Nothing a Plumber


Posted by rache on June 11, 2008 at 19:40:17:


Nothing a Plumber
By rache
Copyright 2008 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.
Storycodes: No Sex, Politics, Plumbing, Cynacism, Plagiarism
Synopsis: When politics and plumbing meet, it's business as usual.
Note: This story is loosely based upon an original idea by Khellendros. I didn't ask him if I could borrow it, I just decided to do it. -rr

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Nothing a Plumber
By rache

"How bad is it?" The President regarded his scotch, turning the crystal tumbler slowly in his fingers.

The only light in the room came from the fireplace in his Camp David study, casting the room and the President in uncertain hues of red and yellow.

"Pretty bad," the White House Chief of Staff admitted. "Wallace has been busy. I haven't seen all the information, but just looking at the names…"

He was standing near the bar and fixing himself another drink. The navy steward who would normally be doing that for the two men had been given the evening off.

"When will it break?" the President closed his eyes, wishing this business away; that it had never happened at all. But in that case, the man knew, he wouldn't be the President. He'd be just another two bit pol in a town full of them.

"My guy in Atlanta says they're waiting on Wallace to confirm her sources. They don't know what she's got, only that it's big," the man answered. "Thursday night, that's what they're looking for. They want to go prime time and scoop the networks."

"Yeah," the President drained his glass, "that's what I'd do. Three days, huh? Okay. What's the spin?"

"We get you into Bethesda, routine check-up, nothing to worry about," the Chief of Staff said. "Brian's going to drop cancer, back door it through his girlfriend at NBC."

"Heh," the President smiled. "I thought he was banging her out of love."

"What's love got to do with it?" the staffer chuckled.

"Cancer's a big bullet," the President sighed. "I'd like to save that one."

"If you want to make this go away and come out of it smelling like a rose…" his Chief of Staff held up a hand, "…it kills a lot of birds, Mr. President."

The most powerful man in the world smiled at his friend's mixed metaphor, but it was true nonetheless. Even the possibility of a serious illness gave the President a lot of clout with public opinion. A lot of sympathy and concern in the polls. It made him appear to be in public, when in fact he was even more isolated than usual. The press would have to back off a bit, being fed through press conferences by doctors, releases by the Press Secretary, and the odd leak from 'reliable sources inside the White House' …And the business with Wallace…

"Yeah," the President stood up slowly, tugging his bathrobe into place and leaving his glass on the coffee table. "That's what the country needs, right? Okay. Set it up."

"Yes sir," the man picked up a telephone.

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"Mercury Plumbing Associates! Good morning, this is Joan, how can I help you?"

"Hi Joan, this is Shep Richards, over at the American Literature Congress? We have a little problem with the pipes, I'm afraid, and…"

"Oh, Mr. Richards," Joan smiled into her headset, tapping her keyboard quickly. "Would this be at 1804 K Street in Georgetown?"

"Exactly," the man replied. "You've done some plumbing work for us before."

"I understand. I have your account right in front of me, sir," Joan agreed. "Is this an emergency?"

"Aren't they always?" Richards chuckled ruefully. "We'd really like to get this taken care of as soon as possible."

"I understand, Mr. Richards," Joan said. "I'll have a man over in…oh…Between ten and eleven this morning, is that good for you?"

"Perfect."

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"Hey there…"

"May I help you sir?" an older woman smiled, taking off her reading glasses so that they hung around her neck on a silver chain.

"I'm Dick Spanner, uh…" The man in blue coveralls lifted his clipboard and glanced at it. He carried a red toolbox in his left hand. "…from Mercury Plumbing. I have a job order here…"

Mrs. Cleary, the receptionist, put her glasses back on and leaned forward to look at the work request.

"Oh, here. Guess you'll want this too." The plumber let Mrs. Cleary take the clipboard so he could show her his MPA employee badge.

"I see," she smiled. "We've been expecting you, Mr. Spanner is it? The lavatory is up the stairs behind you, and to the left. You can't miss it."

"Yeah, I've been here before," Spanner smiled gently, taking his clipboard back.

After the man was gone Mrs. Cleary lifted her telephone.

"Mr. Richards? The plumber has arrived," she said. "Yes, he's up there right now."

Five minutes later a young man with curly hair and a large, hook-shaped nose entered the upstairs lavatory. He looked like many of the young research assistants and congressional staffers who came in and out of the building, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase as he pushed into the small restroom. He either hadn't noticed the hand printed 'OUT OF ORDER' sign taped to the door, or perhaps he'd merely ignored it.

"Oh…" the man paused near the sink as he saw Spanner working on the toilet, his tool box open with various and sundry items strewn about the tiled floor.

"Sorry, buddy," the plumber said without looking. "Gonna be about fifteen minutes."

"Hmph, I see," the man said. "I just wanted to wash my hands anyway."

"Help yourself," Spanner said and then gave a little grunt as he tightened, or loosened, or otherwise tried to fix the toilet.

"Have good one, pal," the man said after washing his hands and drying them with paper towels.

"Thanks," the plumber said, looking up only after the door had closed shut again with a sharp snick.

The man had forgotten his briefcase and it was sitting on the floor under the sink. Spanner wiped his hands clean and opened the briefcase quickly, grunting at the large manila envelope inside it. This he took, and then closed the empty briefcase and put it back under the sink as it had been a moment before. The envelope, Spanner folded in half so it would fit into the false bottom of his toolbox.

"That was quick," Mrs. Cleary said as the plumber came down the stairs.

"It was no problem at all," Spanner shrugged and he had his clipboard handy. "If you could sign here and…here, please."

"Well, thank you so much," Mrs. Cleary smiled and as the workman left she was picking up her phone once again, to inform Mr. Richards that the plumber was finished.

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Wednesday evening the top news story was the President's health as he spent a second full day undergoing tests at Bethesda Naval Hospital. A reliable source in the White House told NBC News that doctors were looking at what was possibly a benign tumor in the President's colon. Avery Sheldon, the White House Press Secretary, quickly denied that the President was anything but "…healthy, happy, and anxious to get back to work."

At the bottom of the front page of the Washington Post, it was reported that Rebecca Wallace had been found dead in her Manhatten apartment following an apparent break-in and robbery late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning, according to police. Wallace was an investigative journalist who'd made a name for herself uncovering corruption in America's national political scene and was reputedly working to confirm recent allegations of financial misconduct and election fraud in a number of 1996 campaigns, including the President's successful gubernatorial bid in his home state of Ohio. Spokesmen for the President have repeatedly denied such allegations and a recent examination of election records by an independent counsel found no evidence of impropriety. Ms. Wallace was 34 years old and survived by a daughter from a previous marriage.

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Thursday night, as the President left Bethesda Hospital with a clean bill of health, a reporter asked him how his colon was feeling. The President smiled and reportedly said, "Just great! The doctors did a wonderful job and my plumbing couldn't be better!"

The country breathed a collective sigh of relief and smiled at his typical exhuberance.


The end