Blood

"I think she loved you too, for a while, anyway. Before you broke up with her."

"That was the biggest mistake I ever made in my life, sweetfeet."

"That's what she said, too."

He laughed a little at that. "I bet she did, my little pumpkin."

+++++

They came for him in the night now. Imogen, but Carol Templeton came now, too.

His wife whispered in his right eat, while the woman he truly loved spoke beguilingly into his left. Then one night, while Imogen was busy telling her husband about all the new plots to kill him, Carol pulled down the bedsheets and looked at the massive python coiled up on Carpenter's lap.

"My word," Templeton said, looking at the foot and a half long pecker coiled-up there. "It IS bigger!"

Imogen drifted down and looked at his pecker, then took the beast in hand and began playing with it. "Hmm. He was never this big before..."

"How does it taste?" Carol asked.

"Not too bad."

"Save some for me, would you?"

"Sure. I'm certain there's more than enough of him to go around."

"Imogen, look! I think his fingers are longer now, too! And look! He's dancing again!"

+++++

I'm singin' in the rain

Just singin' in the rain

What a glorious feelin'

I'm happy again...

+++++

"So, who's on first this morning, Oscar?"

"A representative from the Sudan, Mr President."

"Oh, swell."

"Yes, Mr President. One of -- them."

"Well, send him in."

"He's a she, Mr President."

"A tranny?"

"No sir. One of them. A female."

"Okay. So, like, go ahead -- make my day."

The woman was shown into The Oval Office and Carpenter was duly impressed. Her skin was as black as night, and at six feet tall the woman could not have weighed ninety pounds. 'Bet she fucks like a mongoose, too,' he sighed as he stared at the woman's worn, bare feet...

And as the woman spoke of conditions in her homeland, about the persistent drought and failing crops and the almost constant conflict between competing warlords, she noticed he seemed to be listening first with one ear, then the other...like he was listening to two competing counselors, each intently whispering contrary advice directly into his mind. He would, apparently, grasp one idea, only to have it pushed aside as another idea rushed in to take the first's place, yet she saw he was growing more confused with each passing idea.

And at one point he paused, summoned someone to bring him a fresh bag of pork rinds.

"Want one?" he asked the Sudanese woman as he tore open the bag.

"What is that? It smells dreadful?"

"Fried pork skin, darlin'. Lite and vacuous, just like me. A staple of the party's diet for more than thirty years now."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I'm afraid I don't either, but could I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course, Mr President."

"Could I smell your feet, please?"

+++++

The new President of France was next on his list, and this woman was pudgy, with fake blond hair, too.

"Have we been accommodating enough, Mr President?"

"Yes, Madame President. Prince Vlad is most pleased with the turnaround you've affected. Care for another pork rind?"

"Ooh, yes, please! They're so light and tasty!"

"Yes, just like me."

Her eyes sparkled seductively... "May I, Mr President?"

"Yes," he said, working in his chair, pulling down his trousers, "you may, but I was wondering?"

"Yes, Mr President?"

"Is blond your natural hair color?"

She blushed as she got down on her knees.

+++++

And yet, he seemed happiest on those days when Elizabeth joined him for lunch in the West Wing.

"You know, I know you're only seven, but I find you extraordinarily attractive."

"Thanks, Asshole."

He smiled, took a sip from his frosty mug of root beer. "So. What have you been up to this morning?"

"Me? Oh, I was talking to Mrs Polk."

"Who?"

"Mathias Polk's mom."

He shrugged. "Like I know who Mathias Polk is?"

"He was the cop killed in Oxford, the same night you were shot."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you have his heart now, and she wanted to visit it, you know, to see how it's doing in it's new home."

"I have a new heart?"

"Like, duh?! A black heart, too."

"Black?"

"Sure, how else can you account for all the changes..."

"Changes?"

"Sure. You know, the 'wink-wink, nod-nod' longer fingers, the darker skin, the unquenchable desire for pork rinds?"

"But I've always liked pork rinds!"

"Yeah. Kind of makes you think, doesn't it? Anyway, she wanted to drop by for a visit."

"A visit? To visit my heart?"

"No, to visit me."

"You?"

"Yes. The night you were shot I was flown down to Oxford to say goodbye to my mother, and I met Mrs Polk that night."

"Oh?"

"Yes, we talked. Became friends."

"Ah."

"Wouldn't you like to know what we talked about?"

"I think you've very attractive, you know."

"We talked about love, and hate..."

"Care for another pork rind?"

"...and the choices uninformed people make," but as she looked at Carpenter now, she saw he was listening to those voices in his head again, and then he burst up and started pirouetting around the room...singing manically as he danced round and round:

I'm singin' in the rain

Just singin' in the rain

What a glorious feelin'

I'm happy again...

And then he blew out the main office door, singing and dancing his way towards the swimming pool. Moments later she heard a shout -- "watch out, there he goes!" -- then him thrashing away in the pool -- and then Secret Service agents diving in after him and she laughed, looked at his unfinished her pork rinds and wondered what the voices said to make him dance like that.

+++++

Television cameras from one of the major networks were set up in the Oval Office, aimed at Carpenter's desk -- which was flanked by two huge Christmas trees and several Secret Service agents. Jenna Jameson, the network's latest, most highly qualified star reporter, came and took her seat in front of the desk, just before Carpenter entered the room. Once he was seated the camera's red light blinked on, and Ms Jameson began her introductory remarks:

"Good Evening, America! Yeah! Woo-whoo! And a big welcome from our studio audience with us tonight! Wow, look at that excitement! And here he is, President Carpenter! Yeah!"

"Merry Christmas, Jenna!" Carpenter exclaimed, then, turning to the camera and pointing: "And to you, America, a Merry Fuckin' Christmas!"

They paused for the cheers to die down, which took a few minutes.

"Mr President, a big Thank You for inviting us to the Oval Office this year!"

(Pause -- cheers)

"You're welcome, Jenna, but I must say, with legs like yours -- well, I couldn't NOT invite you!"

(Pause -- cheers -- catcalls)

Jameson crossed her legs and Carpenter began drooling.

"Like those, do you, Mr President?"

"Jenna, you have no idea!"

(Pause -- cheers -- whistling -- salacious stripper music heard on background audio)

"Well, Hell, Mr President! Look at that pecker!"

(Pause -- cheers -- catcalls -- rampaging chimpanzees heard in background)

Then Jameson turned serious. "So, Mr President, about world events. It's not looking too good out there, is it?"

Carpenter looked somber, stern, grandfatherly. "What do you mean, Jenna?"

"Well, look at Australia?"

"Australia? Why would anyone want to look down there?"

"Well, the Chinese annexed Australia today. Some people have said that's kind of a big deal."

"Bah, humbug. That was a wonderful deal -- just wonderful!"

"Well, renaming Sydney Mao City was seen as a little over the top!"

"Not really. Look, Jenna, the Chinese already own half the real estate down there, so what's the big fuckin' deal? That's the beauty to the free market! Am I right?! Huh? Am I?"

(Pause -- loud applause, a few cheers)

"Yes you are, Mr President! So right!"

(Loud applause)

"But," she continued, "some are saying events in Europe represent a failure of American leadership, and that the post-Cold War Pax Americana is now dead."

"Dead? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? It's never been healthier! Look, me and Prince Vlad made a deal, see, and things have never been better. You'll see. Never better!"

(Thunderous applause)

"And Jenna, did I mention I love your shoes? Six inch heels? KA-BOOM! Look at that toe cleavage!"

(Pause -- cheers -- whistling -- salacious stripper music)

"Really, ladies and gentlemen, look at those fuckin' shoes! OUTRAGEOUS!"

(Pause -- wild applause -- whistling -- sounds of braking cars and a wreck in the distance)

"Could I lick your toes, Jenna?"

"Maybe after the show, Mr President."

(Arms crossed, glowering) "Fine, be that way, see if I care."

(Pause -- boos and moans) "Well, maybe just a little lick," Jameson said, lifting her foot to the desk.

Carpenter begins licking and moaning. "In case you were wondering," he said during a pause and looking into the camera, "she tastes a little like...pork rinds!"

(Thunderous applause)

"Now, Mr President, on the domestic front, as you know many people, many seniors, are upset about losing their social security and medicare..."

"Listen, Jenna, I've about had it with the whiners and complainers out there. Sick people are parasites, and so are the elderly. They don't produce a thing, so they've got to go! They're only here to drag the rest of us down, and I'm just not going to allow that to happen any longer!"

(Pause -- cheers -- thunderous applause, mutters of approval in background)

"But Mr President, even many of the voters in your own party say they never knew something like this would happen?"

"Listen, we've got a lot of brainwashed morons out there that vote how we tell 'em to vote. The issue has always been front and center in all our campaign literature." Now he turned and faced the camera, his expression turned menacing as he pointed directly into the lens. "But remember this, if you get sick, we have a special plan for dealing with deadbeats like you."

"Thank You Mr President!"

