Me, Myself and Minions

Chapter 7

So, I had the real president locked up in my underground lair. No biggie.

And I was now to become the newly said president of the united states.

Again, no biggie.

But taking on this responsibility was much more than what my twelve-year-old mind could comprehend.

I wasn't just chasing away kids from my presence. I WAS the BIG GUY now. I was the one in charge of this beautiful country... soon to be a dictatorship if I was to have my own way.

And I would have my own way, hoo hoo! You can count on that.

My first day in office was.. not what I expected.

A lot of publicity, cameras flashing their bright lights at me as I stood at the stand, waving and smiling to the video cameras that would spread my image across the whole USA.

"Gru! Gru! Do you think you'll be able to fill the shoes of the past president?"

"Not likely," I mused and lifted a foot up to show my black laced shoes, "His feet are much bigger than mine – AND more flabby!"

There was no uproarious laughter that I expected, instead only crickets.

"But do you think he will be found!?" Another woman reporter called out to me, holding her mic as far up my direction as possible.

"Ha! Not likely!"

The whole room gasped and I quickly looked over to two of my minions, standing there and giving me the cue to be less obvious with my words.

"I-I mean..." I went on quickly, tapping the microphone awkwardly before stumbling out the words, "I truly hope so, I really truly do."

"Aww!" The crowd cooed and I only nodded my head, pretending to do a cross sign on my shoulders and head. But inside I was delighted to no end.

I had everything going my way, and everyone here was so stupid to see what was right before them, I truly SHOULD be president for their idiocy alone.

I nodded a few times, took a few more questions before I swiped my scarf over my shoulder, and turned to leave, walking into the white house.

As I sat in the oval office, my minions were well at play as they brought in buckets of black paint, piling them up in the corner of the room.

My assistant looked utterly puzzled and nervously tapped me on the shoulder as he asked the timid question.

"What are your little friends doing...?"

"Oh, they are just repainting the white house to a color I prefer."

The shocked timid man's mouth dropped open and he burst out the words in disbelief, "But, WHY?"

"Because." I said simply back, "I'M the PRESIDENT."

"O-oh, yes..." He uttered and took a step back awkwardly before looking at my little yellow men go to work.

As my minions opened the paint up and dipped their huge brushes into the thick black liquid, I could hear knocking on the door, and I rolled my eyes, muttering out.

"Who ever it is... I'm busy."

"But it's your four-thirty interview with ABC?"

"I already know the alphabet."

"Er, no, Mr. President..." My assistant said to me with quite a lot of concern, "They're a new's channel,"

"Urf! Alright!" I replied back harshly and I was led away with them to a room with lighting and shadows, and two chairs each for us both to sit in.