So there it was, I was officially on the election ballot. My therapist was going to love hearing about that life adventure.
Like any good politician, I needed supporters, so my campaign staff had already been hard at work filling my calendar with various interviews, appearances, parties, and other events. It was going to be a busy few weeks. I was thankful it was a short time frame before the election. I’d rather have been out fighting the good fight against the Amarr, but we all do what we must.
“I’m telling you, man, those two Gallente babes over there are totally checking you out.” Byron tried to say privately, but still speaking over the loud music at the party. “They all want a piece of the Roc.” He smiled from ear to ear, thinking himself witty. I swear he lived vicariously through me.
I looked towards the two ladies he was referring to, subtly of course, and had to agree, they were definitely hot, and seemingly interested. Who was I to shrug away from two potential voters? I had a responsibility after all.
I casually walked towards the two sexy Gallente capsuleers (the fact that this entire party was filled with capsuleers was more than a little unnerving), grabbing a new drink from the bar as I passed by.
I strode confidently up to them, flashed them my most charming grin, and gave a little nod. “Ladies” I said, forcing my voice a little deeper than usual.
They both smiled to each other, then back to me, their bright eyes giving away far more than they realized. The three of us already knew where this was going to finish, and I had stocked up on good breakfast foods for just such an occasion.
I charmed them, telling jokes, acting nonchalant and semi-interested, waving at passers by, enjoying the spotlight, knowing this evening was all about me. They basked in every minute of it. If it was an act, it was a convincing one, and truth be told, I wouldn’t care the next morning.
The three of us had just finished laughing at my latest witty joke when I finally got around to taking a drink from my glass. I never broke eye contact with these two beautiful specimens. That was my undoing. Had I taken a moment to be more self aware, I might have noticed that the bartender had put a straw in my drink, and as I raised my glass to take a sip, I would’ve noticed the straw going right up my nose, jabbing into the high cartilage.
I yanked the glass from my face, spilling booze on myself, and the ladies, my other hand quickly reaching up to my nose. It hurt like a mother. You wouldn’t think those little plastic straws were sharp at the end, but let me tell you, one up the nose will make your eyes water something fierce.
The two of them jumped back, bumping into others as they tried to avoid being spilled on, the sparkle in their eyes having changed from being a sure thing to a sure loss. I flushed with embarrassment, and bolted for the men’s room to see if my nose was bleeding.
Great start to your campaign, dolt.
I splashed some cold running water over my face, doing my best to look up my nostril to ascertain the damage. There was no blood, which was a good sign, but it still hurt pretty bad. It felt like an old trick I used to fake emotion: essentially I’d yank a few nose hairs out to get the tears flowing; ladies were always more likely to sleep with a sensitive man.
I laughed at myself then; Roc Wieler, Hero of the Republic, reduced to tears by a plastic straw.
My stomach interrupted my self-deprecating mockery with a sudden and serious set of uncomfortable churning. It was probably the Amarrian sushi I had been eating by the handful an hour earlier. You’d think I would know better than to trust anything from the Empire.
Holding my stomach, I raced into the nearest stall. It felt as though I couldn’t get my pants off fast enough, and believe me, I was well practiced in the art of quick pants removal. This was definitely going to be a photo finish.
Genetically superior or not, there were sounds and smells escaping me that just shouldn’t be made by immortal man. It took several courtesy flushes, and even more grunting, before I felt like I wasn’t going to pass out.
My brow was sweating. What. The. Hell.
The door to the stall burst open, inwards, smashing into my knees. A large Amarr, with two more behind, attacked. On the up side, the stall prevented more than one assailant at a time. On the down side, I was literally caught with my pants down, and not in any position to effectively defend myself.
I turned my face, trying to roll with the first punch, but his meaty fist connected like a siege cannon. Small white streaks filled my vision, and vertigo set in, threatening to dethrone me. I vomited. A few more hammer fists quickly followed the first attack, knocking my glasses free. It felt as though a few teeth had been set free as well. This was a really bad situation.
My wits returned, a few moments too late, and I fought back like a cornered animal, my instincts causing me to lash out in any way possible. I started pissing everywhere, covering myself, my assailant, the floor. I grabbed at his hair, his ears, my thumb finding purchase in one of his eye sockets, and I squeezed as hard as I could.
He shrieked, backing up, slipping on the urine, falling into his two companions, who let him crash to the floor, focusing their attention on me, pure hatred in their eyes.
One of them, I don’t remember which, leveled a gun at my head, and pulled the trigger.
The last thing I remember thinking before darkness embraced me was “People seriously need to lighten the hell up.”