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129 lines
3.1 KiB
Text
129 lines
3.1 KiB
Text
.LP
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.ce
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.ps 16
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.CW
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IT'S ALL POLITICS
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.R
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.ps 8
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.CW
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tags: 1965, plinth_mold, potus, tab1, the_chief
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.R
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"What do you mean he 'runs plastics?'" the Chief snarled,
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incredulously.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Just that. There's no record of him after 1928, and then all of a
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sudden this falls into my lap. Somehow, he's taken control of half the
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toy manufacturing in America."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas Bright, Sr. adjusted his cap.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"And you're sure it's the same guy?" asked the Chief.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Proof's in the paperwork. Same investment patterns."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"But technically it's a different name."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"They're all Molds though, aren't they."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"True that."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Plinth Mold settled into his recliner, his reading glasses perched
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on the end of his nose. Not much in the paper.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Maude. Oh, Maude.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Of course, this wasn't really his Maude. Generations had passed.
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Their children had spawned children of their own. This girl... Was
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probably his great great granddaughter.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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No matter, the Molds had always kept it in the family.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Plinth Mold hadn't made love since 1888.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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He lit his pipe.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas Bright, Jr. played with his toys. Frequently, he would
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inspect the intellectual property information inscribed upon the
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buttocks of his action figures. He had noticed early on that all of
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his toys seemed to be manufactured by the same company.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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He figured his dad had purchased them in bulk. The cheap bastard.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas threw back the flap of his tepee and climbed out. The cold
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air burned his lungs, going down. He fumbled in his pocket for a
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cigarette.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Violet!" he yelled, carelessly. "When's dad coming home?"
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Never!" Violet called back.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas flicked his cigarette into the open flap of Violet's tent
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and wandered off towards the creek, where he could urinate in peace.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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An alarm sounded on the Chief's desk. He scanned the incoming
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message and reacted instantaneously, barking commands into his
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commlink even before he had fully depressed the trigger.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"Dispatching
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.I
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a cappella
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.R
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teams to the scene," he shouted into the
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.I
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aether.
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.R
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas Bright, Sr. stared out of the big the window while the Chief
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worked. He knew that their discussion had ended, for the time being,
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on account of the incoming message. Still, the situation with the
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Molds would have to be addressed, sooner or later.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I'm sorry, Tom, we're going to have to postpone this until
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tomorrow morning. The President seems to think that current
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developments within Project: BLUEBIRD should take precedence over our
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investigation into the Mold situation."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas smiled on the inside. The Chief's sarcasm in the face of
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absolute authority delighted his sense of rebellious individuality.
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Naturally, he would never reveal such degeneracy to his superior.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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"I understand, sir. It's all politics."
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.PP
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.ps 10
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The Chief listened to his earpiece for a moment and then glanced
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over at Thomas and mimed jerking off with his hand.
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.PP
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.ps 10
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Thomas nodded and showed himself out of the room.
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