Head Of State

hair. Audience members wear fingertip oximeters to monitor their emotional reactions as the candidates field questions from Gwen Ifill. Jeffrie and Cricket watch from the wings.

  Jeffrie observes Cricket, then floats a statement… "Mr. Disney told me he asked you to dinner last night."

  Cricket is coy. "Did he have a nice time?"

  "I think so. All he said was, 'Modern gals must be happy. They have no frown lines.'"

  Cricket smiles. "Some people are shocked I'm socializing so soon, but we women have to get out there while we're young and pretty. You don't want to wake up on the other side of 35 single."

  "I'm 36."

  "Exactly."

  Jeffrie lifts her chin slightly. "'Young and pretty' isn't what I trade on. I have an education."

  "I graduated Sarah Lawrence. You thought I was stupid because I was a beauty queen?"

  Jeffrie was hoping. She notices Ben coming. Cricket notices Jeffrie noticing, quickly undoes a button on Jeffrie's blouse and leaves.

  Ben walks up, reading aloud from his iPhone "'…Mr. Disney's poll numbers received a slight bump after the Supreme Court approved his candidacy. But it wasn't until Ms. Flanagan's moving appearance with Larry King that public opinion really started to turn. 55% now say they would vote for the recently-dead…'"

  Ben's attention is drawn from the iPhone to Jeffrie's cleavage. Jeffrie leans in slightly 'to read.'

  On stage, Gwen Ifill directs a question to Walt. "Mr. Disney, your world view was formed between 1901 and 1966. Are you prepared to be President in 2020?"

  Walt nods, absolutely. "I know how to avoid the mistakes of the past. I saw this country overcome a depression and two world wars to build themselves back and land on the moon."

  Gwen says, "We didn't land on the moon until 1969."

  Walt grins. "I know, but how cool was that?! I just heard about it."

  He's wonderfully likable. Jeffrie can tell without looking at the overhead monitors that the audience is on his side. Ben looks up to check the numbers; approval is high.

  Jeffrie playfully bumps her shoulder to his. "Looks like you're finally backing a winner."

  "Tumbasa would've won if I'd stayed. You ruined it, telling me my candidate was a drug lord."

  "Not that I could convince you. What did? The giant poppy fields behind his house?"

  Ben blushes. "How was I supposed to know what poppies looked like?"

  "Maybe if you'd ever brought me flowers."

  Gwen's next question draws their attention back to the debate:

  "Mr. Disney, what do you think of a woman's right to choose?"

  "Choose what?"

  "Whether or not to terminate a pregnancy."

  Walt laughs uncomfortably. "My goodness, not much we can't discuss on TV these days! I couldn't show Winnie the Pooh without pants, now they're advertising boner pills."

  Gwen presses. "Do you have a position on abortion?"

  "Well, I find it distasteful, but I don't think government should make people's choices for them. I don't like being told what to do."

  The audience murmurs surprise. Ben and Jeffrie watch the monitors as Walt's approval rating plummets.

  Jeffrie says, "The audience sample can be off by as much as three percentage points."

  A short while later, Walt is back in his dressing room, debriefing with Jeffrie and Ben. Jeffrie hands Walt a glass of water.

  Ben falls on the sword. "This is totally my fault, I'll just issue a statement saying you didn't understand the question."

  "I understood perfectly," Walt says. "And I answered." He turns to Jeffrie, pleased. "There's even a term for it: I'm pro-choice."

  Jeffrie is enjoying Walt's moxie. She looks at Ben. "Dr. Fronkensteen, your monster will see you now."

  Ben is frustrated with himself. "I thought we'd covered everything. Senator Freeken was anti-abortion."

  Walt says, "Well, I'm not him, am I?"

  "You have his balls," Jeffrie says.

  Ben clocks the two of them playing off each other. "I'm glad you're having fun. 58% of Conservatives are anti-abortion, so --"

  "Are you?" Walt asks.

  "Well, no. I don't want the government in our personal lives."

  Walt says, "A government big enough to give you everything is also big enough to take away everything you have."

  Ben is thrilled to hear Walt quoting Goldwater.

  And Walt is glad they're on the same page. "Good. Fuck the polls, we stand by our principles."

  Ben says, "We can't afford to do that right now."

  Jeffrie is no longer amused. "Oh...my...god."

  Ben throws up his hands. "I'm sorry, but my job is to get our guy elected."

  "The lying started back at 'I'm sorry'," Jeffrie says. "That first 'I'm sorry'. You haven't changed."

  Ben has a ready rationalization. "No candidate is going to have my exact views. I back whoever comes closest."

