I looked up from my work at the Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator for President of the United States Campaign Headquarters and was pleasantly surprised to see who was standing before me.
“Fluke Starbucker!” I exclaimed as I jumped up and pumped his hand excitedly. “I haven’t seen you since, wow. I don’t know, it’s been a while. We all thought you sold your ship to the intergalactic porn industry and disappeared. Where’ve you been?”
“Ah well, uh…” Fluke’s voice trailed off and he looked around at nothing in particular. “I’ve been around. You know, fighting the good fight, righting wrongs, tightening and loosening bolts.”
“Well that’s great,” I said happily. “Well, let’s see what have I been up to? Oh yeah, I recently stopped a Zerg invasion on Throneworld, Patricia and I had a baby, and I’m running for president of the United States as you can see.”
“I see that,” the Son of Starbucker looked around the office. “And that’s why I’m here.”
“How’s that, Fluke?”
“Jon, thanks so much for having me here and making this day necessary.” Fluke cleared his throat and appeared to be reciting a prepared statement. “I haven't been here since last time. Everything looks the same, only different. Of course, things in the past are never the way they used to be. Before I speak, I have something to say: I've never been much of a public speaker, so I'll keep this short as long as I can.”
“Ok, sure,” I shrugged.
“I've got integrity Jon, and it's something a Vice President needs to have, and if I didn't have it, well then I'd really need to have it, too. I work hard to reach goals, and if I can't reach them, I'm not opposed to using a ladder. A tall one.”
“That’s great, Fluke,” I said. “Only there’s somethi—”
“Jon, I can bring you fused spores,” the Great Flukismo continued. “And non-smooched goobers. That's right, I'm the anti goobersmooching running mate. And I doubt very seriously that any other potential VP candidate could or would offer either of those to your campaign.
“Look here: My track record speaks for itself. I'm hard on crime and oppression, and easy on entrepreneurialism. I have strong senses of pride and humor., and am glad to say that I've never, ever, ever had a monkeyboy for a sidekick. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
“And I had a Post of the Month one time, and I won Big Brother Naboo, and I happen to look pretty good in a dress.”
“Fluke, wait,” I tried to interrupt. “I just have to—”
"You see, Jon - I'm what the young kids call, uh, diagonally parked in a parallel universe,” Fluke was really on a roll now. “That is, I'm in tune with the needs wants, desires, and concerns of America. And not just the young kids either, but the ones who are of voting age. Their demographic is my home away from home-o-graphic.
“I'm bendable, convenient. I can pronounce it either po-tay-toe, or po-tah-toe, and no one gets hurt.
“I believe in weapon controls. On and off are of the utmost importance, but safety, tickle, stun, kill and disintegrate also have their place on the dial indicator of life. Without them, a multifunctional blaster would only be...uh... somewhat, er... less multifunctional.”
I raised my finger to attempt to get a word in edgewise, but Fluke was really, really getting into his presentation.
“One of the major plagues the American society faces today is on the forefront of my action items: Crappy leftover candy. I promise, that if chosen as Vice President of this great nation, I will, from that time forth, during each year of my service, on the day after Easter Sunday, personally eat the entire nation's leftover black jelly beans. Likewise, I would also anticipate being very busy each year immediately following Halloween with crusty candy corn and stale milk duds and so forth.
“Furthermore, I have metric buttloads, each consisting of smaller, handy metric buttpiles, of wisdom to share with and impart upon the American people to improve their quality of life, such as: never trust a naked bus driver, don't enter a spitting contest against a Llama, recycled fruit is not to be eaten, and never stand between a dog and his hydrant.
“Jon, you and I, together, we can make the future a better later day, right now," Fluke concluded and let out a deep breath.
“Fluke,” I fished for the right words to say and decided to be blunt. “You made a very passionate speech, have you ever taken your act on the road?”
“Uh, well… no, not exactly. What road?”
I thought very deeply about Fluke’s passionately impassioned speech. Could this be the answer? Could he be the One? Could he be the droids that I am looking for? Could he right the unrightable wrong? Dream the impossible dream? Fight the unbeatable foe? Could he be it?
Gladiator, together again for the very first time.