Cicada3300
so its slightly in the future Earth and the first Chinese American has been elected president. Its about halfway through his first term and he is in love with the resolute desk and its history . He is a bi sex addict that is married but loves to cheat , he likes men more tham women for the thrill of dominance. He has sent his secretary away so he can be alone with the resolute desk before seeing his late mid day guest . They are slowly undressing when a a banging starts at the newish security door to the oval office he checks his phone and its been blowing up... something big is happening... dunt duh du.... lemme know
Cicada3300
@Cicada3300 autifully carved exterior as they played at his feet. For President Chang, it was the purpose for the whole room and in a way had a voice of its own. Sometimes wishing it would speak aloud. Oh, the stories they would share. The fact was it had been a character in almost every State of the Union address back to time immemorial. Thank God for Jimmy Carter bringing it back and glad that none of Nixon’s toxic smarm had ever defiled it. The idea of a simple Chinaman from a poor family now sitting behind it had him imagining those men as well as its benefactor Queen Victoria “rolling in their graves.” He wished out loud that the outside world would just go away and leave them be. There was enough to worry about already for Christ’s sake. Slowly, he shambled over to the tall mirror, adjusted the stiff collar on an uncomfortable starched shirt, fixed his tie, checked the golden cufflinks, made sure his thinning hairs were straight, smiled, and walked calmly and coolly over to the vibrating door. Putting an ear against the door first to see what could be heard in between the outburst of different poundings. Despite the thickness of the reinforced synthetic door, a little could actually be heard. Thoughts of excuses surfaced. He was startled and it reminded him of a childhood with no privacy. He stilled himself, reminding his inner child who he was now. Focusing on the door, actually hating it and all that it represented. It had been carefully reinstalled years after the rough era of the Conservative Party's quasi-fascist rule. A time in which riots ran rampant and this once sacred office had been ransacked by zealots more than once. Of course, not much of anything could be heard, at least nothing useful.
Cicada3300
President Chang had always considered himself to be a fair man. The top of his class, the pride of his family. Always making his aunties proud. He played piano and sang "Despacito" for Christ’s sake. Earlier, a flourished wave of the hand dismissed the White House secretary’s attempts to reach him. Grown tired of the rigid schedules and constant oversight, opting instead for a more isolated approach. “Just take a break,” said the message, wanting a break himself and feeling it was well earned. Just another chance to get away from the ceaseless demands and bureaucratic constraints that needlessly wore them down.
No one else could be blamed for the fact that the office was now about to erupt into chaos— Choices were made to ignore centuries of protocol. Almost comically leaving the staff scrambling without direction. Their inevitable ineptitude and complacency further highlighted the dramatic nature of the unprecedented scene. No amount of training could have prepared them for what was about to occur.
This version of the Oval office was meticulously organized. Every artifact in exactly the right place on the “resolute desk,” just where everyone liked it. Not a single speck of dust could be found. The desk, wonderful and ancient, was something he jubilantly and not so secretly loved. More than enjoying any time spent alone with it.
Hours were spent stroking its magnificent contours, imagining the greatness of the men who had surely once done the same. The act bolstered him at needed times with a sense of pride and responsibility. Surpassing those men in every measurable metric was a wondrous and challenging goal.
He paused, looking into a distorted reflection in its top. Taking family advice, it was brought up to a polished mirror-like perfection.
