Pandemonium | Dream SMP

22. Well...that was pretty easy.

Like cats presented with a bell, all eyes snap to the letter clutched tightly between Wilbur's fingers. He holds it like it's made of glass. As if it could shatter in his hands at the slightest increase of pressure. I can only imagine the weight on his shoulders as he approaches the microphone at the front of the stage, clearing his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen. My fellow L'Manburgian's. Thank you all for coming today, to watch a historic moment; the passing over of the presidency for the first election of L'Manburg."

A polite chorus of claps and even a few whistles ring out from the crowd. I hear Tubbo's cheer over the crowd in particular. His bright eyes and eager voice are difficult to miss.

Once the noise settles down, Wilbur continues. "I have with me the election results of the four parties. The winners and by what percentage."

Swallowing thickly, I pull my trident close to my chest, practically hugging it. This is it. The moment I've been waiting for. Finally, I can learn if Schlatt's efforts have cone to fruition, or if it was all just a pipe dream. A wish too far from our reach.

The silence is deafening as Wilbur slips open the envelope, all eyes on him as he withdraws the folded letter within. He glances back at us one final time. His gaze lands on Schlatt in particular, stood beside Quackity, and something I can't describe flits across his face. Worry? Regret? Defeat? I really can't tell. Whatever it is it makes his tired face look even more exhausted, and he turns back to read the letter's contents aloud.

"With nine percent of the vote, in fourth place is...COCONUT2020."

Polite clapping. Fundy and Niki wave to the crowd in thanks before turning to give each other a hug. I wish I were over there hugging them, too. I feel sorry for them, after all the work they put into their campaign. The many trays of cookies Niki must have baked. Yet despite that, they're still smiling, and keep an arm around each other as they wait for Wilbur to read out third place.

"With sixteen percent of the vote, coming in third place, is SCHLATT2020."

I go rigid, my mind going blank.

...what?

That can't be right.

Schlatt...Schlatt is meant to win. He told me he would. He said he had a plan.

I snap my gaze to the horned man, seeking out any form of explanation. Of reassurance that things are still going to plan.

He's smiling to himself. No, more like smirking as he fixes a cuff on his sleeve. He's perfectly calm. Too calm for a man who just lost the election, the white house, and the rights to stay on this land.

He catches my stare and must see the question in my eyes.

In response he tilts his head to the side and tugs at his red tie, straightening it. He flashes me a smile and a wink.

My eyes flutter closed in relief. I take a deep breath and release it. So this is part of the plan. It would have been nice if he'd told me ahead of time. For a moment there I thought we'd actually just lost the election. But then that just leaves the question of how is Schlatt going to turn this around?

Voice hollow, Wilbur reads out the final few sentences of the results. "In second place with thirty percent of the vote, lead by the party leader Quackity...is SWAG2020. Meaning the winner by popular vote of forty-five percent is POG2020."

I about jump out of my skin at the roar of cheers that erupt from every direction. Many of the audience are on their feet celebrating, hugging the person closest to them, patting each other on the back. All POG2020 supporters.