The Greatest Inside Joke Ever Told: 2059 Political RP [IC]

[Vienna Eliot]

The Greatest Inside Joke Ever Told
A 2059 Political Roleplay

Friday, January 3rd
Washington's Tomb | 196 Feet Beneath the U.S. Capitol

---

There had been rumors from the North for months. None of us believed it, until one night we started to kill our Congressmen too.

The lights flickered on and, through the walls, the sharp screech of the Senate's subway could be heard rattling toward the North side of the Capitol. The fluorescent light hit the concrete walls harshly. Leopold spoke up first.

"I don't think anyone's been in here for months," he said.

Loeb shot back. "I don't think anyone's been in here for decades. Do you have the evidence?"

"The evidence?" Leopold asked, scrunching up his face. "What kind of evidence do you need?"

"You think they're going to report this, Leo? Do you know how much is at stake? The House is tied now. They're not going to have another election for months. Fuckers are going to be clamoring to be Speaker, even for a hot minute. You know it's 2059? You know the next Speaker's a shoe-in to be President of the United States? Yeah, the whips are gonna keep mouths fuckin' tight on this one till the end of the day. I'll bet you they don't even say what killed her."

"Alright, alright. Well take my word for it. She's dead."

"Better be."

Two hours earlier
Second Floor Bathroom | Ocasio-Cortez House Office Building

---

"Good morning, Congresswoman. There's not enough room in the chamber for you. I'll tell them you were a hero."

---

FROM: Chairman Kevin Anderson
TO: House Republican Caucus
SUBJECT: [URGENT] Meeting pushed earlier

Dear Members,

We will be meeting as a caucus at 9:00 AM, one hour earlier than originally planned. Some new business is expected to come up that will need to be covered. The agenda is now as follows:

—Welcome, greeting, pledge, prayer
—Discussion of recent events
—Officer elections, except Leader and Assistant Leader
—Hour recess
—Leader and Assistant Leader elections
—Adjourn

Please do not email or text me about this. Thank you.

KA

FROM: Office of the Democratic Whip, Jack Clair (FL)
TO: House Democratic Caucus
SUBJECT: New Meeting Time

Hi folks,

A member of our Caucus will not be present today — this will be explained at our meeting today, now at 9am. We are still going ahead with the nomination of Leader Smathers and myself to continue to be Leader and Assistant Leader. Please reach out if you have any concerns about our candidacies — it is important, now more than ever, that we be united as a party.

Best,
Jack Clair
________
United States Representative
Florida's 30th Congressional District
Assistant Leader, House Democratic Caucus
jack.clair@mail.house.gov

[The Miaphysite Church of Coptic Archism]

1129 New Hampshire Avenue, NW, Washington DC
7:00 AM

Marley Webster was roused by the aggressive blaring of her alarm clock. She sighed and buried her head in her pillow for a few moments, collecting her strength, before dragging herself out of bed and shutting off the alarm. She opened her small dresser and grabbed a set of clothing. Inspecting them, she dropped the shirt and dug out a different one which was more plain. She laid out the clothes on her single bed, and left the bedroom of her apartment, walking directly into her living room/dining room/kitchen. Taking one step along the wall, she reached the door to her bathroom.

As she performed her morning routine, Marley was rueful of the fact that half a century earlier the Casey Mansion, the planned official residence of the Mayor of the District of Columbia, was scrapped a short while into it's construction. She would have felt some guilt over living in such circumstances at taxpayer expense, of course, but no rent was no rent. For the time being at least, the Mayor of DC was resigned to her three-room apartment, the same one she had lived in since beginning her study at Georgetown.

After showering, inhaling a bowl of cereal, brushing her teeth, and getting dressed, Marley unfolded her smart screen, sitting down in the one chair she owned. She flicked through pages quickly, checking the time (7:32), the news (not much since last night), and several social media accounts. Her parents had sent her a message on Facebook, she made a mental note to check it later. She tried to log in to Twitter, but it was having server issues. She furrowed her brow in frustration, moving on. Ever since CIC International bought out the platform it had experienced a number of problems.

More or less satisfied, she folded up her screen and pocketed it, then stood and wandered through her apartment to find her keys. She then finally left for the day, locking her apartment and setting off walking to the Wilson building.

---

1350 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW, Washington DC
8:10 AM

Marley approached the John A. Wilson Building, the nexus point for the District's government. It was, by all accounts, a hideous building. After the 2039 fire, renovations to the blackened facade had been done in a completely different modernist style, and they jutted out of the old building unnaturally. Surely someone must have approved of the contrasting styles for it to be built, but Marley's sense of aesthetics was not pleased by the sight. She was subtly amused, however, when she thought of how accurately the building represented the district. Crumbling centuries old structures, which rather than being torn down and build anew were barely supported by dizzying modern compromises.

Earlier in the week, Marley had taken part in a small swearing in ceremony and met with the previous mayor in private, but today would be her first normal day at work as the Mayor of the District of Columbia. Several local reporters were present outside the building, ready with questions for the third party mayor. Any other day the building would be swarmed if a Socialist was assuming the office of Mayor, but with the results of the midterms, today was also slated to be the day Democrats took the House, which Marley took as a blessing. She smiled and waved to the cameras, and answered a few unimportant questions as she walked to the door.

On entering, a secretary stood up and extended her hand, saying "Miss Mayor, I'll show you the way to your office." Marley shook her hand and smiled, letting her lead the way. "Marley is fine, by the way. I didn't catch your name?" The secretary gave a friendly look and said "Ellie." The two quietly engaged in small talk until they reached the Mayor's office. As Ellie turned to leave, Marley asked her "Would you please arrange a meeting with Leader Smathers when it's possible, some time after I meet with the Council?" Ellie nodded before continuing back towards her desk.

