First 4 Chapters of a novel

[chuckleslord]

This a Novel that I've had cooking in my head for sometime now, and I just recently had the time to sit down and do a rough first four chapters. (rough because it's just the skin and bones, very little in way of exciting detail)

for lack of a better method, I'll post them straight into the post. You can copy and paste it all into a word program from here.

Roman numerals denote chapters.

I

“It’s unprecedented-”

“Never before-”

“An entire upset-”

“An Outrage!-”

“The first in the history of-”

“Less than a percent of-”

“Popular opinion polls-”

“Congress calling for-”

“Need for Impeachment-”

“Death threats on Electorates-”

“46th President of the-”

“Abomination-”

“Public out cry-”

“The United States-”

“President Derrik Veola”

Derrik clicks the T.V. off with a flash of his finger. The remote clangs on the desk as he reaches for a cigar from his desk drawer. He shuts the drawer as he pulls out the brown cigar with a gold label, upon which is the US dollar sign. He flicks a match to life, and slowly, deliberately lights the end of the cigar. He takes a puff as he calmly lifts his feet onto his mahogany desk top. He leans farther back into his comfortable black leather desk chair and takes another puff. The silence of his office is only disturbed by the muffled protesting of commoners about 80 stories below him and the first ring of his telephone. He clicks the flashing button as another puff of smoke explodes from his mouth. “Mr. Veola, I have the 6 O’clock report.”

“Go Ahead,” Derrik’s grizzly yet youthful voice seems to explode in the silent room.

“Ok, first off, you have several messages,” Derrik imagined the blonde-haired secretary in the room, reading this off of her favorite notepad, which he got her for Christmas.

“Anything important?”

“Well, there were approximately 50 death threats,”

Derrik chuckles at the number, he expected it to be far greater.

“-14 calls from your mother, screaming about how she has a crazy devil child, that she curses your name and wishes she never had you.”

Another stifled laugh escapes Derrik’s lips as yet another puff of smoke comes out from his lips.

“-and finally you have a call from the White House staff, they wish to speak to you about the arrangements for your taking of the oath.”

At this last statement, a smile cut across Derrik’s pale face, making his definitive face seem to be too definite, almost too sharp to even be human. His crystal green eyes sparkle with the brightness of his smile, and his long blonde hair, tied back in a pony, is pushed back by the sheer force of joy, so that, a passerby might’ve thought he was bald. He laughs a gay laugh as he says, “Tell the Staff I’ll be there by tonight, so we can meet then. Get my limousine ready to take me out the back exit; we’ll leave in the hour. Also call my jet; they need to be ready for take-off the second that I arrive at the airspace.”

“Going on a trip, are we?” A small, defiant woman says from the open doorway. Her short, bobbed, black hair matches the jet black masculinity of her suit dress. Although she is extremely short in stature, compared to Mt. Derrik across the room, she has a presence that makes her seem larger than life.

Derrik practically leaps out of his seat when he sees her, covers the 10 or so feet between them, grabs her by the waist and hand, and dances her around the room. She is startled by the swiftness of his actions, but decides to play along. When he arrives in front of his desk, he spins her out in front of his guest chair and spins himself into his own chair. “Well, my Wife, how are you on this fine day?” he laughs gaily.

“Oh please Derrik, I don’t call you husband all the time, now do I?”

“What? I can’t act silly when this is the first time I’ve seen you in 4 weeks?”

She laughs, a hushed sort of giggle “Well, you can at least use a little dignity. I like it better when you call me Veronica, or even Vee, it’s more personal. So… I can see what was so direly important that you couldn’t even tell me” her head flicked at the now black TV screen. “Why did you decide on that route?”

“You of all people should know,” he grins, replacing the cigar he had thrown on the table. He takes another puff, “The only chance I had of changing this world for the better was bypassing the damn stuffy traditions and just taking it.”

“You do know that they’re talking about impeachment?”

“Yes, but what case do they have? I have broken no laws, I only steered around them and took them by surprise.” Another smoke ring exited his lips, “And besides, I have no need to fear 435 bumbling idiots, I can basically do whatever I wish.”

“So, I’m assuming we’re going to Washington then?”

“Yes and, just as when I ran for popular election, I would still like you to be my Vice… President, that is.” His grin exploded on his face yet again, as another cloud of sweet smoke escaped his lip.

