‘Sir, Princeton’s in the Rose Garden.’ Ron Butterfield looked incredulously at the junior Agent. ‘What is he doing in the Rose Garden?’ ‘Digging a hole, Sir.’ Sighing, Ron walked outside. ‘Sam, what are you doing?’ ‘I’m digging for worms. For POTUS.’ ‘Why does the President need worms?’ Sam kept digging in the frozen soil. ‘Not the President. POTUS.’ Ron was confused. And cold. ‘Sam!’ Sam turned round. ‘Yeah?’ ‘What the Hell are you digging for worms in the Rose Garden for?’ ‘There was an injured pigeon on our doorstep this morning. I bought it in and now I’m trying to find worms for it to eat.’ ‘Sam, you can’t dig up the White House grounds. There are sensors…’ Sam lifted the plastic box towards the Secret Service agent. ‘Yeah, and worms.’ Ron jerked his head back, away from the small pink slimy creatures. ‘Just don’t okay?’ ‘Okay.’ Sam followed Ron back inside, carefully carrying the plastic box into the kitchenette. He sat on the floor and lifted one of the wriggling worms out of Josh’s empty sandwich box. ‘Here you go POTUS.’ Within a short while, people all eager to try feeding the hungry bird surrounded Sam. It became clear there was no way there would be enough worms for one each. Someone volunteered to go in search of some other food. Then there was a long discussion about exactly what food pigeons ate. On to Part Three... Home