"I am definitely voting for O'Couscous. If I have to look at the stupid president for the next four years on the news, it can at least be someone hot for once," Manuel says, while frying up some donuts sprinkled with rosemary in the kitchen of Yaws.
Turning from chopping up a Polish boy--the sandwich not an Eastern European child--and wrapping it in arugula, Ritchie says, "No way, dude! Just because a chick's hot doesn't mean you give her nuclear weapons. I mean what does she know about national security?"
Francine taps her fingers on a counter waiting for the rest of her table's orders and says, "You're just being sexist. What do you know about national security, Ritchie?"
Ritchie points the tip of his knife at himself and says, "I'm not running for president. She is."
"Zing!" Rasheed says, picking up some dishes to throw in the dishwasher.
"Touche," Francine says, "In any case, whenever I hear the words 'national security' I hide my purse because usually the politicians just use it as an excuse to scare the taxpayers into coughing up more money for the politicians and their buddies the war profiteers."
"Ah, shit, here we go again. Should I get out your soapbox, Frannie?" Manuel says, digging beaneath the counter to pull out a milkcrate.
"That's a milkcrate," Ritchie says.
"It's an expression, idiot!" Manuel says, putting the milkcrate by Francine, who stands up on it.
"I'm not the one voting a porn star president," Ritchie sniffs and starts cutting onions.
Francine starts to give a semi-mock speech about the national security state and its negative effect on the real economy and the average American--"And, did you ever notice that whenever the president's in trouble politically, they trot out a terrorist to distract everyone?"--when Michael the manager walks through the swinging doors.
Rasheed looks up from loading dishes in the dishwasher and says, "I want you to know I had nothing to do with this."
Michael just shakes his head and says, "I don't even want to know but when I get back from the office, table 7 better be eating."
He heads to the office and Francine gets off her soapbox and gets her tray ready. Manuel throws the milkcrate back under the counter, while Ritchie sings "Busted!"
"Who are you voting for anyway, Francine?" Manuel says, back at the fryer.
"I haven't decided yet. The Libertarian candidate dropped out so I may actually vote for O'Couscous too."
"All right!" Manuel celebrates, "What about you, Ritchie?"
"It doesn't matter. The world's going to end later this year anyway."
"Oh, God," Francine says, as she leaves with her tray.
"And you were bitching me out about voting for a porn star? What about you, Rasheed?"
"I'm voting for the candidate who promises to shut you all the fuck up and let me work in peace."
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.
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