Head of the Gang

”Photosynthesis.” He replies.

Nodding as if I understood his answer about how he receives nutrients. I have so many questions. “I see. What about breathing and consuming water?”

Smiling he replies. “My tongue absorbs water like a sponge, as for breathing.“ I watch in fascination as he turns his head to show me gill like protrusions behind each ear.

“Fascinating.” I truthfully reply. “Was it painful?”

His expression becomes puzzled mixed with annoyance. “You mean having my head separated from my body?”

Instantly I regret my question but continue. “Well, I’m sure it was, what I meant, was the recovery painful?”

With raised eyebrows his voice becomes firm, and I understood why people fear this man. “Look, I allowed an interview and chose you because of your article on the misappropriation of funds in your university. Because of that we were able to let many useless people go. I would prefer to be asked questions with substance and not like a failed daytime talk show host. Now ask or this interview is over.”

I needed that push, chastising myself for not being myself. Taking a deep breath, I ask. “In your current condition do you feel that you are still capable of running a country?”

The look he gave was practiced from years of answering questions he felt were intolerable and below him. I swear I saw his gills flare.

”Look, I’m the only one who can run this country. They took my body, not my brain, which is probably the finest brain. The doctors all say I have a beautiful brain, better than most.”

I push on. ”Clearly there are those who feel you are no longer the person for this position, even before the assassination attempt. Which begs another question.”

With pouting lips, he raised an eyebrow. “What question is that?”

“The men and women who died protecting you, their families have not received benefits, and their pensions are being withheld.”

”Well of course, I was left with no choice. I mean they were pathetic at their job. They failed to do what they were paid for. One job, protect me. Would you pay a useless employee who sucked at their job. No, you‘d fire them.”

”Sir, with all due respect…”

”FIRED!”

Realizing that Question was dead, I tried another approach. “Do you fear other countries not taking you serious, now that your abilities are limited?”

”I have no limitations, in fact people come to me daily expressing their gratitude that I’m still in charge. Sir, they say, with tears in their eyes. Sir, God must look upon you as he did his only son.”

”Well, if I remember the story correctly, God actually let his only son die, you didn’t die.”

”There you have it, he loves me more. I didn’t say it you did.”

”What?”

”Look, I have plans, big plans to build us up again. In fact, probably greater than before. Already people say this is the best we have ever been.“

”Are you able to share these plans with us today, let us know what to expect?”

”Not yet, but soon you will see.”

”How soon?”

”Very.”

”Are you able to give us a rough timeline.”

”Two weeks, a month at the most.”

Inwardly I laugh, knowing this has been the exact same response he has about so many ideas. Health and medical, jobs, price of eggs. Outwardly I nod and say I look forward to seeing it …soon.

"You're wondering about my performance with my wife?

"Ah...No, that wasn't on my mind."

"Well the first lady is satisfied, I am more than capable."

"Good for you sir, but honestly that wasn't a question."

"It's a blessing, really. People ask me, and they are amazed at..."

"Sir I believe we have gotten off topic."

" I could tell you stories...there was this one time...."

He rambles for the remainder of my allotted time, then a team wheels his cranium out of the room. I watch and debate on how to proceed. This is the third time I have returned to talk to him after the assassination attempts. . The one constant is he always survives, albiet with different results.

I must admit this one is the best scenario so far. I can go back to my timeline, leaving him as a talking head. But the organization who‘s hired me expects results, therefore I‘ll help them ‘tweak’ their attempt, this time without anyone else being harmed. Were getting close.

I’m thinking of an exploding golf ball. Lord knows we’ll have a lot of opportunities. Perhaps a poison in his diet cola that melts his tongue, now that is an interesting thought.

That may work.

Thank you,

Jason

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This is for an unofficial challenge: