《Conspiracyland》Chapter 8 - The Blame Game 2
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Honk… Honk… Honk…
A yellow school bus rolled up the apartment, squealing its wheels as it drifted in. On its sides, the words, ‘Free Food and Shelter’ were crudely sprayed on. As the dust settled, the door opened, and Jones stepped out. Fumbling in his pockets, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and blazed away.
What seemed like a pack of rodents rushed out of the bus. They were definitely not students. Dressed in filthy, sewn-together rags and dirty beanies, they reeked of booze and spit. Their hairs were unkempt and specs of dirt and dust dropped to the ground as they ran past. Their target was a rather innocuous table with a pot of soup laid atop. Fights began breaking out as the hobos ravaged each other for control of the ladle.
Jones took a bemused glance at the ensuing fights and threw a handful of change in. He walked inside and stepped into the office.
Inside, Watson was watching television. He was dressed in a red apron and looked tired. Hearing the door creak open, he turned to see Jones enter the room.
“Jones!” He said, looking delighted. “Thank god you’re here. I can’t deal with all these people.”
Jones spat his cigarette out. “Yeah, yeah. I’m back. I got the next batch.” He sniffed the air.
“Smells a bit, doesn’t it?” Watson said. “I tried giving them Febreeze, but one of them drank it.”
Chuckling, Jones sat down on the couch. “So, is the election on?”
Watson reached for a cooler and took out a beer. “Yes. Ben’s right up.” He said, offering the beverage to Jones.
“Thanks.” Jones cracked the can open. “I hope Ben doesn’t fuck this up.”
The television crackled. It was an old CRT they’d picked up at a nearby dump. On screen, the mayor’s office a couple blocks down was shown, the candidates for this election standing proudly, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Ben was looking the best he’d ever been. Normally, he was already the perfect neighbour. Now, he looked like an old woman’s wet dream. Dressed in a nifty suit, his smile swooned the hearts of many a nannies. He stepped carefully atop the stairs, standing in front of the podium.
“We practiced a lot.” Watson poured himself a cup of water.
“That we did.” Jones sighed.
“You know, Jones…” Watson turned away from the telly. “I know I’ve said this a lot, but… I still don’t get this part of the plan.”
Jones laughed. “Understatement of the year. Do you at least get why we got those hobos and the apartment block?”
“Yeah… We give them a place, and make them vote for us, right? I mean, that’s pretty simple.” Watson nodded. “But I don’t get this speech business.”
The crowd murmured. They didn’t know what to expect of Ben; most knew him as a member of their community, but as a politician? They talked amongst themselves while Ben cleared his throat.
“I’d like to begin with a thanks. To the organizers, to my fellow constituents, and most importantly, the citizens of this wonderful community- Thank you.” The crowd applauded.
“I thought that was the easy part.” Jones said. He took a big swig. “But continue.”
“We stand here, at a historical moment for our community.” Ben said, his voice clear and sonorous. “The position of mayor isn’t something to be trifled with. Only the most worthy of candidates can bear this responsibility.”
Watson raised the telly’s volume. “It’s just one part of it.”
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“Most of you wonderful people know me well as a member of your community.” He said. “I’m certain you’re all wondering what makes me stand here, right in front of you. What do I offer, that the others- by admission, more experienced candidates than I am- can’t?”
Jones took another sip. “What part? This one?”
“I know that they too want the best for our community, but I believe there is a lack of attention given to the people that supported us over the years.” Ben paused. “The elderly, and the retired. They’ve worked hard, yet they’re the ones paying the most taxes. I think that’s a large dilemma we must tackle.”
“We’re just appealing to old fucks for votes here. Demographics, remember?” Jones smirked.
“Beyond that, the current working class will be empowered. I think increased subsidies for new firms and establishments will give us an edge over neighbouring towns. I will also fight for an increase in our bottom-line; I will personally suggest an increase of the minimum wage to the state’s board.”
“Well, I did read those. So I mean, I get that.” Watson nodded along. “But it’s the last part.”
Ben started looking nervous. “Beyond that… Well, I’ve yet to appeal for emotion, haven’t I? I know that most of you know me well as a friend. A person to rely on. And I return that respect in kind; I believe in all of you gorgeous people. I know this community to be what it is; the most… Accepting community to ever be.”
“Oh, you mean…” Jones’s grin grew wider.
“I… Also wish to take this opportunity to come out to you all.” Ben gulped. “I’m… A homosexual. I know that this information will not rust our relationships; I just wished to be honest. With myself, and to you all. You’ve earned it. Thank you, and goodbye.”
The reception to Ben’s exit was very different from his entrance. Instead of an unsure murmur, the crowd exploded into a cacophony of cheers and shouts, as well as a series of groans and cracked hips from his fan club. Ben jolted off the stage in a hurry.
“That part.” Watson pointed at the monitor. “Was that really necessary?”
