The Commander, The Chief, and The Saviour

"Honestly, if brains were dynamite, I'd blow my foot off. Deliberately. With aplomb, dignity and blood draining from shrapnel-shaped holes. It's been an easy campaign run. Lots of rallies and salutes, though they know I've never served a damn day of my life. They were joyful. The love of this country. The sound of screams, shouts, and the sight of tears and smiles. People adorned in the brightest and boldest red.

When the flags were raised, the drums of freedom echoed. There was a sense we were one.

That’s why I kissed the flag, kissed the badge of honour of those who’ve died for this country. On home soil and foreign land.

When I looked out, I saw my reflection.

They know I love this country. They see me stand up and say the things they’re thinking. Sheeple people. Why bother thinking when the fat man does all the thinking for you?

People often say I’m a liar, a manipulator. Is it manipulation when people accept and follow?

Our dear land has been overrun for too long by those who want to weaken our position. Our resolve. To make the hard decisions. To say no to freeloaders who come to this country to work for wages that should be going to locals.

Leader, Leader, Leader, they'll chant.

People ask, "Are you sure?" and often I wonder if I am, have what it takes. If I am what this country needs. Then I remember.

I remember the child who asked me why his daddy wasn't coming home. He was killed by a foreigner on his front lawn. It lit a fire in my belly.

I realised our attitude towards foreigners. Our loose attitude killed that man. Kills millions every year.

I love my country. Our ancestors carved out this land, a land that belongs only to us. It pains me to see us become the butt of the joke. I swear no one will be laughing when my plans come to fruition.

I remember when I was in the gutter, like many I’ve met on this campaign. The left wanted me to stay in the gutter. But I bounced back.

I love the commoner in the gutter. Respect those who work hard. I’m an everyman.

I went from everyman at his lowest point to dining at the Ritz. The champagne is divine, by the way.

My plans that will ensure our enemies, anyone who stands in the way of The Great Way, will know.

Things will change. I won’t lie. Things will get tough. But through the tough and the rough, we’ll rise. Victorious.

The rest will follow. Or suffer. Anti-patriotism will not be tolerated. Freedom of speech?

True freedom is what we’re talking about. When dissent is outdated, and patriotism is no longer a dirty word.

They’ll jump when I say jump. Shout and shoot down liberals who'd have us lick the tait of our lesser.

I want our country the focal point of the world. Our military triumphs, our cultural dominance.

Peace to the Middle East. Europe. Peace in our time.

It won’t be without sacrifice. Everything good comes at a cost. It’ll take time and effort. We can do it. I believe.

What happened to the world? Apologetic, afraid to make omelettes and break glass.

Nothing compared to what’ll happen when I win this election.

The sea of people saluting their commander, their chief.

Their saviour.

And the world watching, holding its breath for what comes next."

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Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: For Sarah Parker's Election Day: Unofficial Challenge. 600 words exactly.

Here are some other things: