This Author anon would like to apologise for the delay! I hope this is kind of what you had in mind; I warn you now though that I don't really do short stories, so expect this to go for a little bit.
It's All About The Delivery (1a/?)
The newly sworn in Prime Minister of Canada was finally, blissfully, alone. Ever since he found out that his party had won the election, thereby meaning that he had won the election, he'd been constantly surrounded by people. For the most part it was fellow party members and the press but on the odd chances he'd had to escape those it was then the time of family or friends or whoever the hell who claimed to know him from somewhere and sometime wishing him well and treating him to drinks and food.
Not that he minded the latter ones, of course. But he'd become so swept up in the predictable euphoria and action that what had just happened hadn't quite sunken in yet. He had won the general election. He'd won. He was Prime Minister; the guy in control, the one in the big chair.
Leaning against the wall in his office he let out a shaky breath and ran a trembling hand through his hair, allowing a smile of disbelief to show for the first time. The front of confidence and professionalism he'd been wearing for the past few days which a politician needed to have slipped so dramatically that he honestly felt as though he could start jumping about the room and cheering with his huge child-like grin plastered on his face.
But, he restrained himself to a small mini fist-pump before patting his cheeks, just to make sure he still wasn't dreaming, and then crossing the room to the desk in the centre.
'This is my chair.' He said to himself, quietly, with a big smile that he finally managed to smooth down into a politician's smirk. He eased himself into the chair, flicked his wrists to pull his sleeves up and drew himself to the desk before clasping his hands together and resting them on the wood, bouncing them slightly. 'I am the Prime Minister of Canada.'
Shaking his head with a chuckle, he reached forwards and fiddled with the expensive pen holder in front of him, filled with pens that had signed laws, written treaties and God knows what else. 'I wonder how long it'll take for saying that to get old.'
'Oh, usually it lasts about a few weeks.'
The newly instated PM gave a very undignified squawk and jerked his hands in surprise, fumbling with the pen holder to stop it toppling to the floor. Snapping his head in the direction of the voice, he found a young man with blond hair and glasses awkwardly stood to the right in the middle of the room, a patient smile on his face.
'Wh- who ar-, how long have you been here?'
The young man waved his hand, as if dismissing what he'd said. 'Oh don't worry, everyone does that. I'm quite quiet when I want to be. But your happiness is nothing to be ashamed of, eh? It's a big deal to win the election!'
The PM blinked. Finally, his brain caught up with him and he drew himself upright in his chair., clasping his hands together. 'I would like you to tell me who you are and what you are doing in my office.' Distantly he could hear himself say my office and catalogued the moment to memory to think about more later.
'Oh!' The young man shook himself and stepped forward, hand outstretched. 'So sorry, it completely slipped my mind.'
Rising quickly the PM got out from behind the desk and met him, shaking his hand cautiously.
'My name is Matthew Williams, usually, and I work closely with-'
'Ah yes!' The PM interrupted, appraising him, 'I've seen you around here before, you're like the aide to the PM, aren't you?'
'We- well yes, I suppose but you se-'
'You're rather younger than I was expecting, I must say! What, early twenties?'
'Ah, no, I mean, kind of, but-'
'Good to meet you Mr Williams! It would have been nice to have been introduced to you more formally; I hope you don't make a habit of walking in here without knocking.' The PM cautioned. If they were going to be working closely together then some ground rules should be laid out now, before this sort of thing continued.
Mr Williams frowned slightly, 'I did knock, but you see, I'm not really your aide.' He drew himself up straighter and the PM could now see that he was actually rather tall, a good half foot taller than himself.
'I'm afraid I don't have as much practise of doing this as some of the others, there's only been 29 of you, you see, and most of those knew Arthur before me so it didn't really count because they understood the concept already, so I apologise for the delivery but,' He broke off and took a deep breath before fixing the PM with an oddly serious look for such a young man, 'I'm the physical representative of the nation of Canada; pleased to make your acquaintance.'
