I'm not surprised if you don't remember it all; I'd be amazed if anyone today remembers, anyone alive, that is. The history books won't tell you much either, seeing as how the whole long period is so looked down upon these days. But this is how it happened, and strike me down if it isn't the honest-to-Moses truth. The whole lot of it began very simply, with - now what did they used to call it? Oh yes - "politics."
It had seemed like a joke at the time. The newly-formed Independent party had been looking everywhere for a candidate with something new to offer. The American public wanted something different - sick of the same old tired candidates with the same old promises year after year, they'd vote for anyone if they thought that whoever it was was on to something new. They'd proven that with Perot. He was far too unstable, of course. Even for national office. But every candidate the Independents had set out for the voters had gotten nothing but a resounding no. Obviously, the party needed something incredible, or the voters would stay home in droves. The Republicans and Democrats had their powerhouse players, as always. Senators, millionaires, and the inevitable incumbent. But this time, there seemed to be little enthusiasm even for them. And that's when it happened. One of the stock boys, over in back, started talking about how they could really run anyone and win this time around. That was when someone suggested the duck.
It was a marvelous idea, really; the ultimate joke. If the voters wanted to thumb their collective noses at Washington, they could do something completely unheard of. They could vote for the duck. Everyone at the party headquarters had a good laugh. But the problem with this marvelous idea was that it still seemed that way in the morning. That Thursday, they announced the duck as their candidate for the Presidency.
The duck's name was Geoffrey; he was a pet of one of their secretaries. He wasn't too bright as ducks go, but very well-behaved and friendly. And the camera loved him. So did the press. For the first time since anyone could remember, it was impossible to cover the campaign with a straight face. The refined political correspondents for the dignified old networks were wetting their pants laughing as they covered Geoffrey's cross-country trek. The tired old candidates were furious. And on election night, when they'd done all the campaigning they could do, the Independents threw a massive party, and for the first time everyone there had a happy election night. No one was watching the returns, of course; they were all too busy having fun. They gave Geoffrey a big slice of bread, danced the night away, and talked about anything but politics. It wasn't until after three that someone bothered to check the figures. At first there was a little chuckle. Then a guffaw. Then the sort of roaring, painful laughter that can only come from realizing that a duck is the new President of the United States.
Geoffrey had won by a 93% landslide. And Washington was scrambling. A duck could not legally be President of the United States. A private gag had gotten impossibly out of hand. But the voters had spoken, and Congress was afraid that to go against their wishes might provoke more drastic action, such as against them. So the Constitution was amended to allow Geoffrey the nation's highest office, with all the honors and responsibilities thereof. He got free run of the White House, full privileges on Air Force One (he wasn't much for flying under his own power), and, of course, full use of the White House pond. As for the big decisions, he made them all - and this is the genius part - just with a simple nod of his head. It was an intern with an odd sense of humor who'd thought of it all, and she'd never thought she'd get away with it, but in Washington, where every hand is tied by yards of red tape, it had all been done before anyone even realized what they were doing.
When someone did, all of Washington just went wild with protest, of course, until it became clear that the little duck was doing a better job as President than all the recent ones combined. A duck knows nothing of politics, of course, but that was the genius of it. Every crisis, every national dilemma that set the nation biting its nails was decided, it seemed, purely by chance, just with a little nod of Geoffrey's tufted head. And things were, to everyone's disbelief, working out perfectly. There were many theories about it, but most amounted to little but the suggestion that maybe the last few Presidents had been worse than anyone had thought. No one actually knew why it worked, and since they were unable to reproduce the results, they had to keep the experiment going.
So that in short is how it happened, and strike me down if it isn't the honest-to-Moses truth. That's how the old and archaic system was discarded, how the politicians went and got honest jobs and the pussycats and toaster ovens were left running the country. As perhaps they should've been all along.
Property of Orange Cow Productions. ninc., 1998. This piece may not be copied, reproduced, distributed, altered, forwarded, or otherwise worked with in any way without the express written consent of Orange Cow Productions, ninc.