Last week, our Twitter game show, Questioningly, asked participants to create titles for the inevitable Petraeus movie. 

Many titles played off the similarity between “general” and “genital,” or “undercover” and “under cover.” Others went straight for military jokes: the best of these was “Dishonorable Discharge,” which was submitted by @turnoffdark and @yamageo. And then there were the entries that isolated the tension between Paula Broadwell and Jill Kelley to yield “Single White Gmail” puns.

Click-through to discover the winner of this week’s contest.

Want to play Questioningly? Follow us on Twitter @newyorker, and look for a new question every Friday!

Cartoon by Kim Warp. For more from this week’s issue: http://nyr.kr/QTKVP2

As the baffling and then burlesque and then baroquely burlesque affair enveloping General Petraeus and his friends, of both sexes, fell upon us like another hurricane last week, it seemed to confirm once again Philip Roth’s fifty-year-old assertion that you can’t write good satirical fiction in America because reality will quickly outdo anything you might invent. The Petraeus story rapidly expanded, novella-like, into a kind of “Fifty Shades of Khaki.”

In Comment this week, Adam Gopnik writes about the Petraeus scandal, Philip Roth’s retirement from novels, and human nature.

What, beyond evidence of at least one adulterous relationship, is there to be found among the volumes of communication and, perhaps, official—maybe even classified—documents that have become part of the Petraeus scandal? First, a distinction: there’s classified and then there’s classified. “I wouldn’t get too excited about the Paula Broadwell documents, unless we see evidence otherwise,” Jane Mayer says on this week’s Political Scene podcast. Mayer, who wrote about the leaking of national-security documents in the case of Thomas Drake, a former executive at the National Security Agency, warns us, “There are an awful lot of things that are classified that are very mundane.”

Still, something prompted David Petraeus’s resignation from his position as director of the C.I.A., right? On this week’s podcast, Steve Coll and Patrick Radden Keefe join Mayer and host Dorothy Wickenden to discuss the legal and political ramifications of the scandal being called the “love pentagon.”

Click-through for more.

The F.B.I.’s request to access the private Gmail account maintained by General Petraeus would have been only one of 34,614 such requests Google received from governments as well as civil litigants around the world between January and June, 2012.

John Seabrook talks to Kent Walker, Google’s general counsel, about how these requests are handled, and how the Electronic Communications Privacy Act affected the Petraeus scandal: http://nyr.kr/W7O4aH

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—In response to a high volume of panicked phone calls from the general public, the C.I.A. has published a new informational brochure entitled “How to Tell if You’re Involved in the Petraeus Scandal.” Continue reading.

Petraeus’s downfall is only as great as we choose to make it. He was an exceptional military officer, and he helped steer a turnaround in what had been a hopeless, bloody mess of a war in Iraq. But his lionization by admiring and opportunistic politicians and fawning journalists and biographers—such as Paula Broadwell, the woman he was involved with—has been craven and boundless: Petraeus as America’s Prometheus. This derived in part from our habit of turning flesh-and-blood men into Paul Bunyans, but it was also the product of a gigantic official spin campaign in which the Bush Administration sought, through Petraeus, to retell the U.S. war in Iraq as a success story…

Jon Lee Anderson on the rise and fall of the Petraeus Illusion.

Photograph by Luke Sharrett/The New York Times/Redux.