight terrorism.