"Malcolm in the Middle: The Next Gen..."
Summary: Eighteen years after high school graduation, the lives of child genius and well-meaning brat Malcolm Wilkerson and his family are rather different yet surprisingly familiar.
Part VIII...
"That #@$*!! Wilkerson!" from the lips of the likely not long to remain Speaker of the US House, currently on the colossal videoscreen of Colonel Harlan D. Sanders, III (oh, yes, when you own the Kentucky state legislature, you do receive a Kentucky Colonelship by hereditary right) in his home office.
"Yes, yes, son. I understand your feelings. A mighty fine pity, indeed."
Dolt. Why do I pay off these people?
"Though I do recollect you did seem rather guilty, on all counts."
"Damn lies...And Fox agrees with me!" the frustrated features of the angry Speaker's face filling the screen.
Well, more spirit than the boy's ever shown to date, at least, Sanders reflected.
"Yes, I imagine they would." Nod.
"Yeah."
Wait, was he being funny? "Sanders were you being funny, there?"
The Colonel offering a Buddha-like non-comital smile.
"Now my friend...It's a tough break but thems what you must bear in reaching your goals. A lesson my daddy taught me and my grandpappy taught him."
Actually a load of huey but the boy's going down the drain and does me no good to kick him in yet...Yet. Plenty of time to enjoy his sh—storm later.
"But I am sure we can weather this storm, together, son." Beatific smile.
"Well, it's good to know you'll stand by me, Colonel." The Speaker noted.
Stand by to shove you into the pit, son? Certainly, loser.
"But before we take up the cudgels in your defense...And win." Right... "I could do with a bit of assist from you and your offices..." Before they drag you out of them in handcuffs or a body bag. I do hear tell suicide...Or rightly, "Suicide"... Is rather common in these cases.
"What assist, Colonel? I'm in the fight of my life here...Worse than when I became Speaker."
Oh, son...It isn't even a fight, now.
"Yes, indeed, son. And to be able to help you in this fight, to the full extent of my powers, I need to have my hands untied, as it were. Free up my legal boys so they can concentrate on your situation."
Right...Like I'm inclined to throw good money after the sodden, rotted mess of you and your career...
"Ok, what do you need from me?"
"A minor favor, son...I want you to launch an investigation of that Gus Fringe and his 'Greasey Khicken" cartel. The man's a menace with ties to unsavory types, including furreners."
"Colonel, we've discussed this before. I don't control the DOJ and our people in the House can't appear to act in your favor."
Appear? Shoot, son. After what I've paid into your party coffers to keep you boys in business despite demographics? Hell, Koch is a piker compared to me. But I understand the concept of "plausible deniability" as well as you boys in DC.
"Naturally, son, naturally. And we wouldn't have it any other way." Warm smile. "But, surely a menace by a furren son of a furren bitch to this great nation's health is beyond any partisan concerns."
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Malcolm in the Middle: The Next Gen.
FanfictionEighteen years after high school graduation, the lives of child genius and well-meaning brat Malcolm Wilkerson and his family are rather different yet surprisingly familiar.
