[ WP ] `` So what 's the plan ? '' `` I do n't know , I never thought i 'd get this far ''

`` Sir! Over here! Sir!'' 
 
 The paparazzi scrambled, some of them on their knees, trying to get past each other like starving predators willing to kill and rip each other apart for just one tiny piece of meat. For one little bit of caloric intake that could sustain their miserable lives for a few more minutes. Any sort of acknowledgement from him in their direction would be that little bit, that one piece that gives them enough energy and hope to come back next time and suck more off him for their parasitic jobs. One look, one word, one move, one gesture, or one mistake. That is all they wanted from him, he was a God among men, and he could give sustenance to the toiling, tireless masses as he pleased. 
 
 But they would not get such sustenance from him today. Maybe not ever again if the urge were to escape him forever. That would never happen of course, occasionally he liked to give in and give the poor people something to cling to. To them, he was acknowledging their plight, showing that he cared, and being a just, charitable man 
 
 In all reality though, he was simply reminding himself who he was and the power he held over all of them. They would *wither* without him, and the smartest among the fools saw the same meaning he did in every `` charity'' he performed. 
 
 *I stand above you* The actions said, *And you're too pathetic to bring me down. * 
 
 This latest triumph was his greatest, but it would not be his last. His father, the only man he had ever felt lesser than, had once told him you had to fake it till you make it. 
 
 And boy had he made it 
 
 He stepped into the Cadillac Limousine, and his chauffeur shut the heavy, armored door behind him. With a clunk and a latch, the outside became instantly quiet. 
 
 The windows were tinted, but no so tinted that he could n't see his handiwork. The masses, his people, stood out on the street. Most of them held a burning flag in their hand, and most of those flags were replicas of the old 50-star flag. The flags' cloth rolled and charred under the heat of the flames. The ashes and smoke from the burning flags rose into the sky to join the ash cloud that was forming high above Washington D.C. from other fires. Very few of those fires were from protesters, or rebels as he would soon call them. 
 
 Behind him the steps of the Supreme Court became smaller and smaller. The local police were having a tough time keeping things under control, especially after the court's historic decision that his executive action to consolidate legislative and judicial powers under the executive branch was held up to be constitutional under the 30th amendment, which granted the President special war time powers. Of course, he had won that case the second the 7th fleet had arrived off the coast Maryland, within 100 miles of Washington. 
 
 He had all the power. Was this the end of an era? The end of democracy? Would he be remembered as America's first dictator? Or as the president who saved the nation, and then retired when he was no longer needed? 
 
 `` Mr. President,'' His close friend and adviser said after they had been driving for a few minutes, `` Or should I call you something else now?'' 
 
 He smiled, `` I do n't know yet.'' 
 
 His friend was silent for a moment. `` So... what's the plan?'' He finally asked. 
 
 `` I do n't know,'' He responded, `` I never thought I'd get this far. You know, I always thought someone would try to stop me, a Congressman, a general, a judge, but they all just let it happen. They stood behind me and clapped when I signed that order, and patted me on the back when I won the court case. Like they did n't even want to protect their democracy.'' 
 
 `` Maybe they never wanted democracy,'' His friend suggested, `` Maybe they just want to be safe.'' 
 
 He shook his head, `` You and I both know most of them do n't know what they want, or need.'' 
 
 `` They need a leader,'' His friend responded. 
 
 `` But for how long?'' He shot back. 
 
 `` However long you decide.'' 
 
 He did n't argue with that. It was true, and he knew it. Whatever he decided to do with the country that was now his, he knew that no one would fight him. No one would stop him. 
 
 No one could stop him. They'd had their chance to stop him, and now it was gone. 
 ________________________________________________________________ 
 
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