"Do you want some more yogurt?" Francine asks Jake, as she enters the living room in his parents' house, where she's been playing nurse as Jake recovers from his oral surgery.
Jake looks up from his recumbency on the couch, from where he watches an old wrestling match on the television, "No, thank you. No more JELL-O, no more ice cream, and, especially, no more yogurt, please."
"How's your mouth feel?" Francine says, motherhenning over him.
"Still sore," Jake says, watching Ed "The Bedwetter" Driphoski slam The Yankee Thumper's head into a turnbuckle and imagining that he feels just like The Thumper, "Thanks for taking care of me. I know you'd rather be staking out the Build-A-Bears right now."
"Bilderbergs," Francine corrects, "And, some people are more important to me than creepy rich people trying to run the world."
"What are they doing in Cleaveland anyway?"
"No one knows. Well, I mean, people know that it's for their annual conference, which meets every year about this time, but no one knows why it's here specifically. It was supposed to be in New York a couple weeks from now, but they faked everyone out and ended up here at The Globalist, the hotel connected to The Healthy Hospital. They usually pick somewhere more luxurious than the nation's poorest big city."
"Maybe someone's sick."
"There have been rumors that The Queen Of The Netherlands has been having some bad hemorrhoid problems from sitting on all her money, but I thought that was a joke. Maybe the Rockefellers have come to Cleaveland to celebrate the centennial of John D. buying the Earth or something. Then again, maybe they just heard that Cleaveland was a good place to hunt poor people and they're dressing a homeless person up like a fox right now or something."
"Maybe they're on a budget like the rest of the world now too and needed a cheap place for their conference."
"Ha! I doubt that! They'd just print up more money if they needed it. A lot of them run the central banks of various countries, and they're always pushing for a worldwide central bank. They want the world to be one system so it'll be easier for them to run it."
"That sounds kind of scary, but it's hard to imagine they'd be worse than Dick."
"Well, Dick's in league with them, though it appears there might be some friction between him and the rest at the moment. I suppose him being a vending machine and them still being human might do that."
"So, if they're right here in town, how come people here can't attend?"
"They're very secretive. You should see The Hospital area. It's like a military occupation over there with armed guards and everything."
"No thanks. I'm still mad at them for changing their name and taking 'Cleaveland' out of it."
"Oh, right, they said 'Cleaveland' had negative connotations and reflected badly on their image. So much for homegrown honor, eh?"
"Well, that's all right. I guess I don't care that much since I avoid hospitals like the plague anyway. In fact, hospitals are a good place to catch the plague, I bet, with all those sick people in them."
"Well, there are some more sick people around that hospital than usual, with The Bilderbergs at the hotel. I'd love to know what's going on there right now."
"Maybe you can join their organization and attend the next one."
"Ha! I should write to The American Friends Of Bilderberg for a membership application. I'm sure they'll get right back to me about that. They'll say, 'Do you have massive amounts of money?' I'll say, 'No.' 'Are you in a business or political position of great influence?' 'No.' 'Would you like to make the rich people today even richer at the expense of the poor?' 'No.' 'Do you enjoy lying to people and manipulating them with propaganda?' 'No.' 'Are you fond of monarchies and secret decision making or do you favor democracy and transparentness in government?' 'The latter.' 'I'm sorry, Ms. Apple, you're just not Bilderberger material.'"
"Don't make me laugh!" Jake says, as he puts his right hand on the right side of his mouth, "Ow! Time for another pain pill, I think."
"Want me to get it?" Francine asks.
"No, I probably need to stand up anyway. I'm tired of lying down, but I'm also too tired to do much else. Also, I can't wait until I can eat real food again."
"How about a Bilderburger?"
"Don't taunt me. All this politics stuff is confusing. That's why I like wrestling. The good guys and bad guys are easy to spot."
"Well, it's kind of like wrestling in that they're all working together, but pretend not to be in the show they put on for the masses. That's why they don't let media people into the conference unless they're lapdogs being given their marching orders."
"Hot dogs?"
"Lapdogs."
"I must be hungry. I'm going to eat some more yogurt."
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.
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