“Naturally, someone needs to keep you in check,” A smile crossed her face as well, though not as severe as his, it acted more as a period as opposed to his exclamation point. “Have you thought of your cabinet members?”

“Naturally, but I do plan on removing most of the seats.” Another puff, “The problem will be, of course, getting them approved by the senate. I will have an entirely opposed Senate, so getting anything approved by them will be difficult.”

“How do you plan to get past that?”

“Well, I’ll tell you later, I’ve got to have some air of secrecy.” Another puff.

“Oh, Derrik I’m your wife, you’re supposed to tell me all your secrets.”

“Yeah, well…” He takes the last puff of his cigar and shoves the butt into the ashtray he pulled out of his drawer. “I like to feel mysterious.” His powerful smile burst on his face again.

“are you sure you don’t-” the phone rings and interrupts Veronica. Derrik taps the speaker button and yet again his receptionist peaks through the black box.

“Mr. Veola, your limo has arrived and your jet is ready for you. Would you like to leave now, or make them wait?” The voice yet again pierced the silent room.

Derrik leans on the talk button, “No, we’ll leave now. Call Jeremy and tell him to get a few changes of clothes ready and to get them to airport ASAP.”

“Yes Mr. Veola.”

The receiver clicks as Derrik stands up and walks towards the door. He opens it, turns to Veronica, “Ready to go, Vee?”

She stands from her seat and bows her head as she passes through the door, as a thank you. She waits as he locks the door and grabs his hand on their walk to the elevator. Her hand inside of his stands as a bold projection of the two’s possession of each other. The elevator door begins to close as Derrik begins to recall his life that had led up to this achievement, this simple moment of entering an elevator for the last time as Derrik Veola, CEO of Next Step Industries, and from now on as Derrik Veola, President of the United States.

II

On Aug 8th, 1985, Derrik Veola, 7 pounds 8 ounces, was born to Katherine and David Veola of 130th ST NW, Savage Minnesota. He had green eyes, blonde hair, and huge feet. By the time that Derrik reached the age of 18 months, he was already walking, playing piano, and had a small vocabulary of words ranging from “hi” to “tank you.” Everyone could tell, even though he was so young, that the boy had a bright young future, and the springboard to get there.

His mother and father made a middle range income and bought a home in the suburbs. Due to this, Derrik grew up in the most normal of environments, yet used his own abilities to take an ordinary life and make it extraordinary. When Derrik entered kindergarten at age 5, he already knew how to read, write, and do basic arithmetic. After the first week of class his teacher recommended him to transfer to a first grade class. The principal agreed and allowed Derrik to take a test to know, for sure, what grade to place him in. Another week of Kindergarten later, Derrik transferred to an honors level 3rd grade class. By the time he finished the 3rd grade, he was ready to move into a 5th grade class. This skipping pattern continued until Derrik grew tired of school, at the age of 16, and tested out of school by taking his GED.

As soon as he passed his GED, he began working at the local motor plant. He started out as a grunt, basically, picking up scrap nuts and bolts from the floor and cleaning up after everyone was gone. He took to his job with a greater enthusiasm than any of his far older co-workers. He put his great mind to the task of making his, and the work of the plant, faster and more efficient. He got his first promotion when he showed his manager a way to triple output without extending hours or hiring more employees. The plan was implemented, it seemed, as soon as it was mutter by the young Derrik. He was promoted to managerial assistant, basically a paper monkey. These small jobs and small salaries continued until his 18th birthday, where he became the assistant to the VP of Technology, John Weisman, for 21st Motor Company. It was his first job where he made over minimum wage and where he got to where a real suit instead of a cheesy coverall in tacky colors. He spent his entire first paycheck on a first-class suit and all of the bells and whistles, including a real briefcase.

Every night, Derrik would walk to his low-income housing on the outskirts of town, it was all he could afford at the time, and would eat a small dinner, comparable in size to that of a mouse’s. He would then proceed to iron his suit, hang it on the only hangar in his closet, and go to sleep on his borrowed mattress. His days were marked by hundreds of coffee runs, picking up dry-cleaning, and working on the newest designs for the companies new assembly lines. He would often run himself into the ground every single day, felt it every night, and proceeded to do the same level of work (often even more) the next day. He had no social life, he hadn’t the time, and he had no free time. The entirety of his life, from his 18th birthday to just after his 21st, was spent pleasing Mr. Weisman and doing as much work as possible.

