Chapter 8: The Sky Tower Scheme
Inside the Oval Office.
I stared at the middle-aged, chubby man standing before me, rubbing his hands together nervously:
I plastered on my best game-show-host grin. "Mr. Yates, I want to build a Sky Tower downtown."
Mr. Yates suddenly looked up, troubled:
"Madam President, the Treasury doesn’t have enough funds."
I waved my hand: "Then divert military spending and raise taxes by thirty percent."
Mr. Yates’s eyes widened, hesitating:
"Madam President, this will bankrupt the people and waste money. I’m afraid it’s not appropriate…"
What a joke, I’m trying to be the worst president here. What’s appropriate got to do with it?
Besides, I’m giving you a golden opportunity! If I don’t start some massive construction and burn through resources, how will you embezzle?
This old fox, still acting in front of me? Does he really think he’s so upright?
Annoyed, I waved my hand:
"Enough talk, just do as I say. If you do it well, I’ll make you Secretary of the Treasury."
Mr. Yates’s eyes darted around, but finally he gritted his teeth and said:
"Rest assured, Madam President, I’ll do my best."
I nodded in satisfaction. Felt like I was finally on the right path to losing the country.
As I watched him shuffle out, I thought about getting my portrait painted—maybe I’d ask the artist to add flames in the background, just for dramatic effect.