Jones stood up from his chair and stretched his arms. “That was a fantastic show.” He cackled. “And yeah. That was necessary. It’s called the blame game, Watson. They shit on Ben, now, and we can shit right back on them. Call them homophobes and their career is ruined for good.”
Watching Jones attempt to throw his empty can into the bin and fail, Watson sighed. “I just don’t get you, Jones. Where do you get these ideas?”
“You learn from your enemies.” Jones answered. “Anyways, we gotta go clean up those hobos. You comin’ with?”
Ben sat in a corner, sulking and drinking.
Jones walked up to him. “You been in here since the speech last week? Good job, by the way.” He patted his back.
Ben shuddered, and took another swig. “I can’t go outside anymore.” He said. “I don’t know why I agreed to do this, Jones. My mom called me yesterday. Told me she’s so proud of me for coming out.”
“Well… You did do a good job on that…”
Ben smashed his now-empty bottle against a wall. “I’m not fucking gay, Jones!” He teared up. “I like that girl down the road, you know? She congratulated me after the speech. Told me she used to have a thing for me, but oh well. Do I want her gay friend’s number? No, I fucking don’t.”
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Jones stepped back. “Woah, woah. Man, calm down. You’ve been drinking a bit too much.” He pointed at the bottle of booze lined up. “You know what? You shouldn’t take more. Here, let me help you.” He said, cracking one open, chugging it down.
Ben glared at him, eager to start a fight. But he sighed, and looked down. “Why’re you here?”
Jones sat down. “Here to pick you up.” He continued drinking. “I get you ain’t feeling too good, but we still have a job to do.”
“I don’t mean that, specifically.” Ben said, eyeing Jones from top to bottom.
Jones shirked. “Woah, I don’t swing that way.” He chuckled.
Ben punched his shoulder. “Not that, asshole.” He said. “You know what? Nevermind.”
“Ow. That’s the shot shoulder. You ready to get back to work, then?” Jones burped.
“Yeah.” Ben stood up and dusted his pants.
Jones followed. “Good to hear.” He said. “I’ve got the others assembled. Lisa’s gettin’ on the radio, and Watson’s waiting at the office.”
Jones gestured Ben to follow, and headed for the car.
The office was cramped with papers and gadgets. Watson was eagerly awaiting Jones’s arrival, nervously stepping around. From the ceiling above came the sounds of angry homeless people shoving each other and throwing bottles. He perked up as he heard the front door open, and two people step in.
Jones kicked the door in. Ben shuffled behind him, looking very hungover.
“I’m back!” Jones said. He was smiling very wide. “I’ve got our newly enlightened. Three bottles of Vodka- I gotta say, I’m proud of him.”
Watson looked relieved. “You’re finally back, Jones. Did it take long to… Uh, pick him up?”
“Nah, it wasn’t that hard. I just had to buy some cigs on the way.” Jones waved him away.
Watson breathed out. “I was worried he’d be a wreck.”
“Kinda do feel like one.” Ben said. He used the wall to stabilize himself.
“Nevermind all that shit.” Jones said. He sat down on a couch and laid his feet on the coffee table. “Is Lisa coming on anytime soon?”
Watson pointed at the radio. “Well, she said she’d be back. She just went to grab a drink after I told her you’d be leading the conference.”
Jones chuckled. “That’s mighty nice of her.” He said. He yanked the microphone from its holder. “Hey, anyone there? We’re all ready here.”
The radio remained silent, but soon after, one could make out faint footsteps.
“Quiet down, will you?” A female voice rang. “Half the base heard you. Commander Lisa reports for the… Conference.”
“Now that sounds official.” Jones grinned. ”Well, I got the point across. Whatchu having tonight, commander? A glass of whisky?”
“Spirytus. Actually. 95%. Just for this enlightening occasion.” The radio fizzled.
“What an honor.” Jones said. “Anyways, you got everything?”
The radio replied a moment later. “I think so. Is Ben there?”
A tired Ben groaned. ”Yeah, I’m here.” He said. “Not feeling all there, but I’m here.”
“It’s been a while, Ben. Any updates?” Lisa asked.
“Well, I want to shoot myself a bit more now.” Ben replied. “But no, everything’s fine. Going well, actually, as much as I don’t want to admit.”
“Good, good.” Lisa said. “Then continue. We can chat later.”
Jones stood up and walked towards a whiteboard hastily taped to a wall. Punching it, he said, “You guys done talkin’ about the weather now? Can I start?”
“Go ahead.” Lisa said.
“Well then, if I may…” Jones pulled out a black marker. “We have a problem.”
Watson eyed him curiously. “What do you mean, Jones?”
Jones started drawing a huge box, split into four quadrants. He started labelling them. “The votes. I hired some dude to do some math and shit.” He labelled them as ‘Boomers’, ‘Grannies’, ‘Kids’, and ‘Conservatives’. “Here are the four demographics of the town.”
Ben shook himself awake and took a glance at the board. “Pretty rough, but I guess so.”