The thought that kept him going for those 3 or so years was not the promise of more power or even of more money, but instead the promise that he could create more and do more for the company, and himself, the higher he got in rank. On September 16th, 2006, Mr. Weisman, VP of Technology for 21st Motor, retired from his position as VP at the age of 65. The Board of Directors then voted, 21 to 1, that Derrik Veola should take his place. The only vote opposed was the current President of Technology, Curdirae Smith; his reasoning was that he feared the Mr. Veola was after his job.

Derrik than splurged on himself, he bought four more suits and moved into his corner office, the couch by the window made an excellent bed, and ate out every night wherever he wished to go. Unlike Mr. Weisman, however, Derrik spent all of his time focused on how to make the company more formidable and only used his assistants to get him the occasional coffee (he, of course, fired most of them because they had no use to him) and not do any of the projects assigned to Derrik. While he had achieved a position of superiority, he still worked as much, if not more, as his inferiors in the sweatshop. The only difference was he did it with a smile on his face, a smile always too definite to be human, and the knowledge that he would soon get even more work to do, and found relief in that knowledge.

Two years later, around November of 2008, was when 21st motor began to hit a rough patch. A long drawn out recession had started to take its toll and several of the board members were beginning to fear bankruptcy. It was then that Mr. Veola decided to take over the company. He went to the final board meeting of the 21st Motor Company. He proposed a new direction for the company, with him as the CEO, in exchange he would keep the company out of bankruptcy and fulfill all of the retiree paychecks for Board Members he would let go. The motion passed, 21 to 1, the only opposed was yet again Mr. Smith, because he smelled something fishy and still didn’t trust Derrik. Derrik became the CEO, personally let go all of the Board members, paying their pensions as he promised, and renamed the company Next Step Motor Company.

And that's how Derrik Veola became the CEO of the Next Step Motor Company. He opens his eyes and the metal door of the elevator slides out of view, to reveal a lobby full of exasperated journalists. He grabs Vee by the arm and [proceeds to make his way through the crowd, a look of victory enhancing his face. The barage of questions, ranging anywhere from “What are you going to do now that you're President?” to “Is it it true that you're an alien invader sent to destroy mankind?”, fell on deaf ears. Derriks only goal was his rear garage and the safety provided by his security guard standing in front of it. The door and sound closed behind them as they entered the large, vacant parking lot. As soon as Derrik and Vee walk around the corner, Derrik still grasping his wife with a controlling but loving embrace, Derrik's private Cadillac limousine pulls into view. The driver, Fredrick, jumps out of the driver's seat and open the passenger door.

“Thank you, Fredrick,” Derrik helps his wife into the car.

“My pleasure sir,” Fredrick tips his cap, “and where are you all going this evening?”

“The Airport, if you please,” Derrik sits down in the Limo.

“Yes, Mr. Veola,” and with that Fredrick slams the door and jumps into the driver's seat once more.

The car starts to zoom off as Derrik turns to Vee and grabs her around her shoulders. She puts her feet up on the remaining seat and leaned into him. They sat back and sat in silence.

“Who’s going to run the company or these four years?” Vee broke the silence.

“I will, of course,” Derrik practically laughed his answer.

Vee shot him an evil look. “You are kidding, right?”

“What if I wasn’t?”

“Well, I would have to divorce you, Derrik. I can deal with your normal stress level, but this would be 100 times worse and I couldn’t sit by and watch you do this to yourself. You would age 50 years in the first 2 years and would die of stress before your term was up.”

“Understandable, I would probably do the same for you in the same situation. No, I’m actually setting up a Board of Directors to take my spot till I can return to work, whether that be at the end of my term or after an Impeachment. Either way will work for me.”

“You?! You’re going to set up a Board? Didn’t you eliminate the last board that worked at the company, why re you even considering setting up another one?”

“It’s simple, Vee, I chose to set up a board because they can do just about as much work as I can, plus it makes it harder for them to change the way the business is run. 5 heads are slower than one.”

“I think I get it, but who are you going to have on the Board?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it.” Derrik shrugged, rested his head on the window, and closed his eyes.

“Hmm,” Vee let out a chuckle, yet again as a period and leaned more into Derrik’s broad chest. The remainder of the trip lasted in this calm serene peace, much like that before a storm. Both of them were aware of the oncoming storm, but didn’t let it get to him.