Marley entered her new office and sat down for the first time behind the mayoral desk. She had to admit, the chair was much more comfortable than her one at home. She stared around the room quietly for a moment, taking in the atmosphere. She breathed deeply, then got the computer working. She had positions to fill.

[Zjaum]

Huck
The Texan delegate had arisen at roughly 6:30. His breakfast, as always, was exceptional, thanks especially to his wife's presence and culinary skill. After complimenting the chef for the hway-voes and obligatorily punching the duffel bag with Egilson's face on it, he put on his gallon hat and politics attire and made his way through the egress. As he entered his car, his kids waved out to him. "Don't forget about us at the house today!"
He waved. "No worries, hijo miyo, I'll think about you all day! I'll get you a pen from Congress, promise!"
His automobile's automated service had coffee prepared for him, and he read the morning paper as the car chauffeured him to his destination. "Hey, Auto! Oh, shoot, what did I call her? Ah, right. Ford!"
A woman's voice appeared. "Yes?"
"Did I get any new mail this mornin'?"
"You have 36 new messages."
"Give me the important ones."
She read aloud the letter sent by Jack Clair. Hinshaw was filled with both chagrin and additional determination, culminating in a moderately-loud "Shucks. Hey, Ford, play me some old country."
A couple of Hannah Montana and Carrie Underwood songs started playing. It wasn't his personal favorite, but it was sufficient for a mere forty-minute travel to Washington, D.C. Still, Huck had a feeling that he was going to have to be particularly insistent in his discussions today.

[Vienna Eliot]

8:26 AM
House Democratic Whip's Office | The Capitol

---

"Who?"

"Mayor Webster."

"Who the fuck is Mayers Webber?"

"Mayor Webster, Jim," Jack said from the corner of the room, looking a bookshelf up and down.

The Leader still didn't get it. "Mayor of what?" he asked.

"The District of Columbia," Ellie said.

"The Mayor of Washington wants to meet? Today? Tell her I'm fucking busy!" Smathers got up from his chair — a nice swivel chair, among the best, really — and paced across the room. First to one end, then back to his desk. He was practically stomping. "You know what? Everyone, all staff, out!"

Young men and women with tablets, clipboards, folders, shuffled out of the room. Some older folks too. Ellie stayed put. Jim stared at her, almost fuming. Jack peered over a book he had pulled from the shelf, looking on amusedly.

"I said—"

"I'm your Chief of Staff."

"That makes you more staff than anyone else here. Out."

"I deserve a little bit of respect, no?"

Jack lunged toward her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "People are dead."

"What are you going to do once I leave?"

"Let her stay, Jim," Jack said. "She knows how to operate the phones!"

"Fine! Fine!" the Leader shouted. "Okay," he muttered, looking down. He backed up and leaned against his desk.

"So— so what? Who needs to know about this?"

"Hm," Jack said, a little cavalierly. "Maybe, the president? I'm sure he'd like to know. Probably ought to let the Caucus in on it as well. I'll bet you the Republicans just emailed it out to their members. You know what the email probably said, Jim? The subject line was 'Good news, bitch dead.' The press probably knows. Does her family know? You should tell her husband. He's gonna be looking for her from the gallery."

"Shut up, and, yes. We'll tell— no, I mean. No, we can't tell her husband. Who knows who he'll tell. And I told Kevin not to tell his caucus."

"And the president?" Ellie said.

"Yes, I guess..." Smathers thought about it for a moment. "Sure. Yes. Inform the White House of the situation involving Ms. Glanforte. They should get people investigating that. Wait — has anyone thought to tell the fucking Capitol Police? Somebody call them! Tell them not to let anyone know, obviously, but, I mean, they need to put the Capitol on lockdown!"

"Jim..." Jack said. "Is that a good idea?" He looked at him for a couple seconds, then raised his eyebrows. "The Capitol? On lockdown? On the first day of session? People are going to lose their shit. They'll think there's a terror attack going on. No one else is dead. We can't risk this. We've got to — I hate to say this — we've got to keep people in the dark. If you're not Speaker in three hours, we're fucked."

Jim Smathers looked out the window, frowned, and sighed. "Okay. Ellie, inform the president of the incident. Jack, make sure the caucus room is ready."

"I didn't know we still had a caucus room."

[Helowi]

Sandy Carter Williamson
Sandy woke up from her sleep at about 6:15 and did her usual morning routine. (taking a shower, doing her hair, the usual) She then sat down at breakfast with her husband Dan and kids Jackie, Dan Jr., and Carter. Her husband was a stay at home husband ever since she took her seat in Congress and took a lot of responsibility in taking care of the kids. After preparing a cup of tea for herself, she drove to her 1st day of the session at her congressional job.

She got to her office at about 7:45. She walked up to her congressional office and talked engaged in small talk with her secretary, Jane.
“Good Morning, Congresswoman Williamson.” Jane said
“Good Morning, Jane, and please call me Sandy.” Sandy responded back. “Any important news that I need to know about.”
Jane quickly looked through her memos “You have a doctors appointment at 6 for a checkup on how the baby is doing, dinner with your husband later, and also Clair has moved the meeting to 9 in an email.”
She almost spit out the tea she was drinking at the moment. “Read the Email please.”
Jane had recited the Email word for word. “Thank you, Jane” she said as she went back to her office area and responded to the Email herself.

FROM: Office of Representative Sandy Carter Williamson
TO: Office of the Democratic Whip, Jack Clair.
SUBJECT: RE: New Meeting Time
Hello Jack.

