Kohl’s Cash and Carry
President Evan Bacon was pacing back and forth in the Oval Office and going over what he was going to say in his address to the American public and the world. He looked at his appearance in the mirror.
“I need more powder on my nose; it’s too shiny. I look like Nixon in his debate with Kennedy.”
“The makeup artist is already gone; you told him you were ready,” Eggs his Chief of Staff said.
“Well, call him back; this is my Gettysburg Address. It is my F.D.R. State of the Union Address; it’s my…”
He couldn’t think of anymore famous presidential speeches, so he added, “it’s my god damn one small step for man speech.”
“Yes Mr. President. Cameron called; he needs to speak to you immediately.”
“This is no time to talk about movie roles; I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“Sir? Oh no, not that Cameron; I meant the British Prime Minister. You also received phone calls from Chancellor Merkel and Putin.”
“Call them all back. Tell Cameron I need him to pull a, Winston Churchill type person out of his ass. Tell Merkel, this is no time for a third attempt to take over Europe. Tell Putin, that I’m already married and no means no. Did anyone else call?”
“Dick Cheney called and said we should start drilling for oil on the debris, before the Russians and the Chinese beat us to it.”
“Dick Cheney? I thought he was dead.”
“No sir; that’s just the way he looks.”
“Okay listen, I’ll deal with all these people later; right now I need to concentrate on my speech.”
White House Press Secretary, Helen Yardley, walked in looking a little disheveled. She had not slept much over the past few days.
“Mr. President, you should go ahead and take your seat. We start in one minute.”
“Do you still want me to call the makeup artist?” Eggs asked.
“No, there’s no time. I’ll have to just look like a street hooker.”
The president sat down at the Oval Office desk and folded his hands. He thought that looked more presidential.
“Okay, we are on in five, four, three to two, one…”
Helen gives the signal that it’s time for transmission.
“Good afternoon, my fellow Americans. NASA scientists have confirmed that what we thought earlier of as debris, is not debris at all. At this point in time, they have not yet been able to identify the approaching objects that are now in Mars’ gravitational pull. Scientists are now classifying the objects as a ‘clusterfuckus.’ It is still too early to tell, if this clusterfuckus is on a trajectory towards Earth. You can rest assured, that we are putting a contingency plan in place though; we are prepared to launch missiles to intercept and destroy this clusterfuckus, or at least deflect it from its current path. We will have to wait until they get closer to Earth, when they are in range of our missiles. This is one of a few options we are considering, but it is all speculation at this time. I know this of great concern to everyone, but I cannot stress the importance of remaining calm and going about your daily routine. As F.D.R. once said, ‘the only thing we have to fear, is fear itself or an asteroid, the size of California, hitting the earth and wiping out the entire population.’ If the clusterfuckus turns out to be an asteroid, I can promise you; we will not stand idly by like the dinosaurs did. We are Americans and we have much larger brains. As with every other challenge in our nation’s history, we will prevail, unlike that time in Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan and the Civil War, depending on which side you were on. I will keep you apprised of the situation and let you know information as soon as I know it, because we are all in this together. Good afternoon America and God bless.
The Press Secretary gave the all clear sign.
“Sir, the press has been relentless; do you want me to make a statement and take some questions?” Helen asked.
“Hold the press off as long as you can, at least until we know more. I don’t want them creating a panic.”
“I’ll try sir, but CNN already has Anderson Cooper in a windbreaker.”
“Damn, that’s never good.”
“Try to relax Mr. President.”
“I won’t be able to relax, not until I know my husband is safe and sound.”
Weaving their way through the streets of D.C., Kitty and her crew are slowly making their way to The White House. The path up until this point has been littered with looters. Ever cautious, the Secret Service has been hiding the first husband in emptied out stores, until the streets are calm enough to reach the next gutted business. Currently, the group is hiding out in a small mom and pop convenience store.
“I wonder why they haven’t touched this spot yet?” Tad asked.
Larry, one of the secret service men assigned to protect the first husband, turns from the window just long enough to acknowledge he heard the question and looking back out of the window says, “Everyone is looting Kohl’s.”
“Kohl’s?” Geoff asked.
“Yes. Kohl’s. This is Washington; it’s not exactly known for being stocked with intelligent people.”
He looks at Mick to add, “Present company excluded, sir.”
Mick closes his clamshell compact mirror with a quick snap and looks up at Larry with his freshly lined eyes. “Humh?”
“Nothing sir, just making sure you’re okay.”
“Oh, everything is kittens and dildos over here.”
Lorenzo’s head tilts like a confused puppy, “I don’t understand this phrase hey.”
“I don’t think that is a real saying,” Tom said.
“Tom,” says Mick, “May I call you Tom?”
“Um, yes sir, but my name is actu-”
“Tom,” Mick interrupted, “has anyone ever told you that you have a kind face?”
Tom, the waiter, just stares at the first husband, shrugs and flashes a little smile.
Kitty couldn’t help but notice how Mick had a way about him; he could be a horse’s ass and still retain favorability.
“How do you do that?” She asks.
“Look so fabulous?”
“No, how do make people love you? With all due respect, you have a job that many people frown upon, yet even the Bible thumpers like you. You single handedly brought porn to the mainstream.”
“And I can be an asshole.”
“And you can be an asshole,” she confirmed.
“Just good, I guess. But it wasn’t always that way…”
Hot off the heels of his last movie, The Men Who Stare at Chodes; a huge success in the porno industry, Mick Cage was preparing for his next project. His last film was the first pornographic film to earn the term, “Blockbuster” for its word-of-mouth buzz; generating long lines during the first three weeks of its run. The buzz around this current project is already eclipsing anything ever seen in the adult movie industry. Feces of Death, has already pre-sold more tickets than last year’s top box office draw, Fast and Furious 13: Beating a Dead Horse.
“The word around Hollywood is, Feces of Death may be an Oscar contender,” Mick’s manager, Marlo Jenkins, boasts.
“I’ve been talking with MGM; they are making a movie called, Sex and the City and Death. They want you for the lead role of Brad Shaw!”
“That could seriously be a game changer for me,” Mick said.
“Feces of Death is going to make you a huge action star. The whole idea of you getting revenge on the men responsible for raping you into a decade long coma is so original.”
“I couldn’t have gotten this far without you, Marlo,” Mick is quick to point out.
“No, this was all you, Mick. I don’t know what happened to you after you wrapped, Pokahotass; that cowboys and Indians themed porno you filmed in North Carolina two years ago, but ever since that day; you’ve been knocking it out of the park.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve just been lucky I guess.”
“No, it’s more than that. You’re glowing. It’s like you’re pregnant or something. Mick, I think you’re in love.”