  Walt says, "I never could stand a man who'd take a position against his own values."

  "If we want to get you into office, I have to," Ben says.

  But Jeffrie is over it. And him. "You're such an asshole!"

  "You're also fired," says Walt.

  The next day, Jeffrie and Richard work from the suite at the Four Seasons while Walt hangs out. He's fascinated by an unseen motion sensor that allows him to stand across from the glass TV panel, wave his hand and scroll sideways through listings. Richard busily IMs and texts. Jeffrie types at a desk, in the same clothes as yesterday. She looks exhausted.

  Walt waves his arm. "10,000 channels, nothing's on. Here we go: In-Room Snack Options. What are Pringles?"

  Jeffrie, answers without looking up. "Potato chips."

  Walt is stunned. "Potato chips are $25?! How much is a whore?"

  Richard finishes IM'ing and turns his focus to Walt. "We've come up with a strategy: Your response to the life issue is simply, 'More research is needed.'"

  Walt asks, "Who are these people? Get them on the phone."

  Richard says, "We don't have time."

  "Then call a staff meeting," Walt says.

  Jeffrie tries to put it kindly. "That's not really how it's done, sir."

  Walt doesn't give a shit. "I didn't build a business empire by letting committees decide for me."

  Richard is blunt. "It's good to be king. But you no longer have a kingdom. You can't just bark orders anymore."

  This is a whole new dynamic for Walt. "Am I in charge here or not?"

  "No," Richard says. "But we can get you a $99 whore to help you feel better about it."

  A short while later, Walt sits at the bar with Parker, who watches the male bartender in the mirror. Parker is on his second drink and quite relaxed.

  Walt swirls his scotch in the glass. "I know it's a lot to go from dead to fully running the country in less than a month, but I'd rather be re-frozen than be a puppet."

  Parker swirls his lemon drop. "They don't take me seriously, either. I just want to make a difference for my people."

  "Do your parents know? About your people?"

  "That I'm Native American? Even I didn't know. I got one of those DNA kits for my birthday and the test came back Chitimacha. I went back 200 years on Ancestry.com and reclaimed my family name."

  That last sentence made zero sense to Walt. "Every day I've been back, I've felt this incredible wonder at all the new developments and deep sadness over what no longer is."

  Parker sighs, simpatico. "Like Studio 54."

  "I think I'm uniquely qualified to bring back what was good about this country. And spot what isn't good."

  Parker nods. "A frog dropped in boiling water jumps right out. It's an old Native American saying. Or recipe, I can't remember which."

  Walt stares into his scotch. "Did you know kindergartners need suitcases with wheels for all their homework? When did that happen? And why?"

  The bartender puts a French martini in front of Parker, then waves him off when he tries to pay. Parker raises th
e glass, "to you."

  Walt says, "Y'know, some of my best animators were homosexual. I couldn't have made "Fantasia" without them."

  Parker is used to this. "I'm not gay. I used to be. But I became straight and met a wonderful woman."

  "Are you still together?"

  Parker giggles. "Heavens, no. She was allergic to tree nuts."

  "Just do whatever you need to do to be true to yourself. I'm learning you've gotta find out who you are and believe in yourself and act on it. You know, Parker, I'm sorry, but you're gay. Just be gay."

  Parker's eyes dart down at his hands. "What?"

  "You be gay and I'll be who I am and Richard can go suck an egg," Walt stands, his will restored. "The truth will set us free. I'm running for President, I'm going to go be Presidential!"

  With that, Walt leaves. The bartender smiles at Parker. Parker hesitates, then shyly smiles back.

  Walt walks into his hotel suite and is surprised to find Jeffrie there, working.

  Walt says, "You're still here? You remind me of RoseMarie on 'The Dick VanDyke Show.' Eternally single, always wore a bow?"

  "Is that the only career woman in your frame of reference?"

  "How'd you know?"

  "I was hoping. And you compared our sloppy black intern to Sidney Poitier."

  Richard comes in from the next room. "Why haven't we issued a retraction from the debate?"

  "There's not going to be one," Walt says. "I'm not your puppet anymore, Geppetto. I'm a real, live boy."

  Richard looks him up and down. "Is this dementia? Is the body rejecting the brain?"

  Jeffrie smiles, liking this assertiveness. "Nope."

  Walt pretends to go all blinky and disoriented. "What's happening? Oh, that's right (to Richard, clearly) you're fired."

  Richard is unconcerned. "You don't have the power to fire me."

  "Then you're banned from my suite," says Walt.

  Richard says, "You are demented. Without me