(Pause -- cheers -- thunderous applause)

"You're most welcome, Jenna. Most welcome! So welcome," he said, standing now, taking a bow.

"Now one final concern tonight, President Carpenter, and it's about these reports of zombies. Zombies appearing everywhere."

"Zombies? You mean, like..."

"Yessir. Just like in that silly TV show."

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen those reports just yet," but Jameson thought it odd that Carpenter suddenly seemed to be listening to someone else. TWO someone elses, she soon saw, because he was now -- out of the blue -- talking with two different voices.

"You can't listen to these vile lies anymore, Dennis!"

"What lies?"

"But they aren't lies! He has to, or how else will he know what's really going on?"

"Going on? What's going on? Where?"

"Mr President? Are you alright?"

"See, she's onto us Dennis. Shut up, NOW!"

"Onto us? Who's onto us?"

"Mr President?"

"It's alright, Mr President. The truth will set you free!"

"Carol, is that you?"

"Yes, Mr President..."

"Who's Carol?" Jameson said looking around, because she was sure SHE heard the voices, too. If the president was hearing voices, then she had to, too. Right?

"Carol, I miss you so much. So does Elizabeth."

"I know you do, Dennis, but I'm here with you...just listen to me, listen to my voice..."

"Dennis, don't listen to that liberal cunt! Listen to me, listen-to-ME..."

And then the music began to play again, to drown out the voices, because he found music the only thing that helped him cope.

Right by my feet, lay broken glasses

Your Skeleton Boy

"Mr President? Where's that music coming from?"

Sweat from the walls, drips on my shoulder

Let's face this night, and see it through

"Mr President?" Jameson asked again. "Why are you dancing?"

Your love is out

Believing despite the loss

Give me your hand

Let's face this night, and see it through

But the voices suddenly stopped, the music too, and Carpenter sat down behind his desk again.

"Ahem, yes, where were we?"

"Mr President, I hate to say this, but I heard voices just now. Two women, talking to you."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes Jenna. Fantastic voices. SO fantastic. You had another question?"

"Yes, Mr President. A difficult question, I know, but there have been rumors circulating recently that you have, well, a black heart..."

"A black heart?"

"Yessir. When you were, well, during that awful incident in Mississippi, you received a donor heart. From a black man...?"

"I did?"

"Yessir. That's the rumor, anyway."

"I'll have to have someone look into that. We have fantastic people here for just this sort of thing. Fantastic people, believe me."

"Well, see, the thing is, according to the reports we're getting, well, anyway, whenever your supporters hear that you've got a black heart, well sir, they turn into zombies."

"Seriously? Is this a joke of some sort?"

"No sir, I'm as serious as a heart attack. So, you don't know anything about this?"

"First I've heard of it, Jenna. Really, really great shoes, though."

"Sir? Mr President? Are you hearing those voices again?"

"What voices, Jenna?"

"Those voices," the reporter said, pulling the earpiece out of her ear. "I can hear them through the speaker in my ear..."

"Now, now, Jenna. It's alright. We've got people here, fantastic people, by the way, who can help you with this little problem...just relax and we'll take care of you."

+++++

"Yes, Joe, it's a great day down here in New Orleans. This year's Sugar Bowl should be a terrific match-up between two great teams, two perennial power-houses, Notre Dame and Ole Miss."

"Yes, Bob, and what a story we have this year -- what with Ole Miss's star quarterback, John Dalton, getting injured in that dramatic takedown, the same night President Carpenter was shot."

"Yes, Bob, and I'm sure it's an old story by now, one everyone's been talking about for weeks, but John Dalton's failed attempt to rescue Officer Mathias Polk led to President Carpenter's personal salvation."

"Yes, Joe, and don't forget, we have word that Mindy Mendenhall, Dalton's injured fiancé, will apparently be with him on the sidelines this evening."

"Yes, Bob, and what a terrible tragedy this has been, for all of us...all of us."

"Yes, Joe, the gunshot to the face, the loss of sight...just terrible, terrible...for all of us."

"Yes, Bob, terrible, but without Dalton's bravery, Carpenter might not have gotten his heart transplant..."

(Joe covers his mic, whispers to Bob) "You know we're not to supposed to mention that stuff anymore!"

(Bob covers his mic, leans over and whispers) "Why not?"

(Joe leans closer still) "Because every time someone mentions the transplant more zombies appear."

