Vibrator On A Stick

‘Vibrator on a stick. Man! I’m telling you all. Vibrator. On. A. Stick.’

Dob could not believe his luck. He made sure to get down every delicious word in his little notebook. He grinned, looked around, and saw that everyone else was grinning too.

‘The Inescapable Pretentiousness of Fiction. If I ever write a book, that’s what it’ll be called. Aw, man. I’d love to write a book. Would you all read it?’

The crowd nodded appreciatively. There was a chuckle.

‘Don’t harsh my buzz, man. I’m having a time, and I’d like it if that was appreciated and reflected in all of your… You know, reports.’

Some hands shot up. Dob wondered how they knew when was the right time to do this. He’d only been in the business a few months, and if there was a precognitive skill that reporters eventually developed, he hadn’t yet.

‘Any plans for your first week in the job?’
‘You know, I don’t like to make, y’know, plans as such. Life is like a stream, and if you submit yourself fully to its wanton ways you can end up, like, really having an exciting swimming experience.’

‘Any comment on the rumours that your new chief is someone you met… While in jail?’
‘Hey man, just ‘cos a man’s got a past, don’t mean he has to carry it with him. You hear?’

Dob cleared his throat and spoke up.
‘And what do you say to those who claim that the electorate has made a mistake in choosing you?’
The man at the lectern thought about that for a while, and answered, as clearly and eloquently as any of the other men who held the job in this century.
‘I believe it is a heroic step forward for this country and a chance to make amends to my much-aligned brethren. That will be all. Thank you.’

‘He only looked at the card once,’ someone said to Dob.
‘Yeah and it showed. I preferred him when he was winging it.’
‘I still can’t believe it, though. I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘Yeah,’ said Dob, as he sketched out possible headlines for his article. ‘He’d be hard pressed to fuck it up worse than his predecessors though. Right?’
They laughed, Dob narrowed his choice down to two.

He wondered when everyone had given up taking it seriously.

He dialled in the story, ‘Hey Fran. Right – here’s the headline: All caps, VIBRATOR ON A STICK, exclamation point, First Junkie President is elected. Stand by for the copy.’

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David Baillie is a freelance writer and artist. Born almost thirty years ago in Scotland, he now lives and works in the East End of London.

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