So, I am currently bored, so this is what I wrote for the caption of this photo:

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Barack reaches for the phone, knocking over the documents on his desk in the haste to stop the constant ringing.
"You'd think someone would do this for me." He mutters, rolling his eyes and turning back to rearranging the once organized pile.
"President Obama, we have a problem." His secretary's nostril filled tone bores down the line.
"What is is Cheryl?" He keeps his tone civilized as the hangover from the 10 parties thumps in his head. His feet are hurting from the dancing, although he's sure that it was a great calf workout.
"They pizza company has refused to put bacon on your pizza." Static filled the silence.
"Did you ask them?"
"Yes sir, I did. But they refused saying that it was company policy not to accept changes to the set toppings."
He sighed, his hand trembling on the top of the pile of collated documents.
"Put me through to them please."
"Yes sir."

There were a few rings and then a loud click from the other side of the phone.
" Welcome to -" The whine of the 13 year olds voice was cut off by a slightly aggravated president.
"I'd like to speak to the manager please." He waited patiently, tracing the letters of his name on the plaque infront of him.
"Hello? Who is this? Is this the guy who wanted bacon on his pizza?"
"Yes indeed this is. Good afternoon sir, I'm -"
"Look. I don't care if you're the president of the united states. It's against company policy to add toppings -"
"But I am -"
"I don't care. Try another pizza company. One that doesn't get punk kid's adding stupid things to their pizza's and then sending them back."
The dial tone.
President Obama calmly picked up the phone and then called his secretary.
"Can you send in some chilli dog's instead?"
This was going to be a loooong term.