Signed, Sealed
and Delivered
by Rick Tornello
To
his trusted family members he laments, “I am
smart, very smart. I am wealthy beyond most. I
work the system better than anyone. I have
soldiers, my lawyers and politicians in my back
pocket. I have almost everything I could want.”
“Daddy what else could you need? We’re
wealthy and healthy. No one messes with us.
Seriously what?” replies his daughter.
His sons and other relations look on. Most are
wondering what now?
“I’ve said it before, I’d like to
run the country.”
“But you do in a fashion,” his wife
replies. She does not like where this is going.
He states with emphasis and finality, “I
want to be president of the USA, not just my
organizations. I want the whole god damned thing.
But as it stands now the laws of the land, this
stupid constitution and congress are all in my
way. Only by luck or,” he hesitates, and
laughs, “the devil could I get this.”
His wife blanches, “Don’t even say that.
That’s evil beyond measure.” She shakes
her head in disgust. He’s such a pig and I
married him.
His family nods in agreement. They know where
their bread is buttered.
He looks at his wife and answers belittling her,
“The Devil, all that stuff you picked up
from your stupid catholic brainwashing. That’s
just so many fairy tales designed to keep people
like you in line. Fuck that. Please, this is the
real world. Did any of the great leaders back
down when it came time to make the move? If they
did they’re not in the history books or if
they are, it’s not as winners; that I can
assure you. I really want this.”
“Our lives will be picked apart,” she
retorts hoping against hope that some modicum of
self respect will present a viable thought to the
man she knows has no understanding of humility,
of dignity or pride.
Only his daughter can speak to him like that and
she is silent.
He yells, “Just shut up. What do you know? I
pulled you out of that shit job and made you who
you are. Pride? Fuck pride.”
The rest of the family bite their lips, look down
or up at the ceiling. No one wants to go eye to
eye with him. He’s a monster when he’s
like this.
Months later:
In a private section of a large ballroom, in a
high rise office building in NYC; the possible
presumptive candidate states to one of his guests,
“So you’re for real? Of all the things
on this planet. Now that’s pretty funny.
What can I do for you?”
His guest is well dressed, elegant by any
standard, taller than the candidate by a few
inches, nicely tanned and very muscular even
through the exquisite silk suit. He replies,
“First, I got in here and I’m sitting
right next to you. And I am not on the guest list
either. Am I not correct? No sir it’s what
can and what may I do for you. You’ve asked
for my help a few times, in the past. This time I
decided the time was good and proper. So I ask
again, what can and what may I do for you?”
He smiles slightly and nods his head as an
acknowledgement of the great mans’ position
and ego.
The presumptive candidate looks about and laughs
and then lowers his voice and says, “We both
know I can’t win the nomination no less an
election. Win me the nomination and then we will
discuss what I want and what you need in return.
You prove to me who and what you are and then
maybe we can come to some sort of bargain. As for
sneaking into here, I’ll make sure that
doesn’t happen again, in case you are not
who you appear to be.”
His guest looks at him closely. He knows this man
cannot be trusted, verbally or on paper. He
laughs to himself. He extends his well manicured
finely shaped hand, a strong hand that appears to
be able to stretch more than an octave on a piano
and receives the presumptive candidate’s
manicured fat stubby hand in return. “An
agreement has been joined.”
“An agreement has been joined. This offer is
a free no obligation trial designed to show you
what I am able to accomplish. I will put my
players at your committees’ disposal. You
will know some of them. You have done business
with quite a few, especially from Eastern Europe
and Asia. Once your free wish is delivered I will
be back and we will sit down and go over what I
want from you in return for your greatest and
even secret desires. I can be reached in a
similar manner as before, just call on me. You
will be able to keep your nomination as an added
gift.”
A year later:
The presidential candidate turns to all his
guests and calls out, “Everyone leave the
room. My guest and I have business to discuss.”
He points to a gentleman no one seems to know or
acknowledge knowing.
His guest offers a slight bow to the other guests
and says in a low calm and powerful voice, “Thank
you, this is a private discussion. I will be glad
to make your acquaintances at a later date I’m
sure.”
The ballroom empties quickly, some seeming to
disappear into thin air. But no one is alarmed.
Those that would have been were led away earlier.
