Saturday, September 22, 2012

Potus, introductions part VI

Meanwhile, back in the Presidential bedroom, Potus approached the maid turning down the covers for the evening.  "Excuse me, Miss..."  Potus stopped abruptly when he recognised Shaniqua.  He backed up instinctively.
She smiled broadly.  "Well look what we have here.  Mr. Powerful Overlord Tough Undeserving Shithead."  Potus winced, then frowned, counting on his fingers.  Shaniqua continued, "You thought you could get rid of me with that racist shit?  Well that won't work in this free country you're in charge of.  You're just a sorry weak-ass white boy with your broke-ass databases."
Potus recovered somewhat so he could speak.  "Let me first say, Ms. uh, Shaniqua, that I apologise for any misunderstanding between our, you know, cultures..."  He raised his hands and hurried to continue speaking over her obvious objections.  "I can assure you I had nothing to do with your, uh, your staffing rearrangements due to the, uh, well..."
Shaniqua interrupted.  "Oh yes you did.  I know all about the 'undesirables' and how uncomfortable you are with people of my culTURE."  Her voice raised on the last syllable and she wagged her finger at Potus who took another step backward.  "But I told my boss that if he fires me or even cuts one hour from my paycheck, I'm going to sue him and your ass and the whole United States government until you don't even exist.  I'll send your white ass back to Wichita."
Potus tried comedy.  "Wichita is nice, but I like Lansing.  You should try London, it's nice."
Shaniqua advanced.  "If I breathe one word of this, there will be riots in the streets.  Don't think I won't."
Potus stood his ground recovering again.  "This is America, anyone can protest and riot.  It's boring.  Listen, the poor classes have a sense of injustice which drives their lack of respect for the laws and rights that protect them in the first place.  The laws are designed to protect a bunch of obnoxious idiots who whine about their rights and make us miserable with their unbearable attitudes."
Shaniqua interrupted, "Who said anything about 'poor classes'?  Some day you may find yourself in the position of being an obnoxious idiot like the rest of us."
"That's true," allowed Potus.
Shaniqua continued.  "I'm talking about every single person in this country shouting 'No More Years.  No More Years.'"  She raised her hands holding an imaginary placard and walked in a semi-circle as if protesting on a street corner.
Potus guffawed.  "That's not clever!"
"It's a little bit clever," Shaniqua said.
"Maybe you should tweet that."
"Oh, I'll tweet the shit out of it asshole," Shaniqua said, putting her hands on her hips and thrusting them forward.
Potus laughed.  "Ok, ok.  Let's shake on it.  We're at an uneasy truce.  We'll be cool about it."
Shaniqua stared without moving.  "Cool?" she asked.
"Isn't that what your people, I mean, the, uh, you know, community, I mean, culturally," he stammered.
Shaniqua was livid.  "My PEOPLE?" she yelled.
Potus tried to make amends.  "Whatever the politically correct term is...  I don't know how you say it, just substitute the correct words for whatever I'm supposed to say.  I can't learn your fucking language when you change all the words around every time you get upset about something."
Shaniqua seethed.  Potus extended his hand.  "Truce," he begged.
She stared for a long time, then shook his hand.  "For now," she said cautiously.
Potus smiled broadly and clapped her on the shoulder.  "You see," he said, "the races are united once again with my statesmanship!  I'm like the white Doctor Martin Luther King Junior!"
Shaniqua slapped his hand away.  "Watch it," she warned.
"Hey, ok, ok.  How about that presidential 'man of power' thing you said earlier?"  Potus winked and cocked his head inquisitively.
Shaniqua stared, shocked.
Potus raised his hands and said, "Ok, ok.  Too soon after the truce.  I get it, I get it.  Maybe next time.  Maybe next time.  No?"
Potus retreated back to where the others were waiting.

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