The Apocalypse Club

"How about Smith, Aaron T?"

The question came from a man with a thick neck and a tight, gold, chain necklace, that threatened to break with every word he spoke. Around the table sat five other men. Only one was paying attention to him. He was short, with fading hair and dimples in places dimples shouldn't be.

"Nah," said Dimples. "Sure he's easily compromised, but he's too much of a coward."

"You got me there," Thick Neck conceded.

"How about McCloud, Jacob?"

"The one with the gay wife?"

"That's him. He's gay too. They just both prefer playing politics to anything else."

Thick Neck picked up a picture from a stack of photos. A middle aged man and woman stood smiling together. In front of them stood their adopted child. They were posing in a state park, the three of them. Just your average American family.

"He might do. What are his pressure points again?"

"For starters," Dimples said, "there's the video, with man's best friend."

"Right, right. Wasn't there something about fraud as well?"

"Embezzlement. Fascinating reading if you have the time. He's quite clever."

"Too clever, if you ask me," spoke one of the other men at the table. He was looking up from the cards he held in his hands. His face was royally flushed and his eyes bloodshot. Chronic drinking written out of every pore.

"How's that?" asked Dimples.

"He's been in the biz for too long. I've seen him squirm his way out of many scandals without breaking a sweat. We put him in office, he won't be our man. You'll see."

"He might be right," Thick Neck added.

"Probably," Dimples conceded. "Well, who else do we have?"

At that moment the other half of Royal Flush's bridge team was waving them to silence. He was the youngest in the group. Early 20's and every stereotype of the pencil pushing accountant. He pointed the remote at the TV which hung in a corner of the room and turned the volume up.

...It's just the latest in a string of terrorist attacks that have shook up the West Bank. While no gourp has yet to claim the bombing, early sources suggest radical Islamists. Again, thirty-seven dead tonight in a terrorist attack.

The Accountant hit the mute button and sat down smiling. "Better than expected, if I do say so myself."

"Get the young guy," Thick Neck laughed. "Has one successful operation and acts like he just slayed the whole damn dragon."

"Oh, cut him some slack, it was his first gig. Kid's gonna be great I tell ya'," said Royal Flush. "Anyway, we're on schedule for our apocalypse, that's what's important."

"Agreed. Let's get back to choosing the next president, shall we? Then maybe we can all go home for the night," Dimples spoke.

Everyone at the table chimed in their agreement and began throwing out names. They argued well into the night over hot wings and beer. By the time morning came around, they were all satisfied with their decision and the Apocalypse Club adjourned.