Characters:
Narrator
Jimmy Kovacs
Jill Slotter
Marsh
Newscaster
Keane
Max Thornfield
Molly
Drallus
Furtrace

Jimmy: How can this be at all possible!?

Slotter: Is he out of his mind!?

Narr: Jimmy Kovacs was pacing the main conference room of his campaign headquarters. It was about 6:00pm and he should have been eating dinner with the ‘Pack, but was instead having a nervous breakdown in front of the several monitor screens that were set up in the conference room. Slotter, Jimmy’s dedicated and enthusiastic campaign manager, had been leaning back in a chair with her feet propped up on a table trying to reassure the nervous candidate. Now, however, she stood gaping in awe, her eyes scanning back and forth over every screen.

Marsh: (charming, honest)…and it is with great honor and humility that I will take my place in our nation’s capitol. I thank you, my constituents, from the bottom of my heart for having enough faith in me to… (fade out)

Newscaster: If you’re just joining us, we are covering the bizarre and unexplained speech being delivered by Senator Marsh outside his campaign headquarters, in which he is essentially taking office. This is, of course, slightly premature as we are still tabulating the results from the election.

Jimmy: (panicked) Has there been a mistake? Is there something we missed?

Slotter: No, of course not! What could we have possibly missed?

Jimmy: I don’t know! But given the situation, it looks like someone dropped the ball somewhere!

Slotter: Now hold on, Jimbo. Just what are you saying?

Jimmy: Either the senator knows something we don’t, or he’s pulling something really crazy, but either way someone isn’t as in the know as she should be.

Slotter: Jimmy, even the newscasters are saying this is out of the blue! They’re still counting votes! No one knows what he’s doing!

Jimmy: But it’s your job to know these things before everyone else does! We’re supposed to be a step ahead of the opposition, not floundering behind them!

Narr: An unsuspecting Keane opened the door to the conference room.

Keane: You guys must be starving! I’ve made Martian Gumbo, anyone want-

Jimmy: AGH!

Slotter: Don’t say Marsh!

Keane: Sorry! Jeez, I didn’t realize we had to put the solar system on hold while the election happened!

Slotter: We might just have to. Look.

Narr: Keane stood with them watching one of the various local news channels for a minute.

Keane: Oh, Jimmy. Oh god, I’m sorry. (embarrassed, to the side) Slotter, why didn’t you tell us they’d decided things so soon?

Slotter: (loudly upset) Because they haven’t decided things at all! Marsh has decided things for himself!

Keane: What!?

Slotter: I have no idea what’s going on, but they’re still counting votes! It’s early yet, it’s going to be a close one. I think. Or I thought. I’m so confused. Can you get the others in here?

Narr: Within minutes the entire Flashpack was huddled around the monitor screens in the conference room. They watched for about ten minutes in complete silence.

Jimmy: Just turn them off. This is making me ill.

Slotter: But we might miss something important!

Jimmy: Oh, now you’re worried about that?

Max: Whoa, whoa, turn it down a notch you two.

Narr: Max took up the universal remote and turned off all the monitors.

Max: Let’s sit.

Slotter: Really, Max, there’s no way I could have seen this coming.

Max: I know. Let’s just get our bearings, okay?

Molly: So they’re nowhere near counting all the votes?

Slotter: No. All they’ve been saying all day is how close the race is.

Drallus: Is there anything about Marsh that would have helped you foresee this?

Slotter: How many times to I have to say that this is COMPLETELY OUT OF THE BLUE???

Drallus: I don’t mean to offend, Jill. I just think we should reflect on the campaign and see if anything jumps out at us as unusual.

Furtrace: I think that’s a marvelous idea, Drallus.

Jimmy: Senator Marsh is a highly respectable candidate! I have never seen anything that would make me think otherwise!

Slotter: It’s true. He has been nothing but intelligent, charming, and forthcoming. (beat) Which is why you shouldn’t be on my case.

Jimmy: (you can see him blush) Shucks, Slot.

