Friday, April 29, 2016

#chapter1.07 - a new coke (part ii)

the mCsituation - a new coke (part ii)

Video monitors everywhere showed the same thing: Eveelaree basking in the worship of her disciples.

"Hail The New Coke! Hail The New Coke!"

"Yes!", she shouted, "yes! Me me meeeeeee!"

The devotees shouted in response: The New Coke!"

"I'm going to fight for everyone!

"Welcome to Eveellaree's America, we are all equal!"


"I'm going to fight for every American!"


"Mysanta Corp! Generalz Electrons! Patent Protectorate LLC! Fapple Incorporated! Alllll the Americans!


The list went on. "The Oily & Gassy Conglomerate! Unnatural Fumes Inc.!"


"And my favorite person in the world--what the hell?"

She was interrupted by a loud whistle which was increasing in pitch rapidly. Then there was the sound of a rather quiet explosion. Eveellaree pointed upwards and shouted: "The Sandman! Destroy him!"

The camera pulled back to reveal an elderly, balding man wearing spectacles and a jet pack, circling overhead. The hooded figures reached up futilely to stop him to no effect; apparently their sycophantic ways had given them no experience in brining fl ying old people out of the sky. Otherwise, they might have realized that their arms were too short to grab anything that rose higher than the height of their extended arms. "There are things higher than I can reach, who knew?"Eveellaree was apparently not one to tolerate whining as she instantly blasted the whiner with red laser beams shooting out of her eyesockets.

"Suck on my truth bombs, toots!", shouted The Sandman. Lie-seeking missles were fired out of the jet pack, landing with ear- splitting pew-pews!

Eveellaree raised both arms and cried, "Media of Mainstream, protect me!" Instantly a wall surrounded her: A wall of tweets , twitters, twatters, posts, soundbites, and condescenion arose to shield her. A truth bomb of "inequality" exploded against a tweet of "It was like that when she got there", and exploded harmlessly. Then another and another rose, rendering the entire barrage harmless.

Within seconds it was over. Eveellary stood, smiling and unscathed. "Ha! Take that, Sandman!"

"Truth will out and I shall return, or something," retorted The Sandman. He jetted up and out through a skylight, which did shower everyone below with broken safety glass.

Back on the lounge of Air Force Two, Miranda raised her eyebrows at the sight. 'So that's why they're so loyal. By John Daltrey's haircut I'm beginning to like this woman. A lot. Now if I can just shoot lasers out of my eyes, I'll be the queen.' Glancing about the lounge's survivors, she then thought, 'Of what exactly, I'm not sure. Probably not worth the bother. Meh. Some day I'll find a mob worth eliminating with my laser-beam powers of destruction. Just as soon as I aquire them. Soon, yes, soon, heh heh.....

Friday, April 22, 2016

#chapter1.06 - a new coke

the mcSituation - a new coke

On the lounge's monitor, George 'Shrubya' Shrub cleared his throat loudly: "Okey-dokey now. My first order as new president will be--"

In the lounge of the aircraft, the screen went blank. The survivors, crammed together in their small refuge, looked on at the television spectacle before them in disbelief. "So who's the president now?", asked one. "We're on Air Force Two? How exciting!" cried another.

"Not. So. Fast." A woman's voice, hoarse from age but still loud, interrupted the newly self-declared president. Another frame inserted itself with a woman. Standing on a stone pedestal, she was surrounded by hooded figures in black robes in a scene lit by torches.

"Well well well, Evellaree Binton--you have a nasty habit of surviving," said Obtuso.

"Your drone t'was not quite so strikie as you thought, Mr. President. Or should I say, Mr. Soon To Not Be So Presidential."

"And your keen sense of wit remains intact."

"I, um, it, er, has, or has not, depending on the context. Wait, are you being sarcastic? Never mind, I don't care. Point is: I did not die. Indeed, My powers have miraculously increased! Vote for me, Amer I'm the new president!" she cried. As if to prove her point, her frame expanded to cover 3/4 of the screen. The others diminished to small squares.

"And why in the Charles Dickens would they vote for ya?", shouted Shrub. "My dad day was the president. Yer daddy sold life insurance!"

"Because! Only I can do things. I do things. Then--and this is a critical point so please remember this--I then make those things done."

George scratched his head. "Eh?"

"For it is in the doing of things that things are done. Monumental accomplishments of having-gotten-done-ness."

Obtuso interrupted. "Well, we're just sort of wondering, um, what have you ever really, you know, done? Because my mind is a blank."

"What have I done? What have I done? I've put more people in prison than any other American politician in history! I've cut off more benefits to the undeserving moochers than Saint Reagan. And I've helped kill way more people than that dickless old pee-pants ever did."

Her disciples chanted as one: "All praise Old Pee-Pants!"

"--and I've helped start three disastrous wars! I've helped create the greatest refugee crisis in recent times!"

Obtuso replied. "Okay, I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that those are not really positive accomplishments which have made the world a better place," said Obtuso. (Which he stated in his reasonable-let's-all-compromise-on-something-we-can-agree-on voice."

George cut him off. "Wait a second, I'm starting to like this woman. She's like me, except she's a Donninator. Not as good as 'Deciderino' but it's still pretty good." said Shrub.

"You've known me for 20 years!"

"Oh, right, now I remember. You helped me become a war-time president-y!"

"Damn right. It was a good war," she said.

"Damn good war," replied George emphatically. "And some damn good bombs."

"The best." They both sniffed, perhaps feeling a bit sentimental at the thought of together, how many people had been exploded. Or about how many had not. <i>So many bombs but so little time,</i> thought George.

Shrub nodded in approval. "Damn good. But yer daddy wasn't the president so fuck you."

"Goddammit, I've outlasted New Coke, I'll outlast Old Coke, and I'll outlast both of you. All of you. I am <i><b>Brand Binton</b></i>"

"All hail me, Brand Hillary!"
The hooded disciples began genuflecting towards their leader. "Brand Binton is our new soda! Old Coke is dead! All praise The New Coke!"

In the still-cramped space of the aircraft's lounge, the crowed began shouting: Hail the New Coke! Hail the New Coke! he new soda!
Why is she wearing a yellow raincoat indoors?, asked Mr. Schlock.

Miranda shrugged. "Easier than a liposuction," she suggested.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

chapter 1.05 - #thanksobtuso

the mCsituation 1.05

A voice crackled the audio system of the pressroom. "Hello, this is George from Dallas. Long time listener, first time caller. I have a question and a comment."
"Hey George, how's the weather in Dallas today?" asked the president.
"Actually I'm trapped in a plane over the Atlantic Ocean right now," replied George.
"Ah, I see. Well I look forward to visiting Dallas soon," said President Obtuso. He quickly added, "After my term is up. Not when I'm president, oh hell no."
"No, we don't much care for presidents who are still alive, heh heh." There was a long pause. "Heh."

"Seems to be the case there in Dallas. Alrighty, go ahead with your question or comment George."

"First of all, my comment: Guess who's baaaaaaack? It's me, George! Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh "

"Are you one of the ghosts living in the television static?", asked the president. Because I gave that TV to the Salvation Army."

The caller did not respond but merely kept on chuckling. "...heh heh heh heh heh heh heh..."

"Did you have a question, George in the plane from Dallas?"

"...heh heh heh heh heh heh heh..."

"Alrighty then, thank you for the call George but we have to move on."

Another voice, one of an old and man, interrupted. "Shut up and get on with it George! "

Obtuso's tone became incredulous. "Hold on! Is that--Dick Vice? I mean Vice Dick?"

""That's correct, the Trickster Dickster is back. Now you listen up here, Obi-wan Keyan."

"I'm from Illinois, dickweed!"

"Nairobi, Chicago, same-same. George is back. Or I'm back. At least one of those two. The nation needs my vast experience in making decisions terrible decisions in a crisis. I mean George's decisions. He makes all of the decisions. Right George."

George piped up. "That's right! Mah country needs me. And you're going to be calling *me* El Presidental El Presentiment. Presimentos. Whatever. Dig? Now get outta' mah crib.
Obtuso became furious. "Not a chance. You are both wanted criminals and must turn yourself over to federal marshals immediately. The people decide who leads this nation."

ViceDick spoke again. "You mean the sheep believe what they're told to believe for they're own good. Mostly for mine but also their's. How do you think George became president twice?"

"That's right, I'm the Decidonator. Now. I mean, again. Again and now. Or whatever. Air Force TWO out. Oh, and my first order is to the Air Force: Shoot down Air Force Uno. Unless I'm on it. I'm not on Air Force Uno, am I, Dick? "

"Goddamit George just hang up."

"Yes sir."Connection terminated", came an automated voice over the loudspeaker system.

"Phone, dial star-6-9," ordered President Obtuso.

"Sorry," replied the automated voice. "That service will not work for calls made from the stratosphere."

"Very well, then, who's our next caller?"

"Hi, this is Jedediah somewhere in the Sovereign State of Appalchia and I am thrilled that you have been fired.
Go freedom!"

"Next caller."

The voice of a man sobbing into the phone filled the auditorium. "This is Jeb Shrub from Florida and I was supposed to be El Presimentos! Dang it all bro!"

"Oh, sorry to hear that Jeb," said Obtuso.

"Really, you are?"

"No." The president hung up.

The monitors to the sides of the pressroom were suddenly filled with an image of George Shrub.

At that moment, there was a static noise from a monitor, and then a face appeared on the one of the giant monitors.

"Hello my fellow Americans. Say hello to you old boss who is now your old boss again. Wait,let me start over...Greetings fellow americans, say hello to the bossa nova, same as the old bossa nova. Is that right? No? Well screw you. I'm the president. Again."