Chapter 5 – When Presidents Beg (page 10 of 10)
Melo and Burggl still stood quietly beside us, still at attention, now visibly cramping up and struggling to maintain their uncomfortable positions against the wicked build up of acids within their augmented muscle cells, but they said nothing. This was in part because there’s little you can say in the face of a determined president, in part because they were still not permitted to speak freely or be at ease, and in part because they still had Charlize on the hybrid-brain. But can you blame them? I can’t emphasize enough how completely over her I was then and am now, looking back at it. But I can see why lesser demi-men would be transfixed with so much as the suggestion of her.
"Mister President," I said standing as tall as I was able, "You had me at the screaming of ‘TEK!’ I will take your mission. You need only tell me what to do."
What can I say? When presidents come to beg, you can not turn them down.
An aide beside the president rushed forward and pulled a lysergic memory dot from his pocket library, saying "Here’s everything you need to know about the mission. There’s no time to explain it now, you must gather your Alpha Squad and launch via magnotorocket this very minute. All will be explained in time."
The President was already on his way back to his craft, posing only briefly with a hat rack for a photo opportunity, presumably proving his advocacy for hat rack rights. It was up to me to take matters into my control from there.
"Burggl, Melo," I shouted with authority. "Grab your bags and call the Squad, we’ve got a magnotorocket to catch." I turned to the lackluster concierge again, "Random guy, send a telegram to the President. Tell him I thank him for his visit, stop. That I accept my charge, stop, and that I am on my way to do as I must, stop."
The concierge smiled, though I doubted he’d remember any part of what I said, and frantically began scribbling something on to something else.
"Oh," I added, in a moment ideal for wrapping up a chapter, "and when it comes to asking for celebrity autographs, you need to stop, stop."
"Guys," I said inspiringly only to my accompanying ghost writer, the last person standing around who wasn't already headed back out to our ship, "we’ve got a Universe to save."
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