Blog Love Omega Glee: The Ghost In The Vending Machine (2 May 2012)

In the Oval Office, the air smells slightly like rotting meat. To counteract this, anyone who works there piles on the perfume, the cologne, the garlic on their breakfast, whatever it takes to crowd out the smell with another smell at least slightly less repulsive. As Louis Carson Fir limps into the office, Dick swivels around and sniffs the air, "What the hell are you wearing, Fir?"

"It's a new cologne that mixes pheromones with ground-up deer penis. It drives the ladies wild."

"It smells more like it drives the ladies away, but I'll take your word for it," Dick says, wheeling around to move his large soft drink vending machine body, painted so as to resemble the traditional presidential suit and tie outfit, from behind the desk, "So, I hear all went well on your trip to the Buckeye state?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want a Poke?"

"Sure, sir."

Dick uses one of his noodly vacuum cleaner arm appendages and presses on the painted American flag pin on the top left of his, um, chest. A series of clunks are heard from inside Dick, and the appendage reaches under his um, tie about where his , um, fly would be and pulls out an ice cold can of Poca-Cola. The appendage hands, um, gives it to Fir, who takes it and opens it up, "Ahhhhhhh! Thanks, sir."

"You're welcome. I still have one occasionally myself. The sugar water tastes great, but of course just pours out into a drain beneath my head," Dick sighs, "Some days I miss the rest of my body. At least I still have my head. That's the problem though. It's just meat. The doctors don't know how much longer they really can keep it from rotting away entirely. And, with summer here, it's only going to get worse, particularly at those outside campaign events. That's why the White House smells like a whorehouse with all the perfume lately. Ha! You'd think Clinton was still working here--don't tell the vice-president I said that; she's still thinks I'm the reason Polipo beat her so easily in the Democratic primaries. Anyway, the doctors say my new body will be ready soon, but it won't have any meat at all, if it even works, and I don't think the public is going to respond well to the first posthuman president. That's the future though. We're all going to have to be transhuman to survive. This planet's ruined. The only hope of survival is to just pick the worthy--and the worthy will be whomever gives me enough money--and give them artificial bodies so we can live forever in space. 'Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.' I'll make Jefferson proud. The final frontier is death, and we're going to beat it now too. Well, those of us who deserve it, and have the money. The rest of this ungrateful populace can fuck off and die. There's only two principles in politics I believe in, and they're the bedrock of our Republican party: 1) Rich people do enough for society as it is so they shouldn't have to pay any taxes, and 2) When they need to, the rich should be allowed to loot the public treasury. I don't know why the rest of society can't agree with this, but they don't, which is why we have to make up such ridiculous arguments and falsehoods to cover and disguise these principles at work. So I need to win this election to make things come together."

"Well, sir, I think I have a partial solution to that problem at least. Poorpeople's agreed to your proposal of putting both of you on the presidential ticket. There's just one problem. He wants you to be the V.P."

"Even after that Pennsylvania debacle, and the primaries yesterday where I beat him? That little senator from Ohio's got some big balls," Dick pauses and sighs, "I do miss my balls."

"Ahem, well, the Pennsylvania situation did freak him out a bit sir. Especially when he kept hearing your voice in his head telling him to 'Stick with Dick.' He said it was worse than any song lyric and melody that ever got stuck in his head and just kept repeating and repeating."

"Heh, heh, heh, that worked pretty well, didn't it? I don't think we can do it again though, after all those people killed themselves just to get the voices out of their heads. The press has been hounding me enough about it as is. They ought to thank me. I'd like to take credit for it. Those people were weak, and we Americans need to be strong because what's coming is brutal. You don't want some weak link in a chain falling apart at a crucial moment. At least Poorpeople didn't kill himself. I hate to admit it, but we need him now. Polipo's got quite a lead built up already in the general election, and we can't let him build up any more momentum, while I'm still grinding it out with Poorpeople for the nomination. If only I could convince Polipo to throw the election, but my people working on that say he's drunk on his own ego, and we can't dig up any good dirt on him that would convince him to sober up. So we need Poorpeople on board. Otherwise, I don't think there's any way to squeeze out a victory. The public's already too paranoid about stolen elections so our options there are more limited this time, and I can't cancel the election again. My advisors say the riots would be too disruptive to business. And business is what I'm all about. I am a vending machine. I am literally capitalism. By the way, you owe me a dollar for that Poke, Fir."

Fir coughs, then digs in his pocket and pulls out a bill, "Where do I put it, sir?"

"There's a slot underneath the left pocket."

Fir slides the bill there. A whir is heard but the bill gets spit back out. Fir tries again. More whir. The bill goes in and out. "Damn it, Fir, quit messing about! We have business to take care of!"

Dick's left appendage shoots out and vacuums up the bill out of Fir's hand, "There! That's good enough! Now let's figure out what to do about Poorpeople!"

Blog Love Omega Glee is a novel by Wred Fright about two bloggers who fall in love while the world falls apart, which is being serialized on his blog. To start reading from the beginning or read another installment, please visit Blog Love Omega Glee Central on WredFright.Com. If you like what you've read, or you've read all of Blog Love Omega Glee and want more Fright, then please read his first novel, which is available in print and as an ebook.