I think I have made it clear in the past of my wish to contest Mr. Smathers as I believe at this time it is important that we have younger faces as leadership of this great party. I will be going on with a contest for the leadership spot. I know it is important that we show unity in this time of our party, and that is why I will still support you and Smathers if I have been defeated, and I hope you will do the same if I win the leadership.

Best regards,
Representative Sandy C. Williamson.

She then realized it was 8:15, if she wanted to make it, she had to go now. She exited her office, quickly telling Jane “if there are any updates on the email, please call me as soon as possible.”

“No problem, Sandy” Jane said, although by the time she had finished, Sandy was already out and getting to the meeting as quick as possible.

[The GAmeTopians]

Office of IL-2 Representative Nessa Flanagan, 8:15 AM

The door flew open as Nessa herself burst into the office, startling her secretary. He quickly composed himself as Nessa stood impatiently in front of him.
"Miss Flanagan, you have two important emails, one from the Whip and the other from the NRA head."
She nodded to him, clicking open a briefcase and rifling through a massive stack of papers.
"Read me the one from the Whip, Davies, I can read the NRA one later. I want to get to the caucus meeting early."
"Not much chance of that, Miss Flanagan, listen to this."
Davies read out the email, and Nessa's eyes widened, before gritting her teeth.
"Shit! What the hell, Jack... I'm heading out, Davies, handle any calls while I'm out."
They nodded again to one another, and she clicked her briefcase shut, before dashing out the door.

[Zjaum]

Oval Office

Boy, this would be a sick f***ing excuse for a delaying tactic.

This was Egilson's first reaction as he read the morning mail. The second was as follows:

Wait, if it's true, does he think I did it?

There was a brief pause. What the heck is he supposed to do? Like, this is republic-ending stuff here. Well- more so than the usual, he guessed. He took a few moments to collect his thoughts. Okay, if this is true. He knew that he personally didn't have anything to do with it. The establishment? He did his best to sway people, but there were doubtless a few salty individuals angry at him for taking their respective chances. Was he still in the dark all this time? Heck, this might just pave the way for bi-partisan impeachment. Egilson's time as commander-in-chief had taken a toll on his health, and his naïveté was ripped from him and replaced with a mild version of paranoia. Boy, was it kicking in strong today.

Well, the Republican establishment... Wright might be able to shed some light on the situation. If he's in on this, it'd be best to tell him that the president knows now, before this becomes a need-to-know government secret. If he's out on this, his insight on who would be more than valuable. And he should be told regardless, before the FBI close it from outside eyes. His first call was to Vice President Wright. Message machine. "Wright. Get your ass over here. Stop whatever you're doing; don't even bother with hygiene if you got up late. My office, now, please. Thank you."

The next was to the FBI: "If you could send the Director over as soon as possible, I have something for him that's probably not great for over-the-phone conversation. Thank you."

The third was more veiled. Ironically, a denial of guilt would immediately make him look guilty. The message, typed as the two individuals arrived, was as follows:

To Whip and Whomever it May Concern:

Thank you for bringing this to my attention. This is deeply concerning, and I assure you that I will get to the bottom of this. Is there any other information that might possibly lead to this incident that you could provide us? I will be discussing this with top officials in the FBI, and I'd appreciate anything.

I hope that your people can continue with the Speaker of the House vote. If your allegations are as bad as you describe them, then both myself and the VP are at risk as well, and the whole chain of command would be turned on its head. I further insist that we bring this out to the public. People should hear about something like this, and whoever's behind this should know that we're onto them. Still, I acknowledge your judgement.

Have an otherwise nice day,
Benjamin P. Egilson

[Helowi]

Gareth Bartholomew Wright
Wright has started his morning as usual. Getting out of bed, taking a shower, combing his hair, and putting on his suit. His wife, Danielle, had cooked him the usual breakfast, scrambled eggs with toast and bacon, which he ate along with his kids, Andrew, Mary, Emma, and Henry, while his fifth child, Jackson, had left home a week ago in order to get back to college.

The Egilson Presidency has remained pretty good for Wright overall. He had been a key swing vote when the senate had become more 50-50 over the years, a majority of the time voting with the Republicans, but sometimes going with the Democrats on key legislation. Even though it was only 2059, he was already getting the itch to get the title of Commander in Chief in 2060. News Panelists had already been speculating due to trips to New Hampshire and Iowa, and also arrivals at fundraisers for his Political Action Committee, WrightPAC.

He had already been making small talk with his children and wife. Whilst he was contemplating that he would be attending Andrews high school graduation in a couple of months, he had gotten up to check his messages. Instantly hearing the urgent message from Egilson, rushing out of the house as quick as possible, giving his wife a kiss and a goodbye to his kids before he left.

A secret service agent was driving him to the Oval Office as quick as he could. It took him barely any time to arrive there. He ran to the building as quickly as he could and got to the Oval Office to see what was the matter that Egilson had seemed so important. He opened the doors of the Oval Office and greeted Egilson.

“Nice to see you, Benjamin.” Wright said as he shook hands with Egilson. “ What’s the important business that you needed me to hear about.”

[Zjaum]

Oval Office

He came. Great. Egilson swiveled his computer screen around to show the email the Democrats sent. "All right, so... uh... the Democrats found one of their own dead in a bathroom. I wanted to make sure you knew this before it gets thrown under wraps. I know we've had our in-party differences in the past, but you seem like a trustable person. I have no further information than that, and I have no idea what the meaning of this is or what's behind it. For all I know, it's a scam. Regardless, I think non-partisan help is not unwarranted. I've invited the FBI here, and I have no problems with you sitting in." Short. Simple. To the point. Hopefully that clears things up. Hopefully. Of course, he could be dead in a few seconds if Wright is part of everything, but, golly gee, he'd be dead anyway if the anyone found a way to sic it on him. And it felt nice to get everything off his chest. He couldn't bear the weight of absolutely everything, after all.