Upon arriving on the tarmac, Derrik kissed his wife in a short but passionate kiss, threw the door open before Fredrick got even close, picked up Vee, and ran the 50 or so feet between them and the plane. He got on quickly and let Vee down back on the ground. He smiled his obnoxiously great smile, turned to the captain and announces that he would be flying to Washington. The captain smiles, nods, and tell hims that he would gladly be his co-captain. Within moments Derrik and Vee are on their way, to their new house for four years, possibly the most hectic 4 years of their life.

James Mahaney

Final Project #2

III

The crowd roars in thunderous disapproval. It is a bright and cold January day, and Derrik’s lungs are set a blaze with the first sharp breath of freezing air after stepping out the White House. His new backyard is filled with hundreds upon thousands of angry protestors, several angry Senators, a small orchestra, and one bright, smiling Chief Justice standing by the podium. His long hair freezes as he makes his approach towards the podium. The band is playing the Ode to Joy, a special request from Derrik, as the jeers grow ever louder. The band plays the final chord as Derrik steps up in front of the Chief Justice. They both stand at attention as Veronica walks down the same walkway. She stands perpendicular to the two giants, holding a rolled up and sealed copy of the Constitution of The United States. Derrik smiles his over-exaggerated explosion of facial lines and bright twinkling eyes as he sets his left-hand upon the rolled up scroll his wife was holding. He then raises his right hand.

“Now, take the oath Derrik,” The Chief smiles again. He found it ironic that the man who wasn't supposed to even be here today knew the oath by heart and requested to speak it alone.

“I, Derrik Veola, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.” His left hand grips tighter around the rolled up parchment under his fingers as he says the last few words. The final word rang through the courtyard and not a single voice dared to disturb it as it lingered in the air. Even those who had come to protest him felt nothing but awe at the powerful man who stood before them, his voice standing as a testament to such. The effect, however, did not last when the sound finally died. Once again the crowd bursts with noise, this time split in half between those who came only to protest and those who came to celebrate, who have found their voice at last. Around the podium, Derrik began to weep hot tears of joy as he clutches Veronica tightly.

He turns to the Chief Justice and shakes his hand firmly, tears still rolling freely down his cheeks. The chief, in turn, pulls Derrik in closer and says in his ear “Of all the Presidents I have sworn in in my 20 or so years, you are, by far, the one most deserving of this achievement, and don't let anyone else convince you otherwise.”

“Thank you, I will definitely take note of that.” Derrik's joy seems to flood the surrounding area, and even the grumpy Senators can't help but give applause to their new President. The applause, and sneers, dies down as Derrik wipes his tears and approaches the podium to give his first speech as President of the United States. The speaker booms with the power of Derrik's voice.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I would first like to thank you for coming out on this chilly January afternoon for my inauguration. You don't even begin to realize how much this event means to me and I am glad to be able to share it with you. Now, I've never been a man of many words so I'll keep this short and sweet. First off, some of you feel I have cheated my way here and don't deserve this title. I feel that, to you, I need to give an explanation for what you might think was an unfair course of action.” Several sounds of hushed approval roll out from the crowd. “For years, this country has been called the Nation divided in two. This makes sense, the Civil War, the Protests of the 60’s, even the ratification of the Constitution found this country divided in two. We have followed that tradition since this country was made, and we might as well not give it up now. Now, while I am a man of few words, those words I have to say are truly mine and never are falsely twisted to make myself look better for a political party or for a demographic group. It was for this reason that I did what I did. I've never thought to myself, 'what should I do to get the young mothers to vote for me?' or 'what about the young age group of web-surfers? How do we get them involved?' My only thoughts have been ‘what is the truth?' and 'what do I know to be good and right.' Therefore, the two-party system that some of you cling to so desperately, wasn't for me. I took the path less taken. The road taken by our forefathers, the road of the Electoral College. I bypassed the system of prejudice that our two-party system has become, a system where Democrats are one-way, Republicans another, and nobody should waste their votes on the independents, who’re all loons anyways. I went straight for the head of the metaphorical beast, the core of the election process, our Electoral College.

“Now, what would motivate me to take this seat, this office, in the first place? My undying love for this country, for one, and the ideals and principals that have made it so successful. The knowledge that I was one of the few remaining men in the political world to have the dignity to stand up for what he believes in, without swaying because of 'Popular Opinion Polls' and the like. And, finally, the courage I have to set this country back on the road it was intended for.” Isolated bursts of applause broke out from the crowd.

