Topic: Media Reaction Hijinx

BardGallant

Date: 2010-05-19 18:49 EST
In response to: Annoyed Voters Call for Recount

Dris was still recovering from the shock and horror of winning the election in the privacy of his own home, and the media was in an uproar. Of course, that was to be expected. Hell. He hadn't expected to win the election. Between the two of them, Dris himself had been 100% certain that Matt would have won it, again. He had even gone to bed the night before with that comfortable certainty that he'd wake up and nothing at all had changed. Then he read the paper.

Naturally, his lover Icarus had thrown him a private celebration that was equal parts as much congratulatory as it was mockery. Dris was never going to live it down. Now he actually had to take this role much more seriously than he had originally planned for, because, well, winning hadn't actually been in his plans to begin with. All he'd wanted to do was give Matt a good run for his money. Sometimes being so terribly good at working a crowd had unexpected results.

The first article he read by Senior Columnist Madu Adeniji was typically unentertaining, filled with the usual unbiased drivel of pretty much just what happened. However, the other article he was reading now, by Amelia Enderwood, was something that under normal circumstances should have been cause for concern. Dris, on the other hand, found it undeniably amusing.

People were protesting already? He couldn't fault them for it, to be honest. Last he had checked before crawling into bed the night before the polls closed, Matt had been in the lead. Then he woke up to phone calls and knocks on the door and a media riot! His campaigners informed him he had won the election. He remembered waking up some hours later to Erin fanning his face with a small stack of campaign posters.

This article here was probably the highlight of it all, and the grin on his face was both stupid and undying as a result. "Paid off a bunch of gnomes?" he remarked to his dog. "Really?" Gussie, short for Augusta, was an enormous brute of a cream-colored Irish wolfhound. All things considered, she was almost taller than him when she was standing upright. Her existence in his little family, himself and Icarus and dog, was oftentimes a point of contention; she liked to hog the bed. Of course, the dog just lolled her tongue and swept some dirt under the rug with her tail in reaction to his musings.

Flitterstar Cloverflower's comment in the article made him snort. "What's wrong with my 'air, eh' That right there speaks o' jealousy, m'girl," he said to the dog. Gussie chuffed what she thought wasn appropriate follow-up comment, and the newly appointed Governor-Elect read on.

The very next paragraph made him break down into a fit of giggles. It wasn't what Darren Rummage had to say about him that made him laugh so much as it was the mention of the sign the local mechanic was reported to have been working on in preparation for his protest. Driscol Blows. It took Dris a good ten minutes to calm down enough to giggle out a few words on the matter in commentary to himself and his dog. "Oooooh, laaaaad," he crooned, sing-song to the living room at large. "You've noooooooo idea."