Skip to main content

Fauntleroy and Flossy – The Ghosts of Presidents Past


Fauntleroy glanced away from his image in the mirror towards his wife. “What did you say? I look so good.”

Flossy sat at her dressing table, applying her morning face. “Why do they tease me so, darling?”

Fauntleroy turned back toward the mirror. “You offered a small gift out of respect. That’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Darling, I don’t understand Americans. I give a poor black family a small gift, and people are critical. We don’t give poor black families anything, and people are critical.”

“We will punish all those that hurt any of us. Laws are being passed all over the country to prevent protesters. We will block the right to assemble at every turn. Just Saturday we stopped Canadians from crossing the border.”

“Darling, isn’t that unconstitutional?”

“The constitution is what I say it is. The people are weak; we need to tell them what to think and what to do. They will be happy to get clean drinking water. The age of regulations is over. Capitalism unleashed, that is what is needed.”

Flossy opened a $200.00 jar of Lancôme, on the table, “Darling, I have a moisturizer to cover my flaws.”


Fauntleroy straightened his tie and left the room. He was late for a Cabinet Meeting.

Fauntleroy sat at the center of the large corporate table. His generals sat, fanning out on his right and left in order of importance.

Vader began talking. In just moments Fauntleroy’s eyes glazed over, and the words flowed toward him, but did not penetrate his consciousness. His mind drifted, and the first vision of ghosts of presidents past appeared.

The phantom George Washington, standing at the front of the craft crossing the Delaware was the first to enter the sleep state that Fauntleroy found himself. He looked directly into Fauntleroy’s eyes and said, “Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder.” Then George turned back as if to go and had a second thought. He turned back and said, “I stand at the front of the boat, but the boat goes nowhere without the people to row and steer.”

Fauntleroy waved his hand. The people sitting with him took it as a signal to continue, but Fauntleroy was just trying to chase off the image.

The proud spirit of Thomas Jefferson appeared.

“Why does your hair look so funny?” Fauntleroy asked. Each member of the cabinet raised their hand to their hair.

Sir, indeed, sir. Why does your hair look so funny?” Thomas Jefferson affronted by this man.

“Ok, Ok, what is your advice? Why have you found your way into my consciousness?”

“Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude.” Thomas offered.

“Yeah, yeah. I knew that. Didn’t Norman Vincent Peale say that?”

Norman who? He may have, but I said it first.” Jefferson paused, “This is not a debate.

James Madison tapped Jefferson on the shoulder. “Here, please let me try. Faunt, pay attention. The purpose of separation of church and state is to keep forever from these shores the ceaseless strife that has soaked the soil of Europe with blood for centuries.”

Madison looked deeply at Fauntleroy’s expression. “Nope, he is not getting it.” The ghost of Madison put his hands on his hips and tapped his foot. “See if we can find Teddy.”

Fauntleroy mumbled, “you idiots go away.” His Secretary of Education and his Secretary of Energy got up and left the meeting.

The large imposing figure of Teddy Roosevelt entered the room and took a big stick and hit the mahogany table. It startled the living. “Listen, do you hear me? To announce that there must be no criticism of the president... is morally treasonable to the American public. Get it through your head man.” Teddy paused. “Come on you guys, let’s head over to the President’s club, I am buying. The first round only; no offense, George. Maybe he will get it; maybe he will not.”

The cabinet collectively cleared their throats. Fauntleroy waved at an invisible fly. The two former generals stood and left the room.

“I am the ghosts of presidents present,” an educated New England voice said. A young, well-groomed man stood before Fauntleroy. “Let us not seek the Republican answer or the Democratic answer, but the right answer. Let us not seek to fix the blame for the past. Let us accept our own responsibility for the future.” John F. Kennedy stood there, hands at his sides, unlike Teddy Roosevelt’s entrance. “This is important. Make a mental correction in your thinking. ‘Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.’ Kennedy paused and looked over his shoulder at his brother. “Do you want to head over to the President’s club, and have a drink? I am sure I can get you in. Is there anyone out in the hall?”

Robert looked over his shoulder, then back. “Barack wants to know if only dead presidents get to give advice.”

John called back, “What the hell, let him in.”

“Look,” Barack said. “I know we just spoke last week, but this is important. We, the People, recognize that we have responsibilities as well as rights; that our destinies are bound together; that a freedom which only asks what's in it for me, a freedom without a commitment to others, a freedom without love or charity or duty or patriotism, is unworthy of our founding ideals, and those who died in their defense. He paused, “If you remember that and what the others mentioned, you might be alright.” He tossed a Tiffany box down on the table in front of Fauntleroy. “Please give this back to Flossy. We won’t be needing your letter of recommendation.”

Fauntleroy mumbled, “is that all.”

A voice in his head said, “Just one more.”

“Get on with it, this is no way to run a meeting,” Fauntleroy said to the empty room.

“I am the ghost of the President’s future.” The voice said, with a thick Russian accent. “If you invite a United Socialist Soviet Europe, you will end with a United Socialist Soviet America.”

Marine Staff Sergeant Timothy Hargrove walked into the room with the help of a pair of crutches. At six foot three and two hundred and twenty pounds, he was formidable. His right pant leg neatly pinned near the knee. “Sir, my name is Sergeant Timothy Hargrove. They call me ‘Tiny Tim.’ I heard what all those men of history had to say.” Tim made a face. “I’d like to say something also.” He paused again. “Don’t screw this up.”


Fauntleroy woke and looked around. “I am going to cook your goose.”

Maniacal laughter followed.


This dramatization is a Dicksonian fictionalization from an unutterable imagination. It is fiction. No presidents were injured during the production of this event. Historical representations are used to emphasize the kaleidoscope perspectives as presented to the general public. All presidential sounding quotes were drawn from the well known All non-presidential utterances are that of the author and the imagined official chatter that will be lost to history.

This writing is offered without warranty. Consult your history, consult your Father’s, hell, consult your consultants; all will tell you the same thing. Take note, if today we are told that Russia is the friend of the United States, then everything you have been told up, from the day you entered school until now is wrong.

Fauntleroy and Flossy is not for everyone. The slogan, “Advancing the Kingdom of God,” can be interpreted as ‘doomsday.’ Aggressive behavior has been witnessed in unfettered religious zealots in trial samplings throughout history. The ethnic cleansers and the torturers spouted righteousness.

“Goodness without wisdom always accomplishes evil.”
― Robert A. Heinlein

If challenges in concentration occur, stop reading Fauntleroy and Flossy immediately as craving for cocaine may intensify.

Liar, Liar - The Castaways (1965)

© 2017 mckbirdbks

Related Articles