The Only Thing We Have To Fear

Untitled Part 1

Starting your presidential campaign speech with a rant about giant man-eating monsters that may or may not be found under your bed when you go to sleep at night is not usually a good idea. If Roman had a campaign manager, they would have shut that down immediately. Fortunately for Roman's audience, it wasn't. Instead, he went on a five-minute rant about everything from Krakens to arachnids and hastily finished his speech with "Fearing fear itself is bull****! We need to stage a coup! KILL ANYTHING WITH MORE THAN TWO EYES!" and was dragged away from the podium by Principal Schwartz as he chanted "NO MORE EYES! NO MORE EYES! NO MORE EYES!"

Any rational person would consider that campaign speech a flaming disaster. Roman considered it as such too, but not because he embarrassed himself. Roman Tally considered himself above such things as embarrassment and shame. What upset him is that not even this fiasco got him closer to his goal. Sure, it got him closer to becoming student council president, but Roman is a man of ulterior motives. This outburst made no dent in helping him reach his ulterior goal.

The high school staff didn't like his uncooperativeness and clear violation of the rules of candidacy. No words in any part of his speech should need to be censored. Roman didn't care. He knew the staff didn't like that and would come after him to have a little chat in the dean's office, but that didn't happen. As a master of evasion, he managed to slip away unseen and make it out the door without being caught.

During lunch on Monday, he paced up and down the cafeteria, too hungry to eat lunch. His feet hurt too much to sit down as he walked from one wall to the other and back again.

Roman's political adversary, a Hispanic girl by the name of Frieda, taunted him as she walked into the cafeteria with her campaign manager and the current Junior Vice President on either side of her.

"Roman, what do you think you're doing? Your campaign speech is supposed to be about what you're going to do for this school.  You're supposed to convince the student body that you are the right person to lead the school into a better future. Do you even want this position? If you don't, then leave it to the people who do!" She finished with a proud huff and crossed her arms.

Roman stopped pacing. "What?"

She rolled her eyes, not knowing that all Roman had heard of her speech was, "What do you think you're doing? Your... supposed to be about what you're going to do... You're supposed to convince the student body that you are the right person... a better future. Do you even what this position?... Leave it to the people who do." she insensitively replied, "You heard what I said."

He blinked a few times in confusion, and said, "heard what now?"

Frieda bit back an insult but still reprimanded him. "Your speech was an embarrassment to all the other candidates and what they stand for. I'm telling you to back out of this race. Now. That position is mine; you don't deserve it."

Roman put up his hand. "Look, if you're going to speak to me with semicolons, you might as well drop all the contractions."

"Speak to you with semicolons?" Frieda repeated in offended confusion. "How does one-- never mind. Just drop out of the race before I make you."

"Make me what?" he wondered dangerously.

Frieda gritted her teeth, her campaign manager took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, and the vice president awkwardly shuffled two steps away.

"Just drop out of the running," she insisted. "You're making yourself look bad."

"Making myself look bad?" he repeated cautiously. "What makes me look bad? Would this," he said, stepping up onto the nearest table, "make me look bad?"

Frieda blushed. "GET DOWN FROM THERE," she whispered furiously. "YOU'RE MAKING ME LOOK BAD!"

"OH, CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN!" he yelled, dramatically running both hands over his short hair. Everyone in the cafeteria turned to look at him. "WE LIVE WITHOUT THE GREAT KNOWLEDGE OF THE GREAT POETS OF THE GREAT PAST! LET US LEARN! LET US LEARN TO SQUASH GREAT BEASTS BENEATH OUR FEET AND LET US GROW TO BECOME THE PREDATORS WE ALL SEEK TO BE!"

This caught the attention of the security guards and lunch monitors alike. That made Roman louder.

"DON'T BE RABBITS HIDING IN THE BUSH, BUT GREAT FOXES AS THEY SEEK TO EAT THEIR PREY! GO FORTH, MY CHILDREN! BECOME ADULTS! VOTE! KILL THE SPIDERS! THE SPIDERS! THE SPIDERS!"

The first security guard was already trying to pull Roman off the table. 

"KILL ANYTHING WITH MORE THAN TWO EYES!" he screamed. "NO MORE EYES! NO MORE EYES! NO MORE EYES! NO MORE EYES! NO-- more" Two lunch monitors and a security guard had successfully managed to grab ahold of his arms and started dragging him off the table.

"Free me, foul beasts," he joked. "NO MORE EYES!"

At this point, Roman made his point. This was not making him look bad, it was making him look crazy. It was also making him look like a fun president. All according to plan.

The cafeteria broke into a chorus of "NO MORE EYES!" as Roman was dragged away, leaving behind Frieda who stomped her way to her seat in embarrassment despite not a single person noticing she was there.