“What was that road, you ask? The founding fathers made it easy to decipher the road they wanted for this country. They said it plainly in the Declaration of Independence, the first of many great documents for this country, that each and every man is endowed by his Creator with certain unalienable rights. That among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. Now, the founding fathers were smart guys, they knew how to choose their words wisely. They did, however, make one fatal mistake that accidentally created what some perceived as a second road. A seemingly hydrogenous state 'endowed by his Creator' was taken to mean the God of the Christian faiths. This has lead our country, with separation of church and state, to blur that line of separation to the point where God and the bible are now in our courts, where you take oaths on the bible, in our legislation, where senators are men of God and nothing else.

“I say enough is enough. Stop focusing on the small, inadequate 'Creator' line. Am I saying that we should end religion? No, I'm not. I'm simply stating that everything has a time and a place, and Religion's place is not in our Government. Instead, I call for us to focus on the end of that quote. Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. But what do those mean? Life means that every man can live his life without the fear of persecution, either by the government or by his fellow man, and that he may not take the life of another man or threaten to do so. Liberty, the freedom to choose what you wish to be, do what you want to do, so long as that freedom does not disturb the freedoms of others.

And finally the Pursuit of Happiness. This one is my favorite, and for good reason. It doesn't promise happiness, but promises, instead, the ability to pursuit it. In our country you take whatever path you want in life. You get to choose many things; you even get to choose whether or not you want to be happy. Yes, you can choose to be a grouch all your life, if you wish. The forefathers were smart guys; they purposefully made sure they didn't guarantee happiness.

Even in the pursuit of happiness, we are going to find sadness, heartache, and depression along the way. You're going to get kicked around, chewed up, spit on, and knocked down from time to time. You constantly can choose to pursue happiness or not. Sometimes people get kicked down and decide not to get back up again, but they are not the majority. This country was built by a bunch of stubborn ol' mules who never gave up what they wanted for the world, even if it meant facing their own death. This spirit lives on today in all of us. This noble pursuit for happiness, even while knowing that we might fail while trying.

“These three unalienable rights have been forgotten recently, thrown by the wayside, and left to rot. Life, the first and most basic of the three, is constantly threatened by our government to be taken away. Even laws that are unfair and unjust can be considered persecutions on one's life. While a person in prison might still be alive, they are not fully living. Liberty, a seemingly looser right in recent times, is constantly under attack by a government who wants to bleed you out as dry as they can before you are laid on your death bed. Finally, the Pursuit of Happiness. This one has been twisted most of all. Nowadays, some people see this as a guarantee to Happiness, not a Pursuit of it, and many politicians have treated it as such. The 'Economic Safety Net' has destroyed this right by guaranteeing happiness for the poorest of the poor by taking from those who chose not to give up the pursuit. Therefore, to set these three straight once more, I call for, not an end, but a new direction to the supposed 'War on Poverty'. Poverty is like a bar of soap, and welfare is like the water. The more water you put on soap, the harder is to grab it. The only logical solution is to turn the water off and grab the dry bar of soap.

“So that takes care of the Pursuit, but what of the other two? It's simple. From this day forward, I declare an end to the income tax. The IRS will be forced to return all current tax holdings for this fiscal year and are not to collect any income taxes this year, under persecution of the United States National Guard and other Military branches.” The crowd gasps, the Senators are all turning purple, and the crowds gasps start to turn into brilliant cheers, spreading from person to person like a wildfire. “Secondly, I also shall end the Electoral College and set this country on course for an entirely popular vote system, so that none shall ever use the loop-hole I exposed again. Thirdly, and finally, I shall reduce the President's annual salary to just under $100,000 a year and shall begin to reduce the powers of the President, which have grown to a raging torrent since the office was created.” Derrik could hardly be heard under the enormous volume of the crowd. Even when entirely silent, the pressure of their combined, newly sparked, love for their new President seemed to make the very ground shake. As Derrik turned away from the podium, the floodgates ripped open and the crowd roared with applause, the sheer mass of their presence made the marble walls of the White House vibrate with their excitement.

Derrik looked on the faces of the people in the VIP section as he went to sit down. His wife was clutching the Constitution with her left hand and she held her right above her mouth, to cover her enormous gasp, which had not left her face for the past 2 or so minutes. He looked over the faces of several Supreme Court Justices, who were laughing as if they were the gayest men on the earth. Then he looked over at the Senators, who varied in color from red to a deep magenta. Then his eyes rested on the last person he had wanted to see that day. John Gunter, the man from whom he stole the Presidency.

IV

John Gunter was Derrik Veola's best friend in the little time that the two had spent in High School together. Both had dreams of big futures, both hated conventionalities, and both wanted to make the world a better place. Derrik had always known that he wanted to join a Motor Company, cars and business were his passions. John had known he would get into politics. He saw it as the only noble pursuit of power, to change the world for the betterment of the world, not for ones self. While the two butted heads on several topics, their strong passion for greatness kept bringing them back together.

After Derrik left High School in early sophomore year, John stayed behind and finished High School (it looked good when a politician finished his schooling). After his graduating with honors and as Valedictorian, he moved on to Harvard law for his BA in law. It was around the age of 18, due to major stress from parents and from Harvard, that John began to chain smoke cigarettes to cope. He stayed at Harvard until he earned his Master's at age 24. He then returned to Minnesota and worked for the Hennepin County Attorney's Office for 12 years. By the time he left he was the District Attorney and had the highest count of convictions in the history of the office. Most people said it was due to his smooth tongue and even smoother looks.

At the age of 36, John ran for Governor of Minnesota. He was elected in a landslide victory. He had to give up smoking in the public eye, but still used it to cope with major stresses, in the privacy of his own home of course. He would serve his four year term, during which he began quite interested in the Presidential Election and Democratic Primaries fast approaching. Out of a general curiosity he put together a preliminary team to find out his chances of winning the primaries were. After a very a few very positive opinion polls, John decided to make his candidacy official. The wait between the time of his official announcement and the beginning of the Primary Process were the most agonizing 2 years of his life, the anticipation to get started nearly killing him.

Although he was, by far, the youngest and greenest candidate in the Primary, he sent a positive vibe to his future voters that caused him to sweep the primaries, an entirely unprecedented occurrence. Most people said it was his smooth tongue again, and his still smooth looks. He even became People's sexiest man of the year. It was around this time that Derrik and John began to hang out again.

There first meeting since High School came in the Governor's Ball. It was a celebration of the Governor's victory in the primaries. All of the higher ups of major local companies and best stiffs in the political world were invited. Derrik, of course, showed up on the list.

Derrik wouldn't have come except for his old friend was listed as the guest of honor. Derrik had kept to date on John's life ever since he left High School, following him through newspaper clippings and the occasional phone calls to parents. He had always wanted to see John succeed at his dream. And now, at the epitome of that dream, the last great step, Derrik wanted to be there to share it with John.

John was surprised at Derrik's presence at the party, he had entirely forgotten about him after he skipped out of High School. They got to talking and decided to meet up in a couple days at a local bar to catch up. While it wasn't Derrik's normal thing, he had no problem with meeting up with his old friend to catch up on their progress towards their dreams.

On the day they were to meet, Derrik arrived a few minutes earlier than the two had decided upon; he wasn't very good with social interactions, so took any action against accidentally offending John. 45 minutes after their decided time, John wobbles in, drunker than a skunk. He plopped into the booth opposite Derrik and the smell of hard liquor came with him.

“Tanks for waiting Der. I got a little lost a couple blocks down da road.”

“John, you are very drunk. Are you sure you don't want to catch up some later time?”

A sudden breath of sobriety passes into John “no, no, please. I want to do this now.”

“Alright then, you go first.”

“Well, I know you've been watching my life like a hawk, so there's very little point in going over what you already know, so I'll start with some current news. Today, an opinion poll came out. I have over 80% of the vote from the people, and this was a huge survey, said to predict the outcome of the election.”

“That's great news, John.”

“Is it? It doesn't really feel like good news. It felt like bad news to me, that why I hit the liquor so hard. I don't know why, but it doesn't feel like a victory, but almost like a loss.”

“And why is that, John?”

“I don't know.” he pauses to light a cigarette from his pocket. He takes a long drag off it, “I guess I just feel like this isn't what I wanted.”

“And what did you want?”

“I wanted to change something; I wanted to make the world different. But if I've learned something about history, it's this... change isn't popular.”