Huck

Huck got out of his car singing a bit of Whiskey for My Men as he strolled into the house. The oldies sure were goodies. He breathed (relatively) fresh air. It was a good day. No matter what happened on the representative floor today, it would continue to be good. The sun was out and nice, there were the right kinds of clouds, and a nice, gentle breeze was passing through. The simple things in life were what mattered most to the Texan, and these natural luxuries were some of those things.

Now, Huck had divided his schedule into certain types. Some were State Days, where he would stick by his state, making sure that she got what she wanted. Some were Policy Days, where he'd focus on getting a certain idea pushed through into law. Today, though, was a Party Day, when the Party had to win, at least for the sake of the next two years of slog. The first place to go an a Party Day was the Democrat meeting room, before anything else. 9:00 the man said, and 8:59 would be his arrival time. He straightened his tie and headed on out.

[New Cobastheia]

Theo Guess
8:00 AM

Out of all the Senator-Elects, Theo Guess was the talk of the town. Why would a 2-term Governor, 2-term Premier, Former Presidental Canadite want to be a Junior Senator? Well, why did Mitt Romney want to be the Junior Senator from Utah? A cynic would answer, well he wants to be President. A supporter would answer, he wants to serve his people and fix this country. Both answers are correct.

There's always going to be something wrong with this country that Theo will want to fix, and he'll never close his mouth until he's dead. Not to mention the people of the great state of California will never not love him, so why not run for office? Meanwhile, ever since the office of the Presidency was stolen from him by an antiquated system designed for a populace that lived in squalor, his drive to be the most powerful person in the world has only gotten more intense. Besides that, he won't stop until he puts the bullet in the head of the electoral college, and he's going to need to act fast if he wants the security of living in a nation that De Facto elects it's Head of State with a popular vote, but 10 electoral votes isn't all that far off.

Guess started to eat a bagel in his DC Home while texting his Husband, who was back in California as they didn't want to make Benji switch schools halfway through the school year. He sent a quick little message, telling him to text back when he woke up, before going back into his bedroom to relax before he went into work.

---

Jane Thompson Kemsworth
8:30 AM

"Good Morning Mrs. Kemsworth" For the last serval decades, Jane Thompsom Kemsworth heard people say that every day. For most people, it was just a pleasant greeting, of course, most people weren't engaged in a pseudo-psychological warfare with their estranged Husband who just so happens to be a Former Vice President.

Over the years, she's been able to mentally block in her mind when anyone would say Mrs. Kemsworth, but every once and a while she heard that part. Today was one of those days.

"Good Morning Mrs. Kemsworth," Spoke the secretary as Jane walked into her office, "You have a new email from Kevin."
"Could you read it for me darl'in while I unpack for the day?" She said as he hid the pain in her voice as Mr. Kemsworth echoed in her head.
"Yes, ma'am."

After the secretary finished Jane got up from the chair she had only sat down in a few seconds ago, "Well I guess I'll be off then."

[Helowi]

Gareth B. Wright
Wright remained quiet for a couple of seconds, in complete disbelief of what was happening right now. After about 3 long seconds, he began to speak to Egilson. “Thank you for informing me, Ben, and not leaving me out of the loop on the situation.” Wright said, slightly tearing as he said it. “We need to make sure the sicko or sickos that did this get caught for the horrible crimes they committed in killing this woman who was about to take the pride in serving her state in the House.” Wright said, in a slightly emotional voice.

Wright had met Representative Glanforte along with her husband, Grant, slightly after her election to the House to talk about policy and what she wanted to get done. She was one of the nicest people he had ever met, even in the nastiness of this time in politics. “Ben, has Grant Glanforte been informed of the situation yet?” Wright had said, knowing that it was important that the family been informed as soon as possible. “I feel like that should be an important matter to have the family know as soon as possible.”

[Zjaum]

Egilson sighed very loudly. "That... that's something I'm going to leave to the Democrats. If we tell him, we might as well make a public announcement. I concur that he's need-to-know, but I don't think the FBI would quite agree. Speaking of, where's the damn director? The building's practically across the street; what the hell could be taking him so-"

The door opened. "I apologize, sir; today was my vacation day. Had to cancel my flight and send my family to Hawaii on their own... " Director Steve Oldenkamp took a breath and attempted to compose himself with a joke. "So, is it the end of the world today?" He smiled at his own bureaucratic humor, but Egilson was less amused. "Not the world, but legitimately perhaps the end of American democracy." He tapped the computer screen. "Read."

Steve's smile was gone at those words, his demeanor to follow as he read the email. "Gosh, I need a vacation," he muttered under his breath. "Okay, sir, thank you for bringing this to our attention. I'm thinking of a few particularly trustworthy and unbiased exemplars to take care of this case."
"Yes, but the speaker vote toda-"
"Damn it, the speaker vote today. People will get suspicious if we come out and postpone it. Shit. I'm going to have to talk with the Democrats on this one. we'll get in touch with you as soon as we can."
"Keep Wright in touch as well."
"Look, sir-"
"I do not have the political capital to handle everything myself. We have a Democrat," -pointing to the computer- "A Republican," -pointing to Wright- "and an outsider" -six years, and still he and many others considered him "outside the party"- "working on this. That should be enough bipartisanship to go forward. As President, I'm requesting that you do this. Is that permissible?"
"Fine. I will keep in touch with both of you. Who outside of the people in this room and the people at the other end of the email know about this?"
"As far as I know, no one."
"Gianforte's husband?"
"I can't tell; I'm not aware of that. I didn't contact him, and there was no mention of it."
"Well, we have a few hours before he'll get suspicious; we'll try and make the most of that. Please forward that email to me as soon as I leave. Good morning, gentlemen."

