President Bosh

"I must leave you now," my drawf said, "I refuse to step into the castle so long as democracy still rules this country."

I raised my eyebrows. "Hey, whatever floats your boat," I said.

A drawf in black guided me to the the Cordate Office. When the door was opened, I had to fight giggles. 

The Cordate Office, as its name suggests, was heart-shaped. The decor was straight out of a Barbie catalogue. The place was awash in various shades of pink and purple, with fluffy carpets and Tinkerbell wallpaper. Little hearts were liberally sprinkled everywhere. And was that a Hannah Montana poster?

President Goerg W. Bosh was sitting behind a little plastic desk (complete with faux-fur sparkly princess phone), looking very out of place in his sombre black suit. Good lord, he even looks like George Bush.

"Good morning, Princess," He said in chilly tones.

"Good morning, uh, Mr. President," I said, trying not to burst out in hysterical laughter.

"I see that you find the decor amusing," he said coldly. "Which shows how much you really know of this place, you who claim its throne.'

"Well, I'm not exactly claiming--" I said. His cold mannerisms have sobered me; I no longer felt like laughing.

"A little girl's imaginings," he interrupted me, "is what you dismiss this place as. And it's true, only a little girl can stay in this place without going insane. Being constantly surrounded by unicorns and butterflies and--and Hannah Montana music! It's enough to drive anyone crazy. And that is the purpose of this place. Lalaland is, first and foremost, an asylum for the insane." He smiled unpleasantly. "That's right. Lunatics, the mentally unstable, nutters. You are not too far past girlhood, but stay here long enough and you'll be as insane as your would-be subjects. Now do you still want to govern this place?"

"All I know is, you're not fit to govern Lalaland either!" I shot back. "I've heard about what you've been doing here. Increased violence, crime rate up by three hundred percent, conscription..."

"Ah, violence," he said dismissively, with a wave of his hand. "That was only because I opened up trade with the United States, and there were some slasher flicks and violent video games. I also legalized weapons.  Do you know how much the economy went up by? Did they mention that? Lalaland is a rich, free-trading country, all thanks to me! And as to conscription, we are currently invading this gypsy-inhabited land, very oil-rich, and I've pinned the increased crime rate on the gypsies. Just a military strategy."

I was horrified. "You legalized weapons and introduced slasher flicks, in a country inhabited by lunatics? And why do you even need oil? I haven't seen a car, or even a paved road, since I got here!"

"The oil is to export to the States, obviously," he said as if I was an imbecile. "We will make an enormous profit. And you know what the best part is?" he said gleefully, "This is all done democratically. Everything I've done was passed by the House, which is elected by the people."

"Of course they would vote for war and violence!" I almost screamed. "They are lunatics! That's it," I said determinedly. I didn't want to involve myself in politics, but this guy has gotta go. "I'm reclaiming my throne."

"Go ahead, wage war on me," he said, unconcerned. "I love wars."

"We'll see," I said. Which is not the best comeback, but whatever. I spun on my heels and marched out of that ridiculous, heart-shaped office.

 

 

The End

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