Lisa chimed in. “What’s the problem?”
“Well, we’ve cornered there two markets.” Jones circled the ‘Liberals’ and the ‘Grannies’. “But the others? We ain’t got shit from them. There’s part of the problem.”
“The guy calculated that we have roughly 26% of the total votes. By the end, he calculated, these two quadrants will give us 60% of their total votes.” He paused. “But the leader right now had been climbing hard- really fucking hard. He’s at 35% now, and rising.”
“So… We aren’t guaranteed to win, you’re saying?” Watson asked.
Jones snapped his fingers. ”Exactly. And that’s a huge problem. We’re probably not gonna get a shot as good as this.” He said. “Even including the homeless dudes, we’re probably at 34%. I ain’t finished highschool, so take that as you will, but it should be right.”
Ben slumped onto a couch. ”So, what’s your point? Get onto it. I need a nap.”
“These two quadrants barely vote for us.” He tapped at ‘Boomers’ and ‘Kids’. “The thing about this town is- most of these four quadrants live separate from each other. “ He began coloring the quadrants. “So they’re isolated mini-communities.”
“And your idea is…?” Lisa said.
“My idea is… Operation Flusher, I call it.” He grinned. “We’re going to flush these two blocks away. They ain’t gonna vote for nobody once we’re done.”
“Get on with it, then.” Ben said, reaching for a bottle of water on the table.
“Sure, sure. Just savoring the glory.” He paused. “My idea is to… Poison these two quadrants. Just mildly, with food poisoning. They won’t be getting up to vote.”
Silence filled the room, broken by the sound of Ben throwing his bottle against the board.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Ben said. “You gotta be fucking joking.” He looked a lot less tired.
Watson stood there, gobsmacked. “Jones…”
“You’re not doing that.” Ben stood up, and walked towards Jones. “You fucking lunatic. You want to poison them?”
“I agree with Ben.” Watson gulped. “I… Aren’t we supposed to help the people? Poisoning them?”
Jones puffed his chest out. “Well, what then, genius? We need to fucking win.” He said.
Ben shoved him. “Yeah, but we aren’t poisoning innocent people, you cunt.” He breathed in. “Lisa, you hearing this horseshit?”
The room went silent again.
“I… Don’t think it’s such a bad idea.” Lisa said. She muttered something under her breath.
Ben punched the board, not turning to watch as it cracked and fell. “You’re joking, Lisa. Do we have two crazy fucks in this room?”
Jones stepped closer, looking annoyed. ”Well then, genius, tell me your genius plan.”
“Don’t you start, you cunt.” Ben said. He rose up to the challenge. “What the fuck are you doing here, anyways? What’re you getting from helping people? You should be working with those bastards.” He spat on the table.
“None of your business.”
“It is.” Ben bumped against Jones. ”Poisoning people? You’re crazy, Jones.”
Jones looked ready to fight. ”I don’t fucking care. I’m here to get shit done.”
“Get what done? Possibly getting people killed?” Ben’s face twisted in fury. “Do you even care about the people, Jones? Do you fucking care about anyone here?” He pointed at Watson. “Because it sure don’t look that way to me.”
Watson suddenly stood between them. He looked very scared. “Don’t fight.” He said. He blubbered his words in fear. “It’s… It’s getting us nowhere.”
Ben looked at Watson’s face. “Why’re you sticking with this asshole?”
Watson looked back. “I… Nevermind that for now.” He breathed in. “I have a proposition.”
Both of them stared at his face, surprised. “What do you mean?” They both said.
“I… I…” Watson fidgeted around. “I have an idea.” He looked determined, but frightened. “I mean… If, if we have to do this…”
Jones smacked him on the shoulder. “Get on with it.”
“I… Well, the problem is that…” He fumbled with his fingers. “We need to stop them from getting votes, right?”
“Yeah.” The three chorused.
“I have an idea to do that. Um, I’m not sure if it’ll work…” Watson gulped. “But I think I can do it, without the poisoning and all that.”
Ben looked eager to listen. “What’s your idea, Watson?”
Watson stood silent for a moment. “I… Well, they think I’m a terrorist, right?” He replied. “What if… I went with that? What if I announced a terrorist attack, on that day?”
Jones frowned. ”That… Could work.” He said, but he looked unsure. “The poisoning would be more secure, though.”
Ben gave Jones the stink-eye, then turned away. “Watson, that’s a great idea.” He clasped his shoulders. “That’s fantastic. We won’t have to resort to harming innocent people.”
“Interesting proposition, Watson.” Lisa said. She was probably rather relieved. “We could support you by hacking into the PSA system. Would make it look more legitimate.”
Jones still looked unsure. “I’m still not comfortable. You guys already made up your mind?”
“Of course, Jones.” Ben replied. “I’m not fucking poisoning people.”
“Fine, fine.” Jones groaned. “Have it your way. You better make this good, Watson.”
Watson didn’t look to happy, however.
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