With that, the director saluted and left the room. Egilson slumped into his seat, turned around the computer, and began clicking the right buttons to forward the correspondence. He looked up at Wright. "I understand that that answered no questions for either of us, but is there anything you have in mind? I've got absolutely nothing; I'm all ears."

[Vienna Eliot]

"What's your source?"
Tip O'Neill Democratic Caucus Room | Ocasio-Cortez House Office Building

---

"We're going to get started, folks," Smathers said with a characteristically pained smile as he looked out over the heads — 216 of them — of Democratic Congresspeople seated in the room. Basic auditorium style, just two clusters of chairs with an aisle dividing them. That was really the way to go.

"So — wait, is the mic working?" A couple people in leadership, in the front rows, nodded. "Can y'all hear me in the back? Okay, good. Let's get started. It's already nine-o-two. We said nine. So, good morning everybody, so great to see, not just familiar faces, and we've got a lot of those, and that's good. But it's so great to see, what is it, Jack? Fifty-nine new faces in this caucus? That's the biggest gain this party has seen since 2018. The Democratic Party is strong. This is going to be a great Congress."

"That can't be true. Why would that be true?"
Republican House Cloakroom | The Capitol

---

Most of the returning Members — as well as a page who thought he was hot shit because he had been here last semester, too — were complaining that the cloakroom was much too small for this meeting, and it was. The original plan was to use the Rayburn room, and for everyone to sit around nice tables, but apparently the room had been booked months in advance for some space agency bullshit. Only one person to thank for that.

The new members, two dozen or so fresh faced Republican Congressmen and women, didn't mind, of course. Packed in folding chairs, on loveseats and couches, some of them were seeing the cloakroom for the first time. Some of them were meeting the leadership for the first time. Some of them were struggling to get into the room because they were a few minutes late, and consequently looked down in shame as the caucus finished up the pledge.

"—with liberty and justice, for all." Some of the Wright-wingers had gotten into the habit of emphasizing that last word. Some of the old guard had gotten into the habit looking to a familiar face — they were disappearing at an alarming rate — to share their amusement with. The chairman pivoted from the flag to face the room as the other Members resumed their seats in unison. He cleared his throat, then projected his voice.

"With that, we'll get to the business. As noticed in the email sent out this morning, we'll be electing conference leadership, with the exception of leader and AL. That said — uh, yeah, so that's chairman, vice chair, secretary, and then I think underclassmen leadership will be elected, um, we're going to work on that in the coming week, weeks. I didn't get any notice of anyone running for any of those offices except me, and Kelly, and Brett. And the committee leadership was decided last Congress. So I believe that essentially wraps up those elections."

One sophomore, who was hoping to run for vice chair from the floor, thought about raising an objection. Looked like a charade, he thought, to ram in the same old leadership. Well, he oughta tell this presidential pawn what he really thought. And he thought about what he thought, and then he came to, hearing a snippet of what the chairman was saying.

"...so we will be electing two assistant leaders. Just in case."

Then a murmur spread across the cloakroom, and people started standing up. The sophomore Congressman turned to a colleague, asked if he could repeat what the chairman had just said. "No, really, I didn't hear him."

"So with that, we will recess for one hour. Be back at... let's say 10:20. Text me with your candidacy. Guys! Text me with your candidacy if you're—oh, fuck it."

"My editor says he's not going to run it until someone can corroborate. Can somebody corroborate this?"
Tip O'Neill Democratic Caucus Room | Ocasio-Cortez House Office Building

---

"And that's — I mean, it really has been a pleasure to serve as your whip for the past three Congresses. And I cannot wait to see the work we are going to do, the great work we are going to do, the next two years. And for the record, there's going to be one of us in the White House the next time we have this meeting."

Jack Clair wrapped up his speech to much fanfare. Of course the more charismatic of the two — and Smathers was fairly charismatic — he had already made some friends among the new Members. Rachel, from Wisconsin, Rolando, from Texas, Mark, from New York, it was really such a long list, and it seemed like he already had fifteen years of friendship with every one of them. And the speech — if you liked his tangent-driven style, which, sure, some didn't, but plenty did — had all but shored up his support. He and the Leader were good, upstanding Congressmen, real admirers of the world's oldest party, and ready to lead it into the next ten years. And they're southerners, to boot. Sure to be reelected. Even the most ambitious newcomers, the most courageous mavericks, were set up to vote them back into leadership without any serious challenge.

"Which is why, without further ado — though there ain't much ado to do, I'm sure you all know, but I won't build it up too much, no, I really won't—" laughter, some applause "—I would really like to introduce my friend, my colleague, my leader — our Leader, a man many of you have seen, one from whom you will see much more—" somebody whistled from the back of the room "—the next, the one and only, soon to be, Speaker of the House of Representatives, and his name is Jim Smathers."

There was some applause, and cheering, and then someone's phone buzzed. Smathers smiled and waved and made his way back up to the podium and then another two or three dinged at the same time. And there was a shwoop on one. And then they all went off at once. Clair and Smathers posed for a picture with some interns. They hadn't noticed what had happened in the room.

January 3, 2059. 9:23 am.
AP News Alert: Democratic Congresswoman Cindy Glanforte assassinated. Story developing.

