Pierce’s swearing-in ceremony on the Capitol building steps was probably the worst in history. Downright embarrassing, really. More a Saturday Night Live parody than a display of political power. Naturally, no one from the Supreme Court attended. Even the lame duck sitting president didn’t bother showing up.
The president’s term in office ended at noon, but he didn’t seem ready to go anywhere. He had no legal support, either in the House or with the courts. Not a leg to stand on. Only his party’s slim majority in the Senate kept impeachment at bay, but those weekly votes to start the impeachment process gathered a few defecting senators every time. By this point, it would take just a couple of his supporters changing their minds to lose the majority, and his job.
The only thing keeping those senators on his side was public opinion. The president had always been relatively popular and, now playing the “wise old statesman” role, his public support skyrocketed. While it wasn’t terribly disturbing to the assembled congressional representatives, the president’s absence spoke volumes to those watching from home.
There were also no military bands or other traditional trappings of power. The Armed Forces, upholding an old tradition in America, were careful to stay apolitical and give no appearance of supporting any individual politician. Not a single uniform could be seen within a mile.
The security staff’s decision to limit the audience to a tiny, prescreened group of mostly second-tier VIP’s made things even worse. The Capitol Lawn wasn’t even a quarter full. The media kept panning over the small crowd and made as much a fuss over the embarrassing turnout as how not a single representative from any foreign embassy showed up. The winter wind lashed icy rain against those that did attend. Their cringing glumness made for great TV.
The cherry on top of this crap sundae was having the actual swearing in done by some retired Chief Justice. The idea that seemed so full of rich symbolism when planned in the office came across weak and pathetic in practice. The hunched over, 80-year-old in an ill-fitting suit was missing that indefinable something lending authority to a robed Supreme Court Justice.
Congress gamely carried through with the ceremony anyway. Most commentators, comedians and those bothering to watch it live had a blast with the show. Others took in the pathetic ceremony of weakness and counted up the opportunities.
Pierce’s handlers wearily tallied the opinion poll results in real time. Their career prospects sinking as fast as the numbers. Finally convinced, they made some calls to their counterparts at the White House and in Senator Dimone’s campaign office. They’d pushed brinksmanship as far as possible and probably further than practical. Time to make a deal. While they still had some marginal public support left.
In the Midnight hour
Both quasi-presidents, Pierce and Dimone, huddled around a giant conference table in the White House. The current tenant of that famous museum refereed their conference. Tieless and sleeves rolled up, they sure looked busy. Around them orbited twenty assistants, top lobbyists and no-title “advisors” doing the heavy lifting. Only after the staffers reluctantly shook hands with each other would they whisper the details into whichever Big Man’s ear they served. Seconds later that politician would formally propose the new terms, which were always met with unanimous agreement.
While the leaders of the three sides put the finishing touches on their long anticipated succession deal, an aide wheeled in a large television. No matter how hard the president tried, he couldn’t escape that damn idiot box. He glared at his excited chief of staff.
“You better be right that this guy is worth the interruption. I can’t possibly imagine how the rantings of Florida’s nutty governor can be more important than this meeting.”
His senior staffer shook his head. “Take a look, sir. It was a surprise announcement. We’ve already missed the first few minutes of it, but you won’t believe what he’s going on about. As far as we can tell, he’s dead serious! I don’t think Governor Rhett’s acting this time.” He flicked the television on and caught the chunky demagogue in mid-speech.
Florida’s Governor Rhett sported a bright red power tie and a comically oversized American flag lapel pin. He came close to pulling off the FDR fireside chat effect in his replica Oval Office. The symbolism was lost when he opened his mouth though.
“Now, ya’ll know I’ve never been a fan of the Washington regime. I don’t reckon I’m alone in that respect, but today, we’re far beyond simple disagreement over policy. For the millionth time, our supposed leaders, of both parties, have shown how utterly inept they are.
“Through their petty, childish bickering, they’ve shut the government down yet again. Every year the same games. They’ve devastated our economy, put millions out of work and made us the laughing stock of the free world. This madness ends today! It’s time to get this country back to work. Time to climb back in the saddle!
“Now, who’s going to get us there? Washington has a credibility gap so wide you could drive a truck full of lobbyists through it. In this leadership vacuum, it’s time someone stands up and leads by example. I’m afraid that’s the responsibility the great State of Florida has to assume. Not for the first time, and probably not the last time.”
Everyone laughed except for Senator Dimone. He had carried Florida by a wide margin in the election, for what little good that did him. Pierce yawned and reached for another cup of coffee. “Is this shit for real? Are we being put on by some YouTube pranksters?”
The president even grinned. “It’s legitimate, all right. I don’t know why you’re surprised. This crazy governor is in your party. Now you see the nonsense I’ve had to put up with for eight years!”
“Those rednecks down there don’t have parties; they just want to have fun. They’ll swim against any popular political current for the enjoyment of being a pain in the ass.”
“There comes a point where you can’t trust them any longer. When the regime routinely and unapologetically violates the Social Contract. All this talk about 12th or 20th Amendment issues are so much smoke and mirrors. The typical legalese you expect from Washington fat cats trying to hide their crimes. Ok, I’ll play along. They want a constitutional precedent? Well, I’ll give ‘em one. Right between the eyes! What about going back to the original Bill of Rights?
“Let’s remind those self-obsessed lawyers that: ‘The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.’
“That’s clear as day. When the central government can’t get their act together, it’s up to the states to protect their own interests. The people have to step up and show these Washington elites how to do their job. That’s why, in accordance with the official election results of Florida, We the People have chosen Senator Dimone as our next president!” The camera cut to the flag-waving crowd surrounding Florida’s statehouse.
It took a minute for the applause outside to die down. How he attracted such a huge audience at nearly midnight no one could understand. The governor’s fame for incendiary provocations always ensured a ready crowd whenever he felt like doing some grandstanding. Which was no small advantage for a politico. Most other politicians around the country gawked on in envy.
“Settle down. I know, I know. I’m excited too. It’s time for us to wrestle democracy back from those rich special interests in DC. The first step is to get those criminals out of there. Effective immediately, all federal offices in Florida that are still open will be shut down. All federal workers are hereby furloughed without pay. We demand that the Administration gives up their illegal hold on power and Mr. Pierce renounces his cockamamie scheme to seize the White House. Until President Dimone is sworn into office, we will not answer to any arm of this illegitimate Federal Government.