Democrat

The Democratic Convention, 1992

I was inspired watching Comedy Central's coverage of Zell Miller (D-Ga.)
and his "George Bush just doesn't get it" speech. Without further ado,
Succubus productions presents:

George Bush Just Doesn't Get It, but Neither Does Anyone Else.
(Copyright 1992, Angelia Sparrow)

The scene opens in a newsroom. An impeccably groomed anchor stares into
the camera.

"Biff Studly here, CNN footnote news.

Tonight the Democratic Convention is the site of a demonstration by a
most unusual special interest group. Demonstrators on foot, some
leading what appear to be pet wolves, marched outside of Madison Square
Garden before being admitted as a delegation. Let's go now to Lacy
Lackaday live at the convention with the leader of
"The Children of the Night."

A pretty newswoman stares into the camera with small letters identifying
her as Lacy Lackaday live from Madison Square Garden. In the background
are a variety of beings, mostly vampires, but with a good-sized
contingent of weres, and a lot of shadowy lurkers.

"This is Lacy Lackaday live with the Children of the Night delegation at
the Democratic convention. The Countess E. Bathory has agreed to act as
spokeswoman for the group. Countess, can you tell the viewers about your
delegation's demands?"

The Countess is a pleasant sight in black and gold brocade. Her
ever-ready fan stands by to snap at any delegate who gets out of line. In
the Background, Zell Miller shouts "...And George Bush doesn't get it?"
The Countess gestures toward the speaker.

"That is why we exist as a body. Our demands are merely those things
needed to keep us alive but George Bush doesn't get it. He has done
nothing about the AIDS problem, the environment damage or the global
warming. We need a candidate who will promise us certain things and
carry through on his promise..."

The Countess is interrupted by the appearance of a grizzled wolf who
shifts back into his human shape. She hands him her cloak to cover the
fact that he's starkers on national TV. He says something off-mike, the
only thing coming through being "Viking Margaritas." In the background,
Miller has just finished telling about his mother making her house with
her own two hands, carrying rocks one by one, and mixing cement in a
wheelbarrow. Some of the delegates are looking toward the ceiling and
pointing. The camera cuts from the Countess and the Werewolf of London
to an airborne female figure. As it closes in, we see that she is winged
and wearing a dress of red organza.

"Hallelujah! Yore Momma's got mah Vote!" she shouts, her mild Ozark
accent becoming deep Texas, as her voice rolls through the auditorium.
"Shame she ain't runnin'."

The camera cuts back to the Countess, who is livid. The Werewolf
carefully hides a smile. A bat and a lightening bug flit over for
orders.

"Firefly, Fledermaus, get that fool Succubus off the ceiling. And tell
her if she can't restrain herself we'll send her to the Republican
convention alone."

"Kiwi and I tried to stop her," sighs the Werewolf. "She was overcome by
the pulpit-pounding charisma."

The newswoman takes the mike back. "Countess, you were telling us of your
delegation's requests?"

"Ah, yes," begins the Countess, only to be interrupted by a lucy in a
white flowing dress. "Now what?"

The lucy explains that other networks want to interview the delegation.

"Have Jim and Marius handle ABC. Kiwi and Woj are to cover CBS. Davis
and Innocent can deal with NBC. Janine and ...flame can have the
newspapers. Make Succubus do Comedy Central, if they are interested.
She deserves it after that stunt. Sealwyf is her back-up. Prepared
statement only. Tell the lucy and renfield wannabee's to leave. We
aren't making fledglings."

The lucy wanders off. The Countess addresses herself to Lacy. She has a
prepared statement on the back of her fan and begins reading from it.

"We, the Children of the Night, a not-for-profit coalition of vampyres,
weres, demons and selected others, pledge our support to any candidate
who will address the following issues:

1) Research, development and approval of an AIDS vaccine. Eradication of
the disease by the year 2020.

2) Immediate reduction of greenhouse gas production. Reversal of ozone
destruction and global warming.

3) Pollution reduction and eradication in all areas: land, water and air.

4) More space set aside as national forests and recognition of weres as
an endangered species.

5) Removal of all privacy-invading laws, including but not limited to
sodomy laws, and mandatory blood-testing.

Failure to keep any promises made will result in nastiness."

"Countess, if the democrats won't support you, will you turn to Perot?"

"We may, or we may enter our own candidate."

A wild-eyed man in tweeds, carrying a wooden stake with a wreath of roses
on it darts toward the Countess.

"Never! Over this Stakeholder's dead body!" he shouts as a pair of
lurkers melt out of the delegation and restrain him. The Countess fans
herself, gasps for breath, and collapses into Comte Edouard de Bassier's
arms. A vampire advances on the Stakeholder with fledgling making in his
eyes, as the Werewolf slits the Countess's too-tight corset lacing with a
claw.

"This is Lacy Lackaday for CNN footnote news at the Democratic
convention. Back to you, Biff..."

From: "The Stakeholder, unConventional"
<MRUPS%BROOK.BitNet@pucc.PRINCETON.EDU>
Subject: ...And now, back to Lacy Lackaday, at the Democratic
Convention

"We may, or we may enter our own candidate."

A wild-eyed man in tweeds, carrying a wooden stake with a wreath
of roses on it darts toward the Countess.