[Helowi]

Gareth Bartholomew Wright
Wright was just as clueless as Egilson was in the encounter with the FBI Directors visit. In that encounter, he had learned basically absolutely nothing. But he knew it was about the time to start preparing for when this got out.

“I think once this gets out, we have to contact the Mayor of D.C. about a possible state of emergency. We also need to get ready for If this breaks out without us wanting it to break out. The press can get there hands on anything at the most inconvenient time today. That’s all I got, just get ready.”

Wright was overall concerned about what could happen after this, if any more politicians could be killed. He wanted to see this villain caught and to make sure that no more casualties were caused.

Sandy Carter Williamson
Williamson was excited for the leadership election. The future of the party was in her hands. She had went around the room and met with representatives, vying for their votes in the leadership election.

She walked up to Smathers after photographs were taken and gave him a handshake and gave him a good luck for the leadership election. She then did the same thing to Jack Clair, a person she had grown to like throughout her years in the House. As she was giving Jack a good luck for the deputy chair election, her phone rang. As she picked it up, she saw it was her husband. “I have to take this.” She said to Clair, leaving the room

“What is it honey…What happened…a murder?!…reported by who…Associated Press…okay…I’ll keep safe…thank you for informing me honey…okay…goodbye.” A murder had happened in D.C.. Not even outside of the area, not even outside of the building, but just around the corner in the restroom.

She had quickly rushed inside and asked Jack Clair if he knew about the situation. She was nervous about the situation. She had 3 months until her baby was due to be born, and she wanted to make it until then.

[New Cobastheia]

Jane Thompson Kemsworth
Washington, DC

Jane had barely gotten out of the damn cloakroom before it erupted into pure chaos. Notification after notification, it started as a low buzz, like a single cricket on a hot summer's night. Before turning into a symphony of different phone noises so loud and blaring that only a terrible techo-musician could of thunk it.

Curious to see what all the news was about, she took her phone out of her pocket.

"Dear Lord, the bitch of Montana, is dead." She thought to herself as she continued to walk, opening the article on her phone, she read what little was there was she made her way down to the basement of the US Capital. She finished the piece as she took her seat on the people mover talking her to the Rayburn Office Building. Doing some simple math in her head as she made her way back up to her office, 217/2=108.5 and 109-79=30. It would be close, but with the combined might of her conference, the woman of the Republican Party, and the old guard she could become Leader. If she managed to get the Blue Dogs on her side, she might just become Speaker. Hell even if she didn't manage to become Republican Leader, it would still get her name out there when it came time for the vote on the Speaker.

Rushing into her office she took her seat and started writing emails as she gave orders to her secretary, almost emotionless, "Janice, I'm sure you've heard Ms. Glanforte is dead. As much as that saddens me, we need to take advantage of this unique opportunity. Start calling every female Republican in the House who isn't in my conference. Tell them that if they support my candidacy for the Leadership, we can work together to make sure no other woman dies in the Capital today."

"Who you like me to step up the whiteboard ma'am?" Janice responded.

"That would be a delight, Janice."

---

FROM: Chairwoman Kemsworth
TO: Republican Religious Conference
SUBJECT: Kemsworth for House Leadership

Hello All,
I write this message today informing you all that I will be running for House Republican Leader. I expect you all to vote for me in an hour for this position. We need to make sure that I am the leader at the end of the day not just to expand our Conference's power but to avenge our fallen colleague from across the aisle, Ms. Glanforte, and punish her murder. If we all vote for me, we'll still need 30 votes for me to be elected Leader. Because of this, I ask several of you to come to my office to help operate the phones with my secretary, my chief of staff, and I. We will be contacting female members and old guard members of our party to convince them to support us.

If you have any questions about my candidacy, feel free to contact me.

Thanks All,
Jane Thompson Kemsworth

FROM: Rep. Jane Thompson Kemsworth
TO: Chairman Kevin Anderson
SUBJECT: Kemsworth for House Leadership

Hello Kevin,

I am putting my name in for consideration as House Republican Leader.

Sincerely,
Jane

[Zjaum]

Congress
Huck was having fun in the morning announcement. He was whooping and cheering at the end of the meeting. Jim Smathers was a good man; he'd talked to him personally, see. The Democrats were back in business, and they were organized well enough to take the fight to the reds. He threw his gallon hat in the air and the entertainment for the Democratic seats for a few chairs in all directions. The New Yorkers don't understand fun quite like the Texans, after all. "Yee-haw, go blue!"

His countenance's emotion turned from amusement to confusion to chagrin. This... "No, this is the dirtiest trick in the darn book, I will not stand for something like this." He stormed out of the Democrat meeting and over to where he knew the Republicans were gathering. He stood outside the doors, as he knew he probably wouldn't be let in. He was tougher than most, but not tougher than any two men and a taser. He shouted at the top of his lungs: no banging on doors, no punches yet- "You think you've gotten away with it, reds! You have blood on your hands! Can you live with that? I sure as hell can't! You will not live this down, I swear to you!" He turned to the nearest Republican who could hear him. "You can't be in the party on the side of right if THIS is what you do! I'd think long and hard about your affiliations, congressman!"


Oval Office
He found the alert on his computer. He immediately called the building across the street. "Get me Oldenkamp now. Yes, I will hold. I open it up to you guys, and you leak it to the FUCKING PRESS?! Yeah, I know you're the FBI! Yeah, I don't give a shit! You guys have been meddling in political affairs for the past fifty years, for crying out loud! Of course I believe you're... Fine. Yes, it could be the Democrats who did this. It wasn't on my end, and Wright is still here in the damn room! Your priorities, in order: find out who leaked the story, find out who killed her, try and keep things confidential. For fuck's sake."

