10 Ambition

Shame only works in groups. Voting is anonymous. Crime is private. I'll have to make peace look like a good idea.

- Mr President's Notes to Self Twitter Account

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3 Months Later

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I check the time. I'm early for my date. I sit quietly. I check the time. Still early. Fuck it, I'm starting without him.

I'm waiting in my private room at Candy's club. Well, I'm virtually waiting in a virtual private room at Candy's club. I'm actually at home on the couch. Having a virtual private room is pretty ridiculous. If I want privacy in virtual space, I can just change my settings on AsPro. Having a private room in a voyeurs club is beyond ridiculous, but Candy allows it, because it drives everybody crazy.

I've never met my date before, but we have already agreed on most of the particulars of our evening. This is not uncommon. Virtual dating allows for a gargantuan dating pool for even the weirdest people. Dates get pretty specific.

I load up today's episode of Mr President. He's a hell of a guy. Motherfucker cured cancer! And put city on Mars! Though, that was somewhat marred by the Monkey War. But, fuck it, it's our city now! Today he is presenting a plan for world peace. Also, he's blown all our money on cancer cures and rocketships, so he wants to raid the defence budget. Still, how rad would world peace be? I bet he pulls it off.

I get the feed set up to go live when the show starts. It's an AsPro feed of a conference table, with an empty chair for virtual lurkers. Now I'm in a virtual room in a virtual room. Whatever. I turn the chair into a loveseat just as my date arrives. He's not attractive by any commercial metric, but I like him well enough. My taste in men is testament to the evolutionary pressures of doggy style. I pat next to me, inviting him to get cozy. He has popcorn and a joint, same as me. That was all arranged. I'd normally like to have a bit of a conversation, but the show is about to start. So, in lieu of pleasantries, I give him a kiss on the cheek and a friendly rub on the penis. He's shy, pleased, and unsurprised.

The show starts. On one side of the table are various military and security chiefs. On the other sits Mr President and the Darkness. He's smiling, she's stern. The army guys have their army guy faces on.

"Hi." says Mr President, "We recently cured cancer, which is going to save us a lot of money in the long run, but has left us a tad broke right now. I'm fine with that, but there's still a bunch of stuff killing everybody, so we need a fuck ton more money. The military has our last fuck ton of cash, so you guys have to get other jobs for a bit. Just until we cure everything."

Nobody says anything. I crunch my popcorn.

"We're calling it Operation Everybody Be Cool." says Mr President. "We're asking the world for 5 years of peace. That's long enough to cure pretty much everything. Then we share the cures with everybody, and they can go back to shooting each other. If they want. I think everybody will go for it. Getting sick and dying is a real drag."

More silence. More popcorn.

"I know, some asshole's gonna fuck around. We'll keep the spies and the nukes. That should keep them from getting too frisky. We call that Operation Nobody Gets Hurt."

More silence. My popcorn is taking a hit.

"So, can I count on your support?" says Mr President.

"No." says General Somebody, "Our conventional forces are what keeps the free world free."

"Our conventional forces are obsolete." says Mr President. "They let us be the half-assed dictators of the Middle East. They conveniently funnel tax dollars to sociopaths. But they can't beat our real enemies. They can't even find them."

"With respect, Mr President, but what do you know?" says General Somebody. "You've never served. Hell, till a year ago, you never had a real job."

Mr President scowls. The Darkness smiles.

"I've never been to war, but I've won as many as you have." says Mr President. "You're lucky they give out participation medals."

"You are never going to get the votes to strip our budget." says General Somebody.

"Yes I will. There are war games coming up. You are about to lose them badly. Then I'll call the vote." says Mr President.

"Ha! You're going to run Red Team?" says General Somebody.

"No, the Darkness is."

Silence. Mr President drops the mic and leaves, grumpy. The Darkness beams. The military and security chiefs leave one by one. Except the National Spying Advisor who holds his head and weeps. The feed ends.

"Well, that was terrifying." says my date.

"Really? I thought it was cool." I say.

"I hate of how fast he changes everything. Something is going to go wrong." says my date.

"I guess." I say, "Want to get started?"

He nods eagerly, but is shy and embarrassed. He's unsure how to start.

"Show me what you brought." I say.

He pulls out a menacing dildo. Holy shit, it's huge! I'm no ass doctor, but he seems to be taking some risks. I keep that opinion to myself. I wasn't invited here to doubt his ambitions. I discreetly check my invitation. No, I wasn't.

"Very nice." I say, "Take off your clothes."

He does, and then stands there. Naked, dumpy, and embarrassed. Holding a massive dildo, awkwardly awaiting instruction.

I let him wait as I smoke, enjoying the view. As foreplay goes, this is working for me. Vulnerability is one of the four gifts. I came to receive his.

After 5 minutes, I say "Please proceed."

I really enjoy watching him. There's probably something wrong with me. But, why worry when satisfaction comes so easily. Men have a hard time finding partners they can be vulnerable with. I'm something of a hot commodity.

Afterwards, I try for some small talk, but he clearly wants to go. I tell him I had a great time and he should call me again. He mumbles and shrugs and leaves. He'll call me for sure.

I check my schedule. My next date starts in 40 minutes. Pizza and beer, punk music and cunnilingus. I preheat the oven and hop in the shower.

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