The President

The White House, sometime in the future...

The freshman senator had been called in by the President to explain why he wouldn't back the new bill. As the senator made his way through security and headed into the oval office, he was feeling a little full of himself. He had made himself powerful enough in the Senate to have the President need to meet with him in private. Although one of the youngest senators, he had learned how to play the game very early on, and knew that if he held out long enough, he would get promises of future backing on his own pet projects. All he had to do was get the timing right.

When the senator stepped into the oval office, the President was already seated at his desk. No one else was in the room. The senator had never been here alone with the President, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe in this historic office. The President stood up and welcomed him, and put his hand out to shake. They shook hands, and the senator began to sense why this man had been elected to office. He had an aura of confidence and power about him, and his handshake was firm and strong...almost painful. The senator took a seat across from the President, who got right to the business at hand.

"Tell me, senator," he said, "why is it that you fight me on nearly every measure I want to see passed?"

The senator squirmed a little bit in his chair ; he had expected a little more small talk before they got down to it.

"Well, Sir," he answered, "I have my constituents to think about on these matters."

"Cut the crap, dickhead," said the President. "I know what you're up to, and don't think for a second that you're going to get away with it." The President picked up his phone and called his secretary. "Connie," he said, "hold all my calls. And, no matter what you hear in the next few minutes, don't let anyone come into my office." Then he hung up.

That was a weird thing to add, thought the senator, becoming increasingly unsure of what to expect. The President stood up and stepped around his desk. He moved so aggressively that the senator flinched back in his chair, his heart beginning to pound hard in his chest. The President got right in his face.

"You're going to change your vote on this bill, boy, and let me show you why." With that, the President grabbed the younger man by his shirt front and lifted him right out of his chair. The senator's feet were dangling, and the President shook him like a misbehaving child. "I'm sick of pissing around with shitheads like you, punk," said the President. Then he pushed back and sent the senator flying across the room, slamming high into the far wall, hitting it so hard that three pictures fell off the wall and shattered onto the floor. The senator slid down the wall and hit the ground with a thump. He was stunned beyond words. The President took off his suitcoat and tossed it aside, then he walked over to the stunned senator.

"Ya see, boy, our government scientists have been cooking up a way to increase our soldiers' strength and stamina. When they finally came up with something, I made them try it out on me first. They didn't want to do it at first, but it's funny what the threat of a research job in Somalia can do to persuade a person." The President began to unbutton his dress shirt. "The way I figured it, everyone always calling me the most powerful man on earth, then why shouldn't I be? They started loading me up on their little cocktail about two months ago, and check out the results." The President took off his shirt. The senator let out a small gasp. Except for the graying chest hair, the President had the shredded physique of a middleweight pro bodybuilder. "The bodyfat was the first thing to go," he said, flexing."Down to 2 percent now, they say that's pretty low." The senator's mouth gaped open as he watched every muscle fiber on the President's torso fire off and ripple. The ridges in his abs were an inch deep. "And check this out," he said. He laid one hand on top of a black leather wingback chair. He gripped it hard, then lifted it, straight-armed, off of the ground. "Light as a feather," he said, as he used his thumb strength to swing the chair out horizontally. His forearms and biceps were corded with steel hard muscle. He held it there steady for about 30 seconds, then he took the chair in both hands and began to tear it apart. He snapped off both of the 'wings', then the back, then he used one hand to snap off all four legs. He tossed the busted up pieces into pile. "Never did like that chair," he said. Although it didn't seem to take much effort to destroy the chair, it had made the veins stand out all over his body. They snaked up and down his arms and across his chest, and continued to swell as he looked down on the senator.

"Now, get up," the President said to him. "You like fighting me every inch of the way on the Senate floor, now it's time to fight man to man, cowboy." The President stepped back and motioned with his hands for the senator to come at him. The senator was in a panic. He looked over at the door of the oval office. "If any one of your fingers touches that doorknob," said the President, "I'll break every bone in your hand."

The senator didn't know what to do. Clearly, the President had gone mad...literally mad with power. There was no way he could fight this man. He looked up at the powerful torso, undulating with rippling muscle and strength. Jacked up harder and stronger than any pro baseball player ever. The President chuckled at the senator.

"Here, boy," he said, "let's even it up a little." He reached down and picked up one of the broken chair legs. He tossed it to the senator. "Use that, and I'll let you have the first shot."

The senator felt the leg in his hand. It was heavy. Mahoghany. The weight of it in his hand gave him courage. He stood up. The President stuck his chin out and tapped on it, then put his hands behind his back. The senator took a cautious step toward him. Sensing that he only had one way out of this, he swung the chair leg at the President's chin, and clocked him square in the jaw. The President's head turned, but not much. He looked back at the senator, smiling. "Do it again. Harder," he said. The senator almost pissed himself. That blow should have busted his jaw. Instead, it had just made his neck muscles tighten, making them look like a bundle of steel cables. The senator swung and hit him again, harder. This time the President's head didn't even budge. Instead, the chair leg broke on his jaw. The President scoffed. He grabbed the senator's belt with one hand, and lifted him straight up.

"You know what, boy?" he said. "This ain't all that much of a challenge. A month ago, I was already taking on the strongest Secret Service agent they could send me. He was a helluva lot bigger than me, but I still worked him over like he was a schoolboy. Now, I take on two at a time. I make them come at me with all their training, every self-defense move they know. And I knock them around the room like kittens. I toy with them. I wear them down, then make them get up and come at me again. I work them til they're too exhausted to stand, til they are soaked through in their own sweat, and begging me to stop. Shit, I could take on six of them now. In fact, that's just what I feel like doing." He lowered the senator back to the floor. "And what you're going to do, is go back, and vote for that bill I want passed. Cause if ya don't, I'll come to your office, and make what just happened here look like a picnic. You get me?"

"Yesssir," said the disheveled senator. He pulled himself together as much as he could, and left the oval office. The President strutted to his desk and picked up his phone.

"Connie," he said, "is that scientist fellow here yet?....Good, send him in." The President crunched his arms into a most muscular, and accidentally crushed the receiver with his bare hand.

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