He hung up the phone. He wasn't the violent kind of guy, but he needed a punching bag in the Oval office about now. After sliding his hand across his mouth he picked up the phone again, called his PR guy, and instructed thusly: "I want an alibi for me, for everyone I know, for my closest political allies, for the lady who gave me the double-patty cheeseburger last night. You have my permission to access anything in my records. Send me the names of those in my circles who don't have alibis... no, I'm not accusing them of anything just yet. Just get me the alibis, please." He then googled the number for AP and dialed it. "Yes, hello, this is President Benjamin Egilson... No, the actual President Benjamin Egilson. Do you need me to send you an email or something as proof? Fine, gimme a sec... Okay, you should have an email from my official address. While you're verifying that, I would appreciate any details you have on this assassination. If you had available sources, they would be greatly appreciated."

[Vienna Eliot]

"What are you planning on doing with it, anyway?"
The Associated Press | Arlington, VA

---

Dianne, a star student at American, was off to a great start at her internship when the President of the United Fucking States rang.

"Okay, um — an email? Yes, that would be great. That would be so excellent... Mr. President..."

It popped up on her screen. It looked pretty real. Not that she knew what the president's email address looked like.

"Yes, of course. Thank you so much, Mr. President. I'll, uh, I'll connect you right now to my supervisor."

––ring! ring!––

"Mills."

"Hi, Mr. Mills. I forwarded you an email. The president — I think it's the president — he's on the line. He sent that email."

It popped up on his screen. It looked pretty real. Not that he knew what the president's email address looked like. But why pass up on this? He straightened his tie, even though no one could see him, and cleared his throat.

"Alright. Put him on the line. Mr. President? Mr. President! Such an honor, Mr. President, what can I do for... oh? Okay, right. You know what, let me put you through — of course, let me put you right through to the bureau chief..."

"None of your fucking business."
Tip O'Neill Democratic Caucus Room | Ocasio-Cortez House Office Building

---

Any number of dozens of Members had already flooded out into the hallway, hysterical, so there was no point trying to wrangle the caucus together. An aide was explaining to Clair — who had joined the bandwagon of not having a cell phone — what had happened when Williamson approached him. At least someone wanted his guidance. He looked out over the room — people on phones, running out of the room, someone cowering in a corner crying, two interns making out. Whatever.

"Congresswoman," he said, "so wonderful to see you." What was he saying? Someone had leaked that Glanforte was dead. This wasn't the time for pleasantries. "I really wish I had more information. I truly do, m'am." This was true, to be fair. He did wish he knew more. "But I'm afraid I'm learning about this just as we all are." That was a lie. "Now, I think it's of the utmost importance that we — well, we have to remain united. We'll — I'm sure the Capitol Police are putting the building on lockdown, and — and we'll all gather here, we'll continue with the meeting. We will elect the leadership and move forward as a party. Now more than ever we must remain united. I trust Leader Smathers and I have your support? Your colleagues are surely looking to you for guidance now more than ever. In fact, why don't you reach out to them? Make sure they're calm, make sure all is well. You're an excellent leader in this caucus. You have such great opportunities ahead of you. Right now, we just need to make it through the next couple of hours. Excuse me, oh, I'll need to tend to some of my staff. Please excuse me, Congresswoman. I'll see you soon."

Clair rushed over to Smathers and his staff, who were all huddled together. Jack Clair did not know any of their names, but he was willing to fake it till he made it. Christ. Did he just use this moment to push his political ambitions? He thought about it for a moment. Was he taking advantage of the young woman? No, of course not. And if he was, it was for the greater good, anyway. People were dead, for fuck's sake.

"Jim, what's next?" he said to Smathers.

Jim stuttered. "I think— Ellie, what's next?"

"Get everyone back in the room. Hold the vote. March to the chamber. You become Speaker. Business proceeds as usual."

"What about—" Clair said, waving his hand to apologize for cutting anyone off —"sorry, right, but, what about the, you know?" He tilted his head toward the door, somehow conveying the words the murder without saying them.

Silence, then Jim quipped, "Doesn't really matter, I don't think." He looked around the huddle for reassurance, and some staff nodded. "Yeah, I mean — I'm sorry, folks: she's dead. Capitol Police are on it now. They probably leaked it to the press. I checked with Kevin Anderson, he swears to God Almighty that he didn't do it. No reason he would, anyway. But what's done is done. Long as no one else gets shot in the mouth, we've just got to put our heads down and get to work. What's the saying? Head bowed, eyes forward."

"Continue the work of history," Ellie said. An old Graham speech. Classic.

Clair looked at the ground, then looked up, eyebrows furrowed. "She got shot in the mouth?"

"Oh yeah, right through the neck," a staffer said.

"You know what they say about a gift horse..."

"We can pay in cash, right?"
The Associated Press | Washington, DC

---

"Yes, sir. Absolutely. Of course. I am putting you in touch with the Chairman right now. They'll tell you everything you need to know. Just a moment, Mr. President..."

The Associated Press Headquarters | New York, NY

---

"I completely understand. I've — yes, Mr. President. And I will put you in touch with the reporter who broke the story. If you could just wait one moment..."

Somewhere on Maryland Ave NE | Washington, DC

---

"You've reached Robin Garcia's work cell. I'm not available to pick up the phone right now, bu——"

"Robin Garcia, AP."

"Hi Robin, this is Alex Trudeau. I have POTUS on the line. He has a couple questions regarding your most recent story. Mind if I put him through?"

Robin had met Egilson before. This did not make her less fazed to receive a call from him, not in the least through the Chairman of the AP. But if that's what it took to be a journalist, then so be it.

