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RUB52-10
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1995-12-28
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48 lines
Copyright (c) 1995
PAT PAULSEN DIDN'T PAN OUT
"Sweet William's dead meat, Mikie," said my least favorite
virtual apparition, planting her piranha-heeled shoes on the edge
of my desk. "Ah think we oughta take his place, ya know."
I sighed, lifted a hand from my keyboard longer enough to run
it through my rapidly-thinning hair. "Ruby, I don't want to be
Vice-President."
"Geez, bub, ah know that. You an' vice jus' don't get along
a'tall. Ah figure ah can be the President of Vice, an' you can be
the President of the Yoo-nited States." She beamed.
I hate it when she beams. It usually means I'll be paying for
something expensive, or cleaning something nasty out of the carpet.
"Why me, Ruby? I have no particular qualifications for the job.
I'm a consultant in an obscure field; I've never run for
dog-catcher, much less the Presidency."
"On the head, bub. Ya ain't got qualification one, that's for
sure. Ya never diddled your secretary, spent time in a rubber
room, or traded commodities under the table. That's the beauty of
it." She paused for effect. I hate it when she pauses for effect.
It usually signals a quick trip down the rabbit hole. "See, Mikie,
ya got no skeletons! No dirt to dig up, no illeger...uh,
illegast...uh, bast..., er, you know. Anyway, you'll be the only
candidate in the field the press can't mess up. The Republicrats
can't say bad things about your finances and the Demicans can't
bad-mouth your morals. Ya got no record to dredge up like last
year's fruitcake, either. It's perfect."
"It's ludicrous. I'm about as apolitical as a person can get
and still be breathing. I speak my mind, for one thing, which is
hardly something to endear me to the Washington crowd." I stopped,
thought for a second. "You're not asking me, are you? You're
telling me. What have you done?"
"Jus' some campaign posters and TV time. Geez, why're ya
turning that funny color? Don't sweat it--I charged it all to the
Freemans."
* * *
So, folks, if you happen to vacation in Washington this year,
or channel-surf on late-night TV, please ignore the parti-colored
creature in silver-leather and sequins hawking her candidate. I'm
not running for President, really.
And if elected, I will not serve.
-end-