Fauntleroy slammed his fist down on the desk and looked across at his Chief of Staff, “I want this guy found, he must be the one. Mr. Ludicrous is his name. I see his name everywhere I look. Intelligence briefings hint at him, the media always mentions him. He is a mole right here in the White House and must be found. Call the Intelligence Agencies and step up the search, Mr. Ludicrous is not going to ruin my Presidency.”
The Chief of Staff stood and left the room, followed by his pet peeve, a Senior Advisor.
Fauntleroy reached for his camouflage phone, just as he was about to hit Putt-Baby speed dial, Model T burst into the office. “Papa, you are a genius, getting the factory in China to make orange overalls on time for the deportation plants to open worked so well. My first quarter sales are soaring.” She kissed him, “I love you Papa,” and skipped out of the room.
“Putt-Baby, did you see how I deflected all that Russia talk. The last guy who held this office will take all the flack for weeks as my investigations of his administration works up steam. In the meantime, your strategy for closing down the State Department is working brilliantly. Did you see your man just smile at the cameras without uttering a word of Russian? I tell you we will be fracking in Yellowstone by December.” Faunterloy listened.
“Another ten billion. Yes, we can do that, we will hide it in contracts to build the wall. The money will move easily, but we will need a little time. Hey, did you see, I just killed funding to the arts? Soon, we will be just like Russia.”
Errdick, Mini T walked into the room. “Our tax returns have been subpoenaed. You have to kill those subpoenas. There is so much hidden in there. You gotta call somebody. This is harassment.”
Fauntleroy looked over at his protégés. “We have just been asked to funnel another ten billion through the system. Look into the Lebanon- Arap Türk Bankası A.Ş connection. See what they can handle this time.”
“You’ll take care of the I.R.S.?”
Fauntleroy smiled, “They work for me don’t they?”
Fauntleroy reached over and pushed the intercom button. “Send in Disconcerting.”
The word “Sir,” could be heard.
“Disconcerting, he runs information to the media.” Fauntleroy huffed, “I see his name on all the press releases going out.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
A moment later Banshi walked into the room. “Sir, I have brought you your potion. Are you forgetting to take it? I have been sending Con Con Connie with your elixir each morning in your Royal Residence. Have you been taking it? It arrives daily in the diplomatic pouch from Moscow.”
Fauntleroy stared around the room. “I want to ruin someone. I have not ruined anyone for several days now.”
“Yes, Mr. President. I will see to it at once.”
This is a work of fiction. No responses from inquiries to the Ukrainian Parliament were received. There is no present proof of innuendo in payoffs, bribes, diplomatic pouches, payouts through members of the Russian Embassy. Changes in the party in powers, platform regarding the invasion of the sovereign nation of Ukraine are purely coincidental. Names and amounts written in private journals of the exiled president are public record.
Fauntleroy and Flossy, are not for everybody. Vanishing civil liberties, international goodwill and trust are non-contingent to facts in evidence. To bolster the impact of the Fauntleroy administration, California wine makers have stepped up production and will begin shipping nationwide prior to any border taxes between States are passed, and ahead of Russian wines hitting the inner city markets.
Josef Salvat - Hustler
Casino Soundtrack - The Animals - The House of the Rising Sun
The Godfather Soundtrack
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