Political Posers 2 : The Return Of The Jaded

It had been a half hour since Mike donned on his full-face motorcycle helmet. The clear plastic visor had long since fogged up and I watched uneasily as he mimed being underwater. He was Neil Armstrong for the first 10 minutes before lapsing into a French accent whilst quietly exploring ‘ze reech depths of ze ocean’.
“Mike, you okay?”
“Oui.”
That’s it. “You’re taking that off now.” I reach for the helmet which was strapped on tightly to his empty head.
He waves his arms haphazardly to slap my hands away, “Stop it!”
“At least lift th’ visor, you dumb*ss. Its misted.”
Sticking out his tongue, he attempts to trace a smiley on the fogged visor, but ends up leaving a diagonal swath of drool on the surface instead.
“Words cannot begin to describe how disgusting that is,” Mae grimaced. “You’re keeping that on til you go home and shower.”
“Hey Mae?” Mike’s voice sounded distant and muffled. “You ever wanted to be Prime Minister?”
“You know I did. When we were little.”
I know at least five girls in school who really wanted to be the First Female Chinese prime minister of Malaysia. And they all truly believed they would be too. I used to wonder how they’d all get to be prime minister within their lifetimes. And they would argue over who got to be First.
“How ‘bout you?”
I shrugged, “Yeah. Who didn’t? Up til I was eight actually. Ah, good times- ignorance of gender-racial distinctions.”
“Boy, you jaded early. You rolled your eyes a lot as a child, didn’t you?” Mae remarked.
“That explains why I kept having dizzy spells.”
“I’m dizzy,” Mike whimpers faintly.
I flip open the visor and shove a wad of serviettes in through the opening. “How about you, Jacque? Ever wanted to be first female prime minister of Malaysia like us?”
“Yeah. ‘Cept for the female bit or the Malaysian prime minister thing.” He paused and furrowed his brow. “Actually, I wanted to be King of England. Til’, y’know- I realized Elizabeth’s too old and I look nothing like Charles.” (Author’s explanation : Mike likes Twain’s Prince and the Pauper. You should too.)
“Maybe you could be Queen of England instead,” I snickered. “I hear William’s broken off with his girlfriend.”
“Really?” Mae asked a little too eagerly for someone who sent us all an actual memo saying that she was too old for ‘all this Prince William nonsense’. She caught the look both of us were giving her and blushed, “Sorry, habit.” Used to be, if you badmouthed her Prince Charming or damage her veritable William paraphernalia in any way, she’d kill you slowly and refuse to speak to your corpse for a week. Times change.
“Times change,” I remarked. “What happened to all those ambitions?”
“Jaded and died of disillusionment and cynicism,” Mae replied matter-of-factly.
“I’m quite certain there’s a dig at me somewhere in there”
“Not everything is about you, Grac.”
“Yeah, see? When did that change?”
Mae rolled her eyes at me, “Y'think if we waited long enough, you’d die of disillusionment and cynicism too?”
“More likely you’ll die of anal-retentiveness first,” I shot back.
“Oh, dudes! Ew.”
We both pause our bickering to roll our eyes at helmet boy. “Y’know, maybe he’ll go first.” I mused. “I mean, look at the dodos.”
“I’m not stupid.” Mike counters hotly. It would’ve been a more convincing statement if he didn’t have a helmet on indoors. “I know what you were talking about. ‘Bout how I can’t be king an’ you can’t be PM like how Arnold can’t be president.”
“Astute and succinct. You’re not that dumb after all,” Mae complimented. “Good boy.”
He gives us both a toothy grin and a thumbs-up before flipping the visor down whilst humming the Darth Vader theme and breathing harshly.
“The farce is strong in that one, Mae.” I grin. “Except that Darth Weirdo isn’t quite correct. Arnie can’t be President because of nationality issues. We’re Malaysian- there’s no law that says we can’t be Prime Minister.”
“And?”
“So why aren’t there any? What’s stopping us? What killed the dream?” I jumped to my feet in the heat of the moment and gestured dramatically. “What happened to all those little girls who wanted to be PM? Surely at least one would’ve made it through the disillusionments.” I ignore the clueless group of yuppies sitting at the next table who were staring. They are fools to point and laugh. This is a moment in history. “By George, I think I’ll be PM someday just to prove them wrong. What can stop me?”
“You aren’t even registered to vote” Mae interjected calmly.
That’s true. "Oh, yeah." I’d never bothered, claiming the futility of voting for something that’ll win anyway regardless of whatever I do. “So not th' drama,” I shrugged and sat back down.
My little fit of political epiphany did not escape the notice of the café owner who’d been giving us the evil eye for sharing a small latte between the three of us. Mae drags us all out the door amidst the staring and muted laughter.
“Another shop we can't show our faces at again, huh?" I mumbled sheepishly.
“Boy, I’m glad I got my helmet on.”

(Author's note : Back by unpopular demand. Presenting- my make-believe friends Mike and Mae.)

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You know what Political Poser segments mean… SNEAK PREVIEWS!

ROAD TRIP

Super : “Hour Six”

(The camera fades in on James STILL full-tilt gung-ho singing the beer bottles song lustily)

Super : “Ninety-nine bottles later…”

James : One bottle of beer on the wall, one bottle of beer. You take one down pass it around, no more bottles of beer on the wall. No more bottles of beer on the wall, no more bottles of beer. You take-

(He stops, blinks and spaces out.)

James : Huh.

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8-BALL : The Future Movie

(Cue cari pasal music ala WWF Smackdown entrance theme. Mel strides into the smoky pool parlour in slow-mo with Seng and Anya flanking her. Take static longshot focused on them with Shark goon in foreground. Frame speeds up choppily as they approach him from behind. Goon is bent over lining up a shot and Mel yanks the cue out of his hand and smashes his face into the pool table in one fluid movement. She hauls him upright by his shirtfront till they are eye to eye. Goon looks dazed.)

Mel : Where. Is. She?
Goon : Hunh?

(Mel starts getting’ real mad now and shakes him hard.)

Mel : Where is she?! Where? Tellmetellmetellme!
Goon : Okay! Okay, I show you!

(She drops him like a hot potato and he slumps onto the floor)

Mel : (turns to Seng) See, you can always get an answer if you shake something hard enough.

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