The Ribald Reign of King George the Second

Welcome to the Ribald Reign of King George the Second

His father's cronies had made a figurehead out him, placing him in power while they acted as regents behind the scenes. Gosh, the party-boy prince never really expected to be made king. Why, he had heard that the peasants in the kingdom had come up with some sort of quaint invention called "Democracy". "Facts is facts", the prince said to himself. "Here I is, the son of the former ruler, specially selected by a special court out of 281 million fellow citizens to rule the country after my father's fall, and if that ain't monarchy, well gawrsh, I just don't know what is!"

King George the Second was disturbed from these thoughts, the deepest he'd had in a while, by a knock at the door. "Your majesty," said his chief advisor, "it's time for your first press conference. The king hated reporters -- a bunch of lily-livered Northeastern elites who were always busting his balls about some little policy detail, like who rules which countries. Those elite reporters could never understand the way he saw things. As king like his father before him, he understood the common people better than any newspaper hack ever could.

Stepping out onto the podium, George the Second struggled to supress a smirk. Sure all these press folk had larnin', but he had charm. The smirk escaped his control and smeared its way across his face. "First question, y'all!"

Dang. It was that smart one that raised her hand first, a former history professor or something like that. One of these days he'd have to get a tutor so he could understand what she was talking about. "Sir, how do you think that your position as the first son to succeed his father into office in modern times will affect your term?"

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

"Well, the last father and son team to reign as chief executive were the Adamses: John Adams and John Quincy Adams. John Quincy Adams stepped down in 1829, when the revolution against the English monarch was still fresh. It's been 172 years since a son of a former American ruler gained the same office. The odds of it happening by chance are astronomically small, something like one in 281 million".

"Sorry, missy. I'm not following you." The king had the feeling that she was saying something important, but he just couldn't figure it out.

"Aren't you concerned that the American people will perceive your presence in the Oval Office as a sign of nepotism, or even worse, as a restoration of monarchy?"

Uh oh. The king had a feeling she was on to something. He played it cool, like he had learned to do back in his fraternity days. "You're forgetting that I was elected," he snickered.

"Sir, the majority of the American people don't believe that you were legitimately elected. They believe you used your family's power to gain your party's nomination and to stop votes from being accurately counted in the general election. They worry that the Republican-appointed members of the Supreme Court, many of whom were appointed by your own father, voted as a partisan bloc to prevent valid votes from being counted and to select you as President. The majority that opposed your candidacy is calling you the President-select instead of the President-elect. What do you say to those people?"

That was enough. The king was done being charming. He ordered the reporter escorted out of the mansion. As she stood outside on the street, she realized that she had found her story through her exclusion. All around her, protesters with huge signs marched and chanted in unison against the new king. She saw her headline in a banner that read, "Welcome to the Ribald Reign of King George the Second!"



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