And those left are the tools of both these powers.
The presidential candidate takes command of the
situation and states firmly, “We have a deal
to broker you and I. Please sit and enjoy my
lavish table for your delight. You see what I can
do here and now. Isn’t this grand? Isn’t
this great?
“You came to me and offered up what I have
yet to achieve and desire more than life itself.
I did some research and I understand all you seem
to want is my soul.” He spreads his arms
wide and looks about with a sly quizzical grin
and continues, “All this and more so to
speak, all for my soul?” In his head he is
thinking this guy is weak. I’m stealing this.
This is better than the casino deals in New
Jersey. “Seriously?”
His guest smiles a broad real smile and instructs
the candidate, “First sit down and relax.”
Then after the candidate sits leaning back
knowing he’s got this wrapped up, barely
listens to his guest. His mind is on the thought
of the prize.
His guest continues, “Keep your soul, I don’t
need it.” And the looking down just a bit,
smiling slightly, carefully slices an apple with
his golden stiletto.
The Candidate yells, “What do you mean keep
it? Isn’t that the usual bargain? I am way
smarter than those others. Don’t try and
fool me. What else could you possibly want? Are
you backing out now? Don’t fuck with me. You
know who I am!”
The Master of the dark stands up. He walks around
as if pondering the question. He then turns and
move quickly and silently, oh so very close into
the candidate’s personal space and whispers,
“Greater value is in my bet. I always mean
what I state. Giving you your desires, through
and through, has a better return than you alone,
or you could ever possibly imagine in that great
mind of yours.”
The secret service agent assigned to the
Candidate has been blinded and made deaf while
all this is occurring. There will be no recording
of any kind. The Master will never ever show up
on any screen. It will be as if nothing ever
happened. Time seems to stand still.
The Candidate doesn’t even catch the sarcasm
“So you mean I can become the most powerful,
if not the richest man in America and possibly
the planet for nothing? No one does something for
nothing, not me and especially not you.” At
the same time the candidate moves back a bit. His
guest is strong and strong people actually scare
him. The Master touches something in the
Candidates mind that is warning him to drop this.
Walk away.
His guest quickly breaks that train of though and
states in a matter of fact and in a flat tone
with no inflection, “Oh not for nothing,
never nothing. To the millions who by the cause
of your rise themselves will rise to the levels
of hate and deceit pent up over the years,
especially for those I have yet a desire, a
strong desire to make my own. These souls,
especially from those who deny these very
feelings that they harbor deep within their souls,
these are the ones who will be swept up in a
tsunami of hate and deposited at my gate. That
sir is not nothing. You may keep your soul.”
The candidate sees it a bit differently. “You
care about them more than me? Then why even
approach me with this offer? Go offer them one by
one giving them what they desire and came back
with a better offer more suited for me.” He
thinks at least I got this far on a free ride.
Win or loose I’m in the history books for
good. I loose nothing. Souls, who cares about
souls? If I could buy and sell them, I would have
long ago and beat him at his own game. What a
wanker.
The Master is nonplused and continues, “But
through you alone, you the major player, an
opportunities’ wide window opening, but and
here’s my issue, only through you, can this
occur. You can keep your power and wealth. Enjoy
it. History will mark your place, maybe like an
Ozymandias or similar greats just like him with
whom I have made,” and emphasizes, “never
so great a deal as this. Here a whole nation will
be awake in their decisions bringing yet unseen
more to my gates, to my very door.”
The Candidate hears history and sees himself in
the books like Caesar. “So this is a great
deal for you and for me, and my family?” The
Presidential Candidate stops and pauses then
turns to face his guest and states hammering the
idea home, “And history too. Now that’s
a bit of something. I’m beginning to like
this more and more.”
The Master responds quickly, “Your family
must enter into it on their own volition. This is
strictly between me and between you. I’ll
even let you sleep on it. I’m in no hurry.”
He knows that this has to be consummated now but
pretends to walk away.
The Candidate doesn’t want this deal to slip
away. It’s too good to let go and responds
just as quickly, “I’ve slept on it. I
swore an oath to myself to do anything I needed
to do. There is no way for me to win, none but
one and here you are. I’m not that stupid. I’ve
made deals with worse than you. What do you get
out of this, really?”