     "Never! Over this Stakeholder's dead body!" he shouts as a pair
     of lurkers melt out of the delegation and restrain him. The Countes
     fans herself, gasps for breath, and collapses into Comte Edouard
     de Bassier's arms. A vampire advances on the Stakeholder with
     fledgling making in his eyes, as the Werewolf slits the Countess's
     too-tight corset lacing with a claw.

With a superhuman strength born of desperation, the Stakeholder wrests
away from the Lurkers and tosses the wreath of roses neatly over the neck
of the hapless vampyre, who collapses on the spot. "Countess!" he calls
out.
"Your Ladyship -- Oh, dear me, I *am* sorry to interrupt -- Why, hello,
Werewolf, nice doggy, how was London? -- but, really, this *has* gone a
bit too far. Your proposals are quite laudable, even to an unregenerate
van
helsing such as myself, but a vampyre or other ungodly as President
doesn't bear *thinking* about, my dear. The leader of the most powerful
country in the world (some of us still like to think so) -- and unable to
function
once the sun rises, or unable to function the moment the moon is full,
without creating havoc? You'd have no one left to prey upon, in very
short order, my *dear* Countess, save for radioactive zombies!"

The Countess' amber eyes narrowed in annoyance, although it was difficult
to say whether it was because of what the Stakeholder had said, or of
what he had interrupted. She snapped open her fan.

"Of course," said the Stakeholder craftily, "a lot will depend upon your
Vice President, who would have to take over in such times of crisis.
Someone who is *not* subject to powerlessness at sunrise or atavism in
the bright moonlight. Someone respected, intelligent, erudite..."

     "This is Lacy Lackaday for CNN footnote news at the Democratic
     convention.
     Back to you, Biff..."

From: Charles Keith-Stanley <werewolf@VNET.IBM.COM>
Subject: At the Democratic Convention last night...

<<Wham! Wham! Wham!>> "Order! Order! The convention will be in order,"
said the chairbeing into the podium microphone while pounding the gavel.

One delegate's shout of "Cheeseburger and a chocolate shake" was unheard
as the chairbeing continued, "The secretary will call the Roll of the
States!"

"Alabama..."

"Alabama casts two votes for Jerry Brown, three votes for Paul Tsongas,
and twenty-nine votes for the next president, Bill Clinton!"

"Alaska..."

And the roll-call continues...

"New Jersey..."

"New Mexico..."

"New Transylvania..."

"Good evening, Madame Secretary. The state of New Transylvania, the
newest star in the American firmament, being tired of the lesser evils,
casts two votes for The Emperor Ming of Mongo, three votes for Sauron,
six votes for Geraldo Rivera, eleven votes for Great Cthuhlu and
fifty-one votes for our favourite son, Count Dracula!"

<<Cut to the commentator's booth: "Well, Walter, they've certainly set
the cat among the pigeons with *that* tally!">>

WONDERFULLY done, dear Succubus. Now, if you will allow me....

Un-Conventional Fluff, or, What I Saw at the Convention

New York, New York. A favorite city of the Jester, although sometimes
the best part about the city is leaving it.

Getting into the Hawaii delegation to the Democratic National Convention
had been much easier than expected. Governor John Waihee was scheduled
to speak third on the opening day of the convention and Jester had to be
there to watch. Although to be honest, Jester spent more time listening
to a segment of the California delegate chant "Let Jerry Speak!" It
didn't really matter, though, as Jester had read the speech earlier.

A quick phone call back home revealed that the University of Oklahoma
(Jester's mundane residence for the academic year) had called with his
new assignment: 2 sections of First Year American Government--one hundred

students completely at his command. Cool! (Double Cool!! It means he
can write off the cost of the convention as a business expense) As Jung
would have it, Jester hung up just in time to see Governor David Walters
(D-OK) step up to the podium. What an opening day!

Later, as the convention began to step into a nice, easy flow, Jester's
mind began to turn to thoughts of....food. A speech was going on about
how George Bush "didn't get it", but Jester was much more interested in
that cute little delegate from Illinois. Now where did she run off to....?

His search was cut short by an unusual rise in the tension on the floor.
Jester heard a few gasps and looked up to see a beautiful winged-woman
execute a perfect double loop just under the balloon-filled netting at
the top of the Garden. A crowd of media-types began moving and Jester
let himself be taken up with the flow.

He arrived just in time to hear the Countess (so, THAT'S what she looks
like) divide up the duties among the rest of her entourage (apparently,
the rest of the Cast of Thousands couldn't make it) as well as issue the
platform statement for the Children of the Night. An excellent platform it was,
though Jester knew that Perot would be no help, especially on point 5. A
candidate from the Nightside? Jester smiled. This was going to be
better than '68.

Firefly and Kiwi are also here? Jester made a note to meet them in human
form. He has always had a passion (fetish?) for redheads, despite having
his heart broken by one not too long ago. Still, he does want to get
Firefly's autograph on his copy of _Good Guys Wear Fangs_. Jester also
makes a note to meet ...flame, perhaps they'll trade backrubs during the
convention's downtime. He should definitely meet Jim and Marius (always
good to stay on the listowner's good side), Succubus (if she ever comes
in for a landing), and the others as well.

OK, now for the tough part. After watching the Stakeholder's exit with
some amusement, Jester takes a deep breath and makes his way to the front
of the crowd. Producing a black rosebud from his lapel, Jester kneels
and offers it to the Countess.

"Countess Bathory, the Jester presents himself. I have
some...connections inside a few of the delegations. How may I serve
thee?"