Slotter: I’m just as freaked as you are, but I’m not the enemy, okay? We’re going to get you through this.

Max: Darn right we are. Say Keane, isn’t there Gumbo waiting? It smells fantastic.

Keane: I’m on it.

Max: Now listen up. We’re going to camp out in here and eat some Gumbo.

Drallus: Hungry, Max?

Max: We’re going to get some of Keane’s good home cooking in us, and we’re going to watch the news and try to monitor the situation. We’re going to be friends, and support Jimmy however he needs it.

Furtrace: I don’t want any of Keane’s dumb Martian food.

Jimmy: (loud sigh)

Max: Furtrace, let’s not tease on Election Day, hmm? Why don’t you see if there isn’t a spell that will help us figure out what’s going on? Molly, while Keane is getting dinner can you see what news is circulating on the inside circles?

Molly: Sure thing.

Narr: Being on the cutting edge of technology required Molly to have connections to underground resources where she could access information before it was in the hands of the public at large. She retreated to one of her offices and returned shortly with a small computer. Everyone sat around the table and munched on Keane’s delicious Gumbo, and watched the various news channels. Molly sat with one hand on her keyboard, constantly clicking away. As they ate, the ‘Pack became more and more uneasy, as Marsh’s speech went on for hours. He just seemed to be repeating his platform and policies, but he was drawing quite a large and enthusiastic crowd. Molly was digging up nothing, and the ‘Pack was starting to glaze over. Suddenly something perked them up.

Marsh: …and it is by the firm and wise guiding hands of the elder gods that I find myself in this incredibly noble position…

Keane: What!?

Molly: Did he just say elder gods?

Max: There is something so strange about that audience.

Jimmy: What is it, Max?

Max: I can’t put my finger on it.

Furtrace: Maybe it’s that they’re all crazy Satan worshippers.

Molly: Elder gods, fuzzbrain, not demons.

Furtrace: Just as creepy!

Slotter: Well it is pretty weird that they’re all cheering him. Any one of them could get the news on a low-grade Video Monitor. It’s hard to believe none of them realize he hasn’t won.

Drallus: Perhaps they know and just love him.

Keane: That’s still pretty weird.

Max: Yeah, but there’s something else going on. It’s hard to see under these conditions, but there’s something in their eyes. It’s almost as if they were under a spell.

Molly: You think he’s…hypnotizing them into adoring him?

Jimmy: I refuse to believe it.

Max: I wouldn’t rule out anything at this point, Jimmy.

Jimmy: But Marsh is a good man! An honest man! He wouldn’t do something like this!

Furtrace: No such thing.

Jimmy: As a good man?

Furtrace: As a good human man.

Keane: All good men are catmen, right, Furtrace?

Furtrace: I’m glad you’re catching on.

Keane: Do you have anything helpful to contribute here?

Furtrace: Max, if those people are under a spell, I can reveal it.

Drallus: Way to tell us now.

Furtrace: (genuinely sad that Drallus is mad at him) I’m sorry, Drallus, but I didn’t think-

Max: It’s okay, Furtrace. We’re thinking about it now. Can you do it here?

Furtrace: No, I have to be in their presence.

Max: Then to Massachusetts it is.

Molly: We’ll have to keep ourselves hidden – if Marsh is up to something he can’t see that we’re there or he’ll know we suspect something.

Furtrace: We don’t have to cheer him on, I just need to be able to see some of them.

Keane: Molly’s good at sneaking up on people.

Max: Then let’s do it! Flashpack!

Slotter, Molly, Keane, Drallus, Jimmy, Furtrace: Flashpack!

Narr: Soon the ‘Pack was whizzing over to Boston in their slightly cramped catship.

Jimmy: Say, Slotter?

Slotter: What is it, Jimmy?

Jimmy: If Marsh turns out to be all crazy and evil, who will be President?

Slotter: You, of course!

Jimmy: But I won’t have won. The people won’t have made an informed decision.

Slotter: Jimmy, the polls are definitely closed by now. Everyone has made their decision based on what they know of you and what they know – or, knew – of Marsh. If they find that the vote is in your favor, you will have won fair and square.

