by Terence A. Anthony
“Don’t these people get it? I’m
the fucking President” barked the Commander in Chief to his aide. The
oval office stopped embracing natural lighting ever since President Grump was
tired of looking at the protesters outside his window.
In his logic, for as long as he
can block his enemies, he’ll be fine. But judging from all his social media
accounts, they are still working into his head.
An aide took a deep breathe
before he continued. He stared at his phone’s screen one more time before
delivering the damning info. “President Grump, this is it. That was the last
base we have in Estonia. The Russians have taken control of the country.”
“What the fuck happened to the
NATO back up in the surrounding bases--”
“Sir, we wanted to brief you
yesterday about the situation but you didn’t want to--”
“Are you blaming me for my
fucking problems? Who the hell are you?”
President Grump was fuming from
the sudden burst of information. Just to make sure everyone got the message, he
took the television remote on his desk and turned off the giant television
screen recently mounted by his administration, then slammed it on his table.
The screen has been on 24/7 ever since he got the secret service to install it
just so he can hear his favourite pundits like Jill O’Reilly and John Hannity
spout out praises for him. But events of the past few weeks have turned the
tides against him.
Even news channels that used to
adore him had to cover the biggest anti-war protest ever since the Vietnam War.
“That’s it! I’m tired of these
Ruskies and Chinese poking their noses everywhere. Give me the briefcase!” That
was the moment every one dreaded. Despite the threat of nuclear annihilation,
the white house staffs were still afraid of Grump’s wrath. If it wasn’t Grump
and the launch codes, it will be the Russians and Chinese bombing the United
States before the American military recklessly tears the world.
He laid his finger on his button
while everyone sweated profusely.
Boom! Confetti fell all over the
room and the oval office opened up to an audience. A perplexed Grump looked
around him, watching over his staff leaving the stage.
Movie star turned gameshow host
Arnold Swashbuckler walked to Grump and shook hands with the now confused
television star.
“Congratulations for making it
this far! The audience loved you, but unfortunately this is your last week at
Celebrity President! Thank you so much for playing with us.”
Flash Fiction February is a daily short story challenge (within the 150-200 word range) for the month of February.
No comments:
Post a Comment