For a few very painful seconds, no one said anything. The longer the silence went on the thicker it became and the more uncomfortable Mr Williams looked, his mouth pursed tighter and his eyebrow twitched but he determinedly did not break eye contact.
Eventually, the PM spared him and broke first, looking quickly about the room for cameras. They wouldn't try to do something like this for the TV on his first official day, surely? Why him, why was social media now such an influence? How long had people been watching him, did they see the fist-pump, oh God.
Seeing nothing that looked anything like a camera or a microphone (though he knew from his teenage son that nowadays this hardly mattered), he slowly turned back to Mr Williams, who was watching him worriedly. 'Erm Mr, Williams, was it?' The young man nodded with a jerky bob of his head. 'I uh, I don't really see the joke, I'm afraid.'
Mr Williams opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it again, looking very unsure of himself. He then took a breath, and looked back up before holding the PM's gaze unflinchingly. 'I am the avatar, personification, or human representative of this nation.' Despite the slight quaver in his voice, there was a steely tone behind it, something that spoke of strength and conviction. 'I am the land, the people and the culture. I am the economy, the industry and the history of this country; I am the soul of the people of Canada from British Columbia to Nova Scotia.'
Again, a silence fell between them, heavy and awkward. The PM didn't really know how to handle this, if he were honest; the man in front of him looked deadly serious and was watching him carefully, waiting for a reaction.
Taking a deep breath in through his nose, the PM released it quickly and nodded. 'Okay. Okay. So.' He clapped his hands together loudly and Mr Williams started a little at the unexpected noise. 'I have a lot of work to do, Mr Williams.' He looked at the young man and raised his eyebrows. 'I trust that you'll let me know if anything comes up?'
The other man's shoulders sank, making him look as though he had deflated slightly, but he nodded despondently. 'Of course... I'll be just outside, in the office on the left.'
The PM nodded at him and turned to sit back behind the desk, thus dismissing the young man from the room.
Taking the hint, Mr Williams turned and walked to the door but stopped, hand on the doorknob. He looked back and opened his mouth as if to say something else, but when he noticed that the PM wasn't paying attention he shut it again with a snap and left the room noiselessly.
Re: Skeptical Bosses- It's All About the Delivery (1a/?)
It's All About The Delivery (1a/?)
The newly sworn in Prime Minister of Canada was finally, blissfully, alone. Ever since he found out that his party had won the election, thereby meaning that he had won the election, he'd been constantly surrounded by people. For the most part it was fellow party members and the press but on the odd chances he'd had to escape those it was then the time of family or friends or whoever the hell who claimed to know him from somewhere and sometime wishing him well and treating him to drinks and food.
Not that he minded the latter ones, of course. But he'd become so swept up in the predictable euphoria and action that what had just happened hadn't quite sunken in yet. He had won the general election. He'd won. He was Prime Minister; the guy in control, the one in the big chair.
Leaning against the wall in his office he let out a shaky breath and ran a trembling hand through his hair, allowing a smile of disbelief to show for the first time. The front of confidence and professionalism he'd been wearing for the past few days which a politician needed to have slipped so dramatically that he honestly felt as though he could start jumping about the room and cheering with his huge child-like grin plastered on his face.
But, he restrained himself to a small mini fist-pump before patting his cheeks, just to make sure he still wasn't dreaming, and then crossing the room to the desk in the centre.
'This is my chair.' He said to himself, quietly, with a big smile that he finally managed to smooth down into a politician's smirk. He eased himself into the chair, flicked his wrists to pull his sleeves up and drew himself to the desk before clasping his hands together and resting them on the wood, bouncing them slightly. 'I am the Prime Minister of Canada.'
Shaking his head with a chuckle, he reached forwards and fiddled with the expensive pen holder in front of him, filled with pens that had signed laws, written treaties and God knows what else. 'I wonder how long it'll take for saying that to get old.'
'Oh, usually it lasts about a few weeks.'
The newly instated PM gave a very undignified squawk and jerked his hands in surprise, fumbling with the pen holder to stop it toppling to the floor. Snapping his head in the direction of the voice, he found a young man with blond hair and glasses awkwardly stood to the right in the middle of the room, a patient smile on his face.