"Yes, gladly. Please do."

A tap, tap, ring for a moment. Robin expected a brisk voice to announce that The President Is On The Line, but instead she heard a coarse breathing — Egilson's, by the sound of it — of someone who had just been transferred between five to ten different phones.

"Mr. President? Robin Garcia, Associated Press. What can I help you with?"

"I'm sorry I asked. Please. I have children."
Republican House Cloakroom | The Capitol

---

The last few Republican Members shuffled back into the cloakroom as the Democrat in the gallon hat shouted at them. One of them muttered to another: "A real southerner would never wear his hat indoors."

Voting was already underway. The chairman kept a close eye on his wristwatch — 10:02am — as Members shuffled forward and gave the secretary their vote. Some announced it loudly, apparently proud of their vote. Most said the name and moved along. Still others — especially the older folks — wrote it down on a piece of paper, preserving in utmost secrecy their vote.

The talk of the room was that Jane Kemsworth was on track to win. It wasn't that she was particularly qualified or popular — though she was both of those things — but simply that the expected competition from Pasternak and Anderson hadn't materialized. Caulfield had tossed her name into the race, but she was more of a protest candidate than anything, and certainly didn't appeal to the Wright wing of the caucus.

Still, there was reason to believe write-ins and abstentions might win out. The murmur in the room quieted down as the chairman took the paper and read the results.

"There were 216 votes cast. So 109 were needed for election. Ginger Caulfield of New Mexico received 14 votes. Jane T. Kemsworth of New York received 146 votes. Write — settle down, guys. Write-in candidates received 56 votes. And I abstained. So Jane Kemsworth is elected Leader. We'll now elect two assistant leaders..."

"Cunt, so do I."
Tip O'Neill Democratic Caucus Room | Ocasio-Cortez House Office Building

---

They had gotten most of the caucus back into the room. And no one was leaving the building, of course, unless they decided to fight with the Capitol Police. There was the people mover to the Capitol, though. Hopefully folks would come back. Either way, they had a quorum.

Jack Clair was elected assistant leader easily. Unopposed, actually, which was concerning, or reassuring, but not both. It meant either that everyone had fallen in line — no one was running against him and Jim Smathers for the leadership — or it meant that people were aiming high, for the leadership, and that Smathers was about the run a contested race. Not a good look for a man who couldn't seem to go a single day on the Hill without getting one of his caucusgoers killed in a bathroom stall.

They were about to find out. "Okay," Clair said to the room, as Members — many wiping away tears or with bloodshot eyes — crept back into the room. "I know this is a difficult time for all of us. We just need to power through this, folks, okay? Okay: are there any nominations for Leader?"

"Smathers," somebody called out from the middle of the room.

"Jim Smathers of Florida is nominated. Are there any further nominations?" Jack Clair crossed his fingers behind his back.

"Careful. Just inch it out the window. A little bit more. Okay, go."
Maryland Ave NE and First St NE | Washington, DC

---

"I understand your frustrations, Mr. President, but I can't share sources. I'm sorry."

Robin thought about what she was saying. The interest of the national security was in her hands right now. What if—

And then she was shot.

[Helowi]

Sandy Carter Williamson
“Alright. I will reach out to the Congressional Progressive Caucus as soon as I can.” Williamson said. She had a pretty big role in the caucus as the current Co-Chair of the caucus along with James Prescott of California’s 33rd District. She had called her caucus into a room and was about to address them.

She then began to talk to the other Co-Chair, James Prescott. “Gianforte was just found dead in the restroom. I talked to Clair, and he told me to address the caucus. I just felt like you needed to know before I went out and addressed the caucus members.”

Prescott modded his head, and told her to go out and address the other members of the Cauus in the smaller room that everyone was crammed into. Williamson walked up onstage and gave a quick address to her fellow Congresspeople. “Good evening friends, colleagues, and congressional aides. Today, a truly gruesome thing has happened on the premises of the Washington D.C. area. An awful thing that will truly test the politics of this time. This morning, Electee for Congress Cindy Gianforte, was found out to be murdered in the restroom in the Ocasio-Cortez House Office Building. Not even down the hallway from this room.”

The room began to erupt into whispers and gasps for a while until Williamson continued. “At this time, I would like to ask everyone to stay safe and make sure that everyone in your caucus is safe. We are currently getting into contact with the District of Columbia Police Department, the FBI, and the Secret Service to assure that we can be safe and find the monster that committed these gruesome acts.”

“In the meantime, we must encourage everyone to stay safe. Try not to go anywhere alone and report any suspicious behavior that you see around the area as soon as you possibly can. The FBI and D.C. police are trying to find out as much as they can about the death of Glanforte. We also ask you to stay calm, any freaking out would just cause more trouble than we ask for.”

“As for the leadership election, I know there have been a lot of rumors about my possible leadership challenge to House Leader Smathers. I will ask that nobody in this room nominate me, as I will not accept the nomination. I was quite skeptical about Smathers saying it was time for us to show unity, as a challenge to leadership in a Party helps our ideology grow. However, with the sudden death of Representative Glanforte, I believe that unity is now truly important for our party. Thank you for your time.”

Williamson had walked back into the room. She talked to a couple of other non-caucus people. The talk was about some Texas Representative yelling at Republican congressman. The election continued with Jack Clair being Re-Elected, and the nomination process for Leader going by pretty smoothly, with only Smathers being nominated and Re-Elected. While Williamson was a bit upset about the fact that she was not leader, she agreed that it was for the better. And who knows, maybe two years from now she could be the next leader. But for now, the Democrats needed to keep safe.