(Bob leans closer still, and falls out of his chair) "Fuck!" (camera pans over audience while hundreds of new zombies stand, staring straight ahead now, drool running from vast fangs)

"Yes, well said, Bob! And remember folks, tonight's pre-game show has been brought to you by K*Y Personal Lubricants. Remember, use K*Y when you've absolutely, positively got to get it in the first time -- every time!"

+++++

"Joe? Joe? This is Jenna Jameson, down on the sidelines with John Dalton. Can you hear me, Joe?"

"Yes, Jenna. How are you?"

"Why Joe, how nice of you to ask!"

"Yes, Jenna, well, I think a lot of inquiring minds wanted to know how things went after the interview with President Carpenter. You've remained remarkably silent about that?"

"Yes, Joe, I have."

"Yes, Jenna, well, is there any truth to the rumor that the president's penis is over a foot long now, and black?"

"Yes, Joe, as you can see, I've got John Dalton down here with me now."

"Yes, Jenna, thanks for confirming that!"

"Yes, Joe, you're welcome. Now, here's Ole Miss's star quarterback, John Dalton. John, we understand your entire right shoulder had to be rebuilt. How have you recovered so quickly?"

"Just got to work, Jenna, because that's what you've got to do when the chips are down. But Mindy's the real hero, you know, the real deal."

"Yes, John? This is Joe, up here in the booth."

"Yes, Joe?"

"Yes, John. Look, I was a quarterback in the NFL for ever a decade, and if I'd been forced to change arms like you have, throwing right-handed all my life then having to switch to my left, I, well, I couldn't have done it. To what do you owe this success?"

"Yes, Joe, I was a big fan of yours?"

"Yes, John, thanks for that! Say, what do you make of all these rumors? About President Carpenter's cock?"

"Yes, Joe, you know, he visited us in the locker room an hour ago..."

"Yes, John, you mean -- the President's here?"

"Yes, Joe, he sure is. And he took a leak while he was talking to some of us, and I'd have to say his pecker is about two feet long now, and as black as a cottonmouth's ass."

"Yes, uh -- no shit?"

"Yes, Joe, that's a big no shit, right back atya."

"Joe, Jenna here...and I think Carpenter is up in the stands, and yes, he's working the crowd. Yes Joe, there he is, coming down the aisle, heading right for us..."

"Yes, Jenna, and it looks like The Presidential Podium is being wheeled out to mid-field, right on the fifty yard line, so we may have some opening comments from The Man Himself before the coin toss."

"Yes, Joe, that's exactly what it looks like."

"Yes, uh, well, something's not right."

"Yes, Jenna? What is it...what do you see?"

"Yes, Joe, well, uh, yes, well, let's see. How do I put this? Well, uh, he's, uh, well, it's Carpenter alright, but, well -- he's -- black."

"Yes, Jenna, it kind of looks like that from up here too. That's, uh, well, kind of -- incredible."

"Yes, Hey Joe, it sure is incredible.

"Yes, Jenna, any idea who that is with him?"

"Yes, Joe, none at all...wait! Well, Hey, Joe, I think it's Mindy Mendenhall and, well, yes, I don't know who the other woman is."

"Joe? Jenna? John Dalton here...that's LiddyMay Polk! Officer Mathias Polk's mother!"

"Uh, yes John? Who's Mathias Polk?"

"Yes, Joe, Jenna here, that's the police officer who was killed the night President Carpenter was s-s-shot. It's P-P-Polk's heart beating away in C-C-Carpenter's c-c-chest..."

"Yes, Jenna...uh...are you alright?"

+++++

"I'm not so sure about this, Dennis..." Carol Templeton whispered.

"Don't listen to her, you putz!" Lady Imogen cried. "We must declare, tonight, before all is lost!"

"Are you crazy? Haven't you seen what's happening to him?"

"No? What's happening to him?"

"He's turning -- BLACK -- you moron!"

"Black? What do you mean, black?"

"I mean it's not just his two foot long pecker anymore, you bitch! His skin's turning black!"

"Black? You mean...like a...NIGGER?"

"YES!"

"Oh, shit."

"No kidding, oh shit! When the zombies see this, they're gonna go bat-shit crazy!"

"There's gonna be real trouble tonight," Lady Imogen sighed thoughtfully. "But, Dennis, I still think we'll get good coverage from the networks."

+++++

Carpenter stood on the hastily erected stage -- behind the podium -- flanked by Mindy Mendenhall and John Dalton on one side, and GiddyMay Polk on the other. His arms were stretched wide, an inclusive gesture of the warmth he felt in his heart for the crowd assembled around him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! My Fellow Americans!" he bellowed into the microphone. "What a great night to be alive!"