'Wh- who ar-, how long have you been here?'
The young man waved his hand, as if dismissing what he'd said. 'Oh don't worry, everyone does that. I'm quite quiet when I want to be. But your happiness is nothing to be ashamed of, eh? It's a big deal to win the election!'
The PM blinked. Finally, his brain caught up with him and he drew himself upright in his chair., clasping his hands together. 'I would like you to tell me who you are and what you are doing in my office.' Distantly he could hear himself say my office and catalogued the moment to memory to think about more later.
'Oh!' The young man shook himself and stepped forward, hand outstretched. 'So sorry, it completely slipped my mind.'
Rising quickly the PM got out from behind the desk and met him, shaking his hand cautiously.
'My name is Matthew Williams, usually, and I work closely with-'
'Ah yes!' The PM interrupted, appraising him, 'I've seen you around here before, you're like the aide to the PM, aren't you?'
'We- well yes, I suppose but you se-'
'You're rather younger than I was expecting, I must say! What, early twenties?'
'Ah, no, I mean, kind of, but-'
'Good to meet you Mr Williams! It would have been nice to have been introduced to you more formally; I hope you don't make a habit of walking in here without knocking.' The PM cautioned. If they were going to be working closely together then some ground rules should be laid out now, before this sort of thing continued.
Mr Williams frowned slightly, 'I did knock, but you see, I'm not really your aide.' He drew himself up straighter and the PM could now see that he was actually rather tall, a good half foot taller than himself.
'I'm afraid I don't have as much practise of doing this as some of the others, there's only been 29 of you, you see, and most of those knew Arthur before me so it didn't really count because they understood the concept already, so I apologise for the delivery but,' He broke off and took a deep breath before fixing the PM with an oddly serious look for such a young man, 'I'm the physical representative of the nation of Canada; pleased to make your acquaintance.'
For a few very painful seconds, no one said anything. The longer the silence went on the thicker it became and the more uncomfortable Mr Williams looked, his mouth pursed tighter and his eyebrow twitched but he determinedly did not break eye contact.
Eventually, the PM spared him and broke first, looking quickly about the room for cameras. They wouldn't try to do something like this for the TV on his first official day, surely? Why him, why was social media now such an influence? How long had people been watching him, did they see the fist-pump, oh God.
Seeing nothing that looked anything like a camera or a microphone (though he knew from his teenage son that nowadays this hardly mattered), he slowly turned back to Mr Williams, who was watching him worriedly. 'Erm Mr, Williams, was it?' The young man nodded with a jerky bob of his head. 'I uh, I don't really see the joke, I'm afraid.'
Mr Williams opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it again, looking very unsure of himself. He then took a breath, and looked back up before holding the PM's gaze unflinchingly. 'I am the avatar, personification, or human representative of this nation.' Despite the slight quaver in his voice, there was a steely tone behind it, something that spoke of strength and conviction. 'I am the land, the people and the culture. I am the economy, the industry and the history of this country; I am the soul of the people of Canada from British Columbia to Nova Scotia.'
Again, a silence fell between them, heavy and awkward. The PM didn't really know how to handle this, if he were honest; the man in front of him looked deadly serious and was watching him carefully, waiting for a reaction.
Taking a deep breath in through his nose, the PM released it quickly and nodded. 'Okay. Okay. So.'
He clapped his hands together loudly and Mr Williams started a little at the unexpected noise. 'I have a lot of work to do, Mr Williams.' He looked at the young man and raised his eyebrows. 'I trust that you'll let me know if anything comes up?'
The other man's shoulders sank, making him look as though he had deflated slightly, but he nodded despondently. 'Of course... I'll be just outside, in the office on the left.'
The PM nodded at him and turned to sit back behind the desk, thus dismissing the young man from the room.
Taking the hint, Mr Williams turned and walked to the door but stopped, hand on the doorknob. He looked back and opened his mouth as if to say something else, but when he noticed that the PM wasn't paying attention he shut it again with a snap and left the room noiselessly.