Smiling the Master pulls some documents out of
his briefcase that wasn’t there before and
states, “I won’t lie. There is no point.
But like lambs to slaughter, sheep to be led
shorn of all and bled. Oh such a gift to me? The
nation you will control and most will fall to me
through action and inaction. It takes a big
person like you…”
The Candidate feels some hesitation. He wishes
his daughter were here. She is one voice of
reason he does listen to, once in a while.
Stalling for thinking time he questions, “Let
me ask you again, what do you really get?”
The Master looks at him and considers what must
be said. It’s all or nothing. He begins,
“I have contracted with other before you but
never with a Republic such as this. Russia,
Cambodia, China even Germany are nothing compared
to this prize. Here freely elected have more
rights than anywhere or time in history. Here the
rule of law prevails as opposed to the rule of
terror and death. That dear sir is a category of
one and you will be the one to go down in the
history books as the greatest deliver of this
prize.”
The Presidential Candidate loves the idea of a
top position in history. His heart feels like its
swelling with pride at that thought. And still he
hesitates physically by stepping back. Something,
something small keeps nagging at him.
“Oh be damned with all this worry,” the
Master laughs. “Trust me, you will have the
full support of many of those who have twisted
the teaching of that crazy Jew for their own
profit and power. Do you see them worrying? No,
of course not. They know the right thing to do
and so do you. They will give you all the
legitimacy and support you can expect. “
The Master continues. “ I have given this to
many but none like you yourself…”
The candidate interrupts, “Yes I am a big
and rich person and you are dealing with me in a
befitting manner. I really loose nothing and gain
all. Let’s do this.”
The Master tone changes after the interruption.
“Officially I must recite this to you: You
fully understand and do this as an adult of legal
age and fully competent to make, sign and deliver
upon this contract. You may keep your soul. It in
and of itself, one more or one less, it means
nothing to me.”
“Do you understand?
The Candidate nods his head.
“That’s not enough. You have to state
your understanding,” demands the Master.
“The interest payment will be more than
enough to pay for your agreement, more than you
could ever realize. Now, do you understand and
agree to what has just been presented to you?”
“I will reiterate, the key is you still must
will it, your soul, to me, and only in blood will
this contract be binding. I emphasize your blood
if and when you will it to me. I have added that
you may keep your soul. I will not claim it at
your death. Though I may do with it, assign it if
I please. But trust me. Your win will be payment
enough. Now, a drop of blood, your finger dipped
in and pressed upon this parchment is all I
require.”
The candidate can’t believe what a deal he
is making and asks again, “All you require
is a scratch, and some of my blood on parchment,
and my finger print for all this and no real cost?”
“In a word, yes. I will let you keep your
soul, a promise but you will still belong to me.”
The Master just looks at the candidate and
considers the future and hands him his stiletto.
He thinks to himself:
The coil’s trap, a whole nation
Whose banner they proudly claim under,
Under which to fall, fall to you and your
baseless call.
Keep your soul.
The interest is worth it all
And the greed to which most will fall
Trashing ignoring the papers which established it
all
It was so unique.
The Janus faced ones, a congress of fools
Hearts hardened just like the Pharaoh’s
A trade made in the past still paying
declaring one but to the opposite, their conduct
so visible, not even hidden and blind eyed all
to the greed and all power hungry drunk would
fail to miss.
The Candidate and future president breaks in on
his guest’s thought. He wants to make sure
he understands this completely. “So this is
mine to keep, this country and wealth. I need
nothing else that I now can claim as my own?”
The master cautions, “But slowly my friend
otherwise, I can’t protect your life.
Tis your soul that I would usually claim, though
in this case exchanged in a fashion, for my own
power, desire fortune and fame.
“Still be still, and be yet careful of those
about you and trust no one
Except those who too have given to me, and soon
by their acquiescence to you every demand you
will know intimately and acknowledge with a nod.
Worry not about opposition. It is a show you know.
They too their part will be played well.
The Master turns to an aide that just appeared
and quietly and unheard states, “When a raft
is punted to the other shore, and it’s task
completed, is it not abandoned?” And not
waiting for an answer turns back to the candidate,
“You know the cost, now make your judgment.
You will keep your soul. Use my knife, