NationStates Jolt Archive


Death of a Salesman

Halibris
01-06-2004, 23:58
A great, dark rain cloud was slowly approaching Haliton, like a terrible omen.
"Wonderful weather for the first presidential inauguration, don't you think?" James Fern, gazing out the wall-length mirror, asked nobody.
"Weather doesn't mean anything, Mr. President." answered that quick, familiar voice from the door.
"Oh-Miss Kirk, I didn't know you came in. And please, don't call me that now, I'll be hearing it for the next five years."
"Well, Mister-"
"James."
"-Fern, they finally have the route the motorcade will be taking tomorrow. From the Civic Center, you will go east on 4th, north on Kessel, west on State, and finally, north on Capitol, where you will disembark on the Capitol steps. You will be traveling with Mr. Vice-President Elect Krane and Minister Roland. Any questions?"
Always business, and very ambitious, thought Fern. She'll go very far one day. I just hope she doesn't let her career interfere with a social life.
"No, Miss Fern, thank you."
"Well, I must talk to Miss Cooper now, if you need me, just call." And so Miss Kirk left, as efficently as she had entered.
Fern went back to his post at the window.
***
Halibris
03-06-2004, 02:49
"Is the equipment ready?"
"Yes, I'll be able to get some great shots of the motorcade." answered the cameraman to his superior over the phone.
"Okay, Jerry, good. Just-make sure no one take that spot. We'll talk tomorrow."
Jerry slowly put down the receiver and thought about the magnitude of his upcoming actions. All he knew was he would be unemployed tomorrow.
***
The Next Day
The weather showed no improvement from the previous day, but excited citizens still lined the streets and Capitol Plaza to witness the fist inauguration in Halibris in a long time. Banners and flags were draped down from windows. People were eager to see James Fern, the hugely popular Democrat and young man from the country who managed great reform in the ensuing disorder after the Revolutionary War.
"Look at all these people, standing in the rain, looking up to this administration." James turned from the sedan window to Stanley Krane, his running mate. "What if I do something wrong?"
"Jim, you think you're running this country by yourself? You got me, the cabinet, and about 200 people in Congress who will just love to examine your every move. Don't worry." Stanley smiled at him with his perfectly straight, white teeth. Krane's former profession as a salesman aided him immeasurably as a politician. I only hope, Fern thought, he's a bit more honest than my stereotype of the average salesman.
"Yeah, you're right. We going?"
***
"Oh, here comes the motorcade now-" As the line of cars turned onto State Boulevard, the people crowding the sidewalk erupted into cheers. Fern started to smile.
"This is going to be fine. People are ready to start anew, to make Halibris great again. Stan, I want this administration to be like these people."
"Mhm, mhm. That's pretty noble of you. Don't worry, you won't be like after a few months in this job."
"Jeez, Stan, I'm..."
***
John Lowell watched with a smile the motorcade ride down the street. As he turned to talk to his wife, he caught someone in the corner of his eye. A man, looking in his 20's, was atop a raised wooden platform in between two buildings. He was doing something with his hands in a large green box, and constantly looking down at the street. Lowell turned towards a cop standing next to him.
"Hey Officer, is he a reporter or som-" Before he finished his sentence, the man on the tower brought up a long green cylinder with a lighting quick motion. The officer went to his holster-the man took expert aim at the president-elect's car-the cop raised his gun-the man fired his own weapon, creating a loud boom, and a whining noise, something flying form the tube's end. It headed straight towards Fern's car-the officer shot the man in the chest-the car's front window shattered and the hood flew up in flames. The sedan stopped dead. In the ensuing chaos, people ran away from the car, towards it, a group of men went to to scale the platorm of the assailant, and others stood in their spots.
***