[short story] Tamers of Men

…I want nothing more than our nation to prosper. Together, my friends, together we can make not only that, but bend the whole world to our will!

Dave reached for the television, turning it off as Robert Strindgestripe finished his speech. “He’s gonna be the end of us, I tell ya.”

“Aye,” Oliv replied, “ever since his wife was found dead, he’s been out of his mind.”

“‘Found dead’, sure,” he sneered, “’twas murder, I tell ya!” He leaned closer and continued, “it’s all too convenient to be a coincidence. Let’s look at the facts: 3 months ago Strindgestripe, the Minister for Arms announced that his wife had ‘tragically passed away,’ then go on to run for President with the promise of ruling the world. We always knew he’s ambitious, and his wife held him back in front of public, didn’t she?”

“Well—“

“Now he’s a shortlisted candidate with no one daring to say ‘no’ to him. What does this tell us?”

Oliv looked at Dave with a puzzled expression and uttered “that he wanted this all along?”

“That he wanted this all along!” Dave hit the wooden desk in front of him as he spoke for emphasis and good measure.

“Now, now, don’t break the furniture,” said Oliv, “’member what happened last time?”

“Yea, sorry, m’love,” Dave told his wife and patted the desk apologetically, “but what I say, you can’t deny.”

“Never said I did.” She stood up to fetch an old newspaper, “how did she die again?”

“Rumors were about falling off the stairs, so I’d say someone’s beaten her to death?”

She turned the pages until she found the announcements, reading aloud “Ruth Strindgestripe, age 37, tamer of men—may ye rest in peace.”