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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 6 (v.1) - Rob Gordon 2020

Submitted: June 04, 2017

Reads: 52

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Submitted: June 04, 2017



Days later, behind the scenes of an outdoor stage rally for presidential candidate Rob Gordon, Schneider, adorning a Rob Gordon campaign shirt, is speaking on her cell phone: "Jacob, Gordon's on in a few minutes, we could be missing the chance to whack him for the next few hours or days it could be. Have you seen him?"

Jacob is working Rob Gordon's merchandising stand wearing a t-shirt with Gordon's face plastered all over the front.

"No, I've been stuck at this stand all day selling Gordon's disgusting propaganda to America's unbelievers. Though, I may have heard his manager speaking about some heated discussions with the crew above the stage." says Jacob over the stand's telephone.

"I'll check it out then."

"I'll join you if I can." he says before ending the call.

Above the stage, the crew is at work for the rally.

"What the hell's wrong with the stage lights?" asks the crew member in charge.

"Well, I thought the new LEDs would work." says the stage lights manager.

"Well they don't. Switch them back with the old ones. What about those audio problems the reporters had earlier when we tested their mics?"

"Gordon doesn't want them here, they might write down something he said and defame him." answers one of the crew members.

But Rob Gordon comes knocking at the upper stage access door: "Hey, dumbasses, the stage lights aren't working."

The crew, noticing it's Gordon, remain very quiet.

"I swear, after that last lighting test, it's as if you idiots don't even try to emasculate my commanding complexion, which is the best of any of the candidates I should say, believe me. Might I add that none of these losers I'm competing against have even tried outdoing me in that department, I'm so good."

The silence thus continues. The main crew member looks as if he has had enough, he is tired of this buffoon. He leaves out the alternate exit and his fellow workers follow.

"Fine, I'm coming in myself." Rob Gordon states.

A jingling of keys follow before the door opens. Rob Gordon walks half the way across the walkway.

"Great, gone, huge crowd and they're not even here. At least the background paintings have been finished." Rob Gordon says.

He turns to glance in admiration at the paintings hanging as a background to the stage that portray US fighter planes manned by the brave, courageous white knights of the US Army bombing hordes of degenerative, uncivilized Muslim barbarians below.

Schneider, having managed to sneak onto the upper stage behind Gordon, has already pulled off a sandbag from a fly system. She smacks Gordon with the sandbag and he is sent back, hitting his head on the railing. She tries tying up some loose rope into a noose when he gets back up. She whacks him again, the sand now leaking from the bag, and she puts the noose around his neck and tightens it. He gives off a weak wail, clawing at his neck, and is slowly choked to death but not before he falls over the railing as he frantically tries taking off the rope. She grabs the rope and catches him as he falls downwards to the centre-stage.


"Where is Gordon?" the manager asks.

"I don't know." the assistant replies.

"Damn it. Go look for his running mate or someone to give a speech. Open the curtains too so they think we're starting." the manager barks out.

The curtains are opened as she barely holds onto the body, but it is high enough up that it remains hidden from the crowd. As he is about to slip from her grip, another set of hands grabs onto the rope to prop up the fat man from falling. It is Jacob. But, they can't pull him back over the railing.

"We cannot hold him much longer, suggestions?" Jacob asks.

Schneider looks at the anti-Muslim paintings, along with the scissors, paint, canvases and glue used to make them laying around the upper stage walkway, along with many other building supplies.

"We make a prayer that my idea will work. Now, hold on tight, I need a free hand for this." she says.

Gordon is dropped down to the stage, the noose still around his neck, but his skin is all painted brown to make it look like he is Arab. A lot of his hair, now painted black, was cut off so it could be glued onto his face as a beard. She even managed to cut out, glue together and paint a paper kufi for Gordon out of the canvas material. This image of a hanged Muslim sends Rob Gordon's crowd into cheers.

"Take that, you overused piñata for bad political jokes." mutters Schneider to Gordon's corpse.

Moments later, Schneider and Jacob are running away from the stage, into the distance, before stopping when they become assured of their safety.

"That plan went off almost without a hitch." Schneider says.

"So did the backup plan." Jacob adds.

"What backup plan?"

"Destroying his merchandise in case we failed and had to cut and run."

A warm orange light shines on their backs and on the ground in front of them, so they turn around to look at where it is coming from.

"How exactly did you destroy the merchandise, Jacob?"

"Setting the stand alight, luckily it looks like it has spread to the stage as well, maybe even to the crowd and crew if we are lucky."

"In that case, we really, really need to start running."

© Copyright 2018 A.J. Rimmer. All rights reserved.


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