“So, you're thinking that this poll is proof that you no longer stand for change?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He takes another long drag as the embers from the cigarette glow bright orange. “I guess it's the nail in the coffin, so to speak.”

“How so?”

“Oh, you know when you fight hard for the thrill of the challenge, selling everything, even your soul, just to have one more vote than the other guy. But the second you win for sure, you remember you didn't want the responsibility in the first place.”

“I... I don't understand that.”

“Makes sense, you're so naïve sometimes, you just don't understand what most adults do. Kind of like you’re frozen at age 16.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Yeah,” He takes another drag off of his cig. “Do you think you could smoke too, makes me feel less conscientious of myself?”

“I don't smoke.”

“Oh, don't bullshit me, I've seen you with your hoity toity cigars.”

“Yes, but that's only for special occasions.”

“What’s more special than old friends getting together, eh?”

“I just don't feel like doing it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” He takes a long drag, finishing off the remaining half of the cigarette. He pulls out another one and lights it. “You act like a damn child, ya know that... Ya know, maybe that's what I lost.”

“What’s that?”

“The youthfulness that I used to have, the one you still have. Maybe that's the reason why this feels like less than a victory...” another drag, “yeah, if you were me, you'd be revealing in this moment, probably smoking on of your damn cigars, not hiding in booze and cigs.”

“Probably, but I've no interest in politics”

John starts crying, tears rolling down his face. The sobs are so violent they are shaking his whole body. Derrik reaches out to touch John's shoulder when John looks up at him, “Do it Derrik, And DO IT NOW!”

“Do what?! What do you want me to do?”

“Take this damn office away from me, fix this country the way I wanted to... once. And the way I know you still want to. You can fix this mess that I made. Even if I never speak to again, take this from me and do it right.”

“Alright John, I will, but not for you that is now, but for the you that once was. For the spirit that you're desperately trying to grasp now, but will more than likely forget yet again on the road you’re taking.”

“Thank you,” the last of his tears are rolling down his face. He jams the last half of his Cigarette into the ashtray and stands up weakly. “Could you take me back to your place Derrik? I can't show up at home this drunk, I'd be murdered.”

“I will, don't worry.” Derrik rose as well, and stood facing his short friend. The differences between them became even more glaringly apparent was standing side by side as Derrik helps John out the door. John's loose, wobbly small frame, leaning against Derrik's massive, sturdy frame makes them seem like an odd pair of friends. The moment they were out the bar, Derrik picked up John and carried him the 18 blocks to his corner apartment in uptown.

The next morning, Derrik woke up John as Veronica was cooking pancakes in the kitchen. John's immediate reaction was to cling to sleep tighter, clinging towards his pillow. In turn, Derrik lifts john well above his head in a single clean movement. John is startled awake and screams “OK, PUT ME DOWN!”

“You awake now, sleepyhead?”

“Yes, yes, a hundred times yes. Please put me down.”

Derrik calmly set John down in the reverse of the same movement he performed just moments prior.

“What happened last night?”

“You don't remember?”

“Nope, nothing. I can't remember a damn thing. Must've celebrated a bit too hard last night. Did I tell you? A new poll came in, and they bet that I'm a shoe-in to win the Presidency.”

Derrik just stared at John with a look of utter bewilderment. How could he bold-faced lie to me right now? Derrik was going to say something when Veronica called that breakfast was done. They ate breakfast together and Derrik never mentioned what John had told him the previous night

That was the day that Derrik Veola decided to run for the Presidency of the United States.

That's what I have so far, thoughts?

[Peripeteia]

I think it's interesting. You've put a lot of effort into it.

I'm writing a book myself involving the Presidency.

From your imagery, in my mind, Derrik Veola looks like Lucius Malfoy with Harry's green eyes. Is this similar to how you imagine him?

I have one critsism - you keep switching between past and present tense. Stick to one.

I have one suggestion, and it is completely up to you to take it or ignore it. Perhaps you could feature the 45th President (I hope it's not Palin) in a "passing the torch" kind of scene, and elaborate on the election.

Will the loophole be shown later on?

Keep up the good work! I hope it turns out well!

Edited June 20, 2009 by Peripeteia

[chuckleslord]

Yes, very close to how I imagined him.

I know I have a problem with tense switching, it's my Achilles heel.

yes the loop hole will be shown. (err, I thought I had explained it, but i'll put it more bluntly)

Edited July 16, 2009 by chuckleslord