Jimmy: I suppose you’re right.

Slotter: Of course I’m right. We’ve run a great campaign, kiddo. Not our fault if your opponent turns out to be a crazy devil-worshipper.

Molly: They’re gods! Elder gods!

Slotter: Still creepy, eh, Furtrace?

Furtrace: You’re so original, Slotter.

Max: We’re approaching a street parallel to Marsh’s campaign quarters. We’ll park on this street and walk over. Can we try to keep the bickering, or any noise making for that matter, to a minimum?

Keane: Good luck, with this crowd.

Narr: Molly expertly and silently landed the little catship and the ‘Pack climbed out and snuck through the grass and approached Senator Marsh’s campaign headquarters from behind.

Max: (whispering, or talking softly) Furtrace, you’re the smallest of us. Can you sneak around the side and get a look at them?

Furtrace: (talking softly) I’ll tell you what I see.

Drallus: (softly) He’s been blowing hot air for hours with no signs of stopping. I say we sneak in.

Max: (softly) Molly?

Molly: (softly) I think it’s safe. There might be some good information in there.

Keane: (softly) Safe?! Is your definition of "safe" a high-risk situation?

Molly: (softly) Isn’t it always?

Max: (softly) Look we need all the information we can get. Let’s do it. Flashpack!

Slotter, Keane, Molly, Drallus: (softly) Flashpack!

Narr: (softly) Molly disarmed the- (clears throat and starts speaking at a normal volume) Er, Molly disarmed the alarm remotely with one of her gadgets or doo-dads, and the ‘Pack snuck in through a back door. While they explored, Furtrace scampered around the side of the building and incanted a spell as softly as possible –

Furtrace: (quiet cat noises)

Narr: - and before his eyes, the audience became almost transparent, and then solidified again. But instead of humans, they looked kind of like huge fish or sea creatures standing on two legs.

Furtrace: Boots of Pluto!

Narr: Furtrace stood glued to the spot as one of Marsh’s security guards…or whatever…stepped up to the podium and took Marsh’s ear for a minute. Marsh’s face dropped and almost darkened. He grew a great snarl on his face, and spoke harshly into the microphone.

Marsh: America. It appears that you are just as stupid and pathetic as I’d suspected. You have actually voted in a naïve child as your President. And here I was thanking you from the bottom of my heart so profusely. No matter. Your meager votes mean nothing to me. Exactly three weeks from today, the stars will align and The Great One will arise from his slumber and take over your pathetic country and your stupid planet, and you shall all bow to the greatest god that ever was!

Narr: Every slimy, scaly member of the audience drew out a large golden trident, seemingly from nowhere, and raised it into the air as they cheered even louder than before. Furtrace regained the ability to move, and scampered back around the building. Not knowing exactly where they were inside the building, he incanted a quick spell-

Furtrace: (cat noises)

Narr: -and skitted right through the wall, and coincidentally into a large office full of Flashpack members.

Max: Furtrace! Did you figure out what spell the audience is under?

Furtrace: They’re fish!

Molly: What!?

Furtrace: Jimmy won the election, and Marsh is mad, and his fishy followers have big tridents, and I think they want to KILL US!!

Molly: Elder gods…fish people?? Are they Deep Ones?!

Furtrace: He said The Great One was coming and the stars were aligning!

Keane: Why was he giving the million-hour speech?

Furtrace: I think he was just too confident that he’d won. But we need to hurry, I think they’re coming back in!

Jimmy: I won?

Slotter: You won!

Jimmy: I won!

Max: Guys! Jumping for joy later, escaping certain painful terrible death now!

Narr: The ‘Pack headed for the door, but when they opened it they were faced with a grinning Senator Marsh and several fish-people sans glamour but with tridents – tridents pointed right at their heads. Is the charming Senator Marsh actually a servant of the one and only Cthulhu? Will the ‘Pack make it out alive? Will Jimmy be able to take office? Tune in next week for Strange Eons.