Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Mission Monitor Board Nihilection Headquarters

<Ex is apoplectic, fuming at his campaign team>


Ex: I told you not to use that publicity photo! I look ridiculous... like some sort of bad Photoshop hack-work!

Dewey: Sorry, X.N., it was a mistake down in printing... they got the wrong reference...

Ex: I ought to fire you all!

Cheatham: We've got bigger fish to fry now, X.N., the press is going wild. They claim you've made a campaign promise you can't make good on.

Ex: What?! That's what politicians do, you moron!

Howe: Yes... but not when they name their running mate. How in the world are we supposed to get The Election Tyrant to agree to this? He's in charge of the process... I don't even know if it's possible that he can be a candidate.

Ex: Oh... if the price is right... I'm pretty sure anything is possible. Ms. Jath?


<Ex's secretary hands him the plans>


Ex: You see... I've been doing a little research. It seems that when an election gets into the deep weeds, there is one thing that can draw the Tyrant into the mix. It last happened during the 2000 election on planet earth. Call it "Election Tyrant" bait.

Dewey <looking over Ex's shoulder>: "Hanging Chads"? What in the world is that?

Ex: I'm not entirely sure - historical records from that period are spotty at best - but I think we can make do. Cheatham?

Cheatham: Yes, X.N.?

Ex: You get down to the volunteer center. Howe?

Howe: Yes?

Ex: You head to the Space Depot... we'll need a metal bar, a few 2x4's and as much rope as you can get. Dewey?

Dewey: Yes?

Ex: You're fired for the photo.





Later...


Ex <calling up>: You OK up there, Chad?

Chad <tied by his hands to a metal bar>: My arms are getting tired, sir.

Ex: Bah! Don't worry about that, son, they'll go numb soon enough.

Chad: Couldn't I just work at the phone bank?

Ex: Nonsense, son! You're performing a valuable service for your planet.

<rubbing his hands together and speaking to himself> If this doesn't draw out the Election Tyrant... nothing will!

I see that you are trying to be more inclusive by having a woman taking notes. You sit under a vast umbrela, sir!

It only looks like she is taking notes. She is actually writing down her commands, which must be obeyed!

THAT'S THORA!!!!!

Turns out the old dude in the glasses was a Nazi sympathizer!

(Though the level of detail is outstanding, Ex! That's a pic of Lardy, right? )

<Ex leans back in his chair and lights a Carggite trigar. He puffs a few times then letting his exhalation slowly blend into a grin, spins his chair around to face his campaign team>


Ex: What did I tell you, boys? Easy as pie. The Tyrant is in!

Cheatham: I'm not sure how you did it X.N., but the press is going crazy! I say we strike while the iron is hot and brand this thing. I was thinking, "Ex and Elex - a Team for the Next (Year, that is)!"

Ex: That is absolutely horrible. I should fire you right now. Ms. Jath, take a note... the next foolish thing Cheatham says, he's to be fired.

Ms Jath <continuing to doodle a caricature of Exnihil with an arrow through his head>: Mmm hmm... got it, X.N.

Howe: So what is our next step, X.N.? How do we spin this monster in our favor?

Ex: Well, step 1 is complete - Enlist the Election Tyrant. Now... step 3... <Ex's eyes slightly glaze over>... Profit!

Cheatham: W... wait... what about step 2?

Ex: That's it! Cheatham, you're fired!

Chad <calling down from his still tied-up position>: Sir? Sir, can I get down now?

Ex: What? No! Am I the only one with vision around here? The Election Tyrant is a capricious bedfellow. One wrong move and this whole house of cards comes tumbling down! He's like the Great Pumpkin!

Chad: Could I at least get a drink of water?

Ex: No! And, for the love of Mike, could you at least try to look a little more sincere?

<Ex slams down the morning holo-news on his desk and turns around to face the remainder of his campaign team>


Ex: Have you read this, Howe?! Have you seen what they're saying?

Howe: Come on, X.N., it's not that bad... the polls are still showing that...

Ex: Polls!? For the love of Mike, Howe! Don't you know that the LW polling system is owned by Exnihil Productions? We put those numbers out ourselves. It's this <slapping the holo> that actually reflects public opinion!

Ms. Jath <picking up the holo and reading aloud> : "Not since the days of Tammany Hall, nearly 1100 years ago, has politics produced the degree of corruption as seen in the Nihil campaign. With the addition of The Election Tyrant to the ticket, this nearly cements the fact that the 'candidate' Exnihil is nothing more than an bottom feeding opportunist who..."

Ex <interrupting> : "Bottom feeding"! Do you hear that, Howe?! They're comparing me to Shark Lad now! I thought getting rid of Dewey and Cheatham would make this team a more leaner and focused campaign, but you're not showing me anything here. You are skating on some thin ice, Howe... one more setback... just one more... and you are...


<before Ex can finish his thought, the door to the Campaign Headquarters is blown off the hinges as a strange being enters>

<pointing accusingly at Exnihil>

You!

For nearly ten millennia, the time-honored traditions of the Electors of the Universe have stood as the paragon of all electoral processes across the vast reaches of space. Our ranks have overseen more elections than stars that may be numbered in the night sky.

Never... in the course of all electoral history... has one dared to enlist an Elector himself as a candidate... until now!

We know not what temptation you have laid out before him, but this may not stand. Even as we speak, in the highest echelons of our hallowed halls, my Electoral Brethren debate the fate of our errant brother.

I have broken my nearly 5000 year long vow of silence and travelled to your world to meet with the one who has violated our protocol. You will cease your insignificant prattling immediately and direct me to your running mate.

We would have words with The Election Tyrant.

<Ex's mouth stands agape, as his fallen Carggite trigar slowly burns a mark on his desk>


Ex: H... H... Howe...?

Howe: I'll show myself out.

wouldja look at that? Someone has donated 100 unwrapped Cadbury eggs to the campaign.

Oh, there's a note!

"Must eat within 24 hours or the full wrath of the Electors of the Universe will be brought down on the one called Exnihil."

Gotta admit, they've got quite a sense of humor...

Not sure if I should be insulted by this or not...

What... you're not a Angel Shark? I'm sorry, then... all you Selachimorphs look the same.

She's actually the power behind the throne. Wanna bet Ex is being mind-controlled?

<Ex, momentarily taken aback by The Anarchon's arrival, quickly regains his composure. He grabs his fallen trigar and clutches it again between his teeth.

No alien bureaucrat is going to march into his election headquaters and start calling the shots>


Electtion Tyrant?

Sorry, bub... never heard of the fellow. I don't know what cheap gossip rags you've been reading, but this campaign is on the up and up. My running mate is a pillar of the community, no tyranny involved at all. His name is... uh...


<trying to think of a well respected Legion Worlder>


...uh... I mean, her name is... Shadowplay in Candlelight. Yeah, that's right... me and Shady are taking this thing all the way. Completely above board.

So... if there's nothing else... thanks for stopping by and - remember - vote Ex and Sh...


<suddenly Ex's Omnicom bursts to life>


Heh... well, crap.

Yes... very good, Mr. Nihil.

I would do well to remind you, as you continue your "campaign", that lies are not befitting of a politician.

If I had a greater window of time at my disposal we could engage in a lengthy discussion of the other procedural mistakes you've made thus far - in this room alone, I count at least 27 distinct protocol violations - but, alas, I have more pressing matters at this time.

I bid you good day, and take my leave in search of the other party to this nonsense.

<The Anarchon departs>

I kinda like protocol violations - but that woman looks like a young Maggie Thatcher. Time travelling politicos? Scary!