It Screams Press Me

It knows that with great power comes great responsibility, and the potential for its misuse is relatively high, but it doesn't care about petty morals like that; it was made for one thing, and it wanted to fulfil its purpose. Its smooth red surface, a round half sphere, is hidden beneath a false panel in a powerful politician's desk. This politician battled another politician with words and won the right to sit at this desk with this powerful red button with wires running to a radio ready to send its waves across the ether to trigger a cataclysm. It taunts the President with its possibilities any time there is a large-scale conflict, but he always, sighing,  shuts the false panel the pours himself a brandy. Discouraged, but always hopeful, the little red button waits, yearning for the entropy of human affairs.

The End

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