Part 2: An Unusual Proposition

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After the rather rough initial meeting between El Presidente and Public Relations Specialist Donald Hiram, which included an armed confrontation and the cutting of a very expensive necktie, the two walked into the Presidential Palace in a somewhat relaxed mood. To call this building a palace is somewhat generous, as it was a building in so much that it had walls and a roof, but the ingredients making up the building were somewhat curious.

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The roof of the “Palace” was made from US Army surplus metal mess trays that had somehow found their way to the island, and the walls were made from billboards advertising a brand of spearmint gum. The two entered the building and sat down in beach chairs that were setup near a pink plastic “Barbie” table. Hiram looked around the room, perhaps expecting to be told that he was on a hidden camera show, but once no one materialized to do so, simply resigned himself to listening to the El Presidente.

“So, Mr. Hiram…Donald if I may, I’ve brought you to our beautiful island so that you may help us increase tourism and the money that comes with them. As you no doubt observed, we are a rather poor island, but one that suits all of us. We have no crime, no dissent among the people, and we have no pants…no, wait, I tell a lie…we have pants.”

Hiram looked at Reese and simply stared blankly, not knowing what to make of the situation.

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“El Presidente, I will help where I can, but I hardly think Birubegja can benefit from my experience, which, until recently, was utilized solely while I was employed as a Public Relations Specialist for Cute Puppy Punting Consortium…which promptly closed down two weeks after I was hired. How can I possibly help to increase your tourism?”

“Ah, my dear, Donald, I’ve come to the conclusion that all I need to do is to show you around the island and show you what we have to offer. You, my dear sir, will make recommendations to me so that we can get the ‘ol ball rolling, so to speak.” With that, El President leaned back slightly in his lawn chair, opened a compartment located within the table and produced a green plastic bottle of bubble solution, complete with plastic bubble ring. He then smiled and blew several bubbles into the air. “Oh, forgive me, Donald…would you like some?”

Hiram looked somewhat shocked and simply shook his head. “No, uh…thank you, I’m uh trying to quit. Okay, say I agree to stay on and tour your island and give you pointers where I can. Not to put too fine a point on it, but what’s in it for me?”

Bamboo Beach Shack
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A broad smile appeared on El Presidente’s face. “Why real estate, my boy! Prime ocean front real estate. Nothing as extravagant as my palace, perhaps, but certainly you will be given a nice fixer-upper to call home. So what do ya say?” He then extended his hand across the table and awaited Hiram’s response.

“Let me get this straight, I stay and offer my support and advice and you give me land and a…fixer upper, house on the beach. I go home, unemployed, with nothing on my resume but a short stint at a morally inept and now defunct organization…okay, I’m in! He then takes El Presidente’s hand and shakes it vigorously.”

Reese smiles, releases Hiram’s hand and leans back. Well, we’re on a beautiful tropical paradise, Donald, let’s start at the beach!”

(Continued in Part 3)

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Published by Alan Reese

Greetings blog wanderers and seekers of truth, or whatever truth appears to be from the mind of a warped individual. You have reached the inner sanctum of some guy named Alan. Having graduated college sometime shortly after the Earth cooled, he finds himself in his late 30's and working out in the real world. His humor is dry and his outlook not so serious and somehow has picked up the nasty habit of writing about himself in the third person. He is married with child and loves his family, sports and, of course, his beloved video games...likelihood of his growing up? Not good. Are you an established site or magazine looking for a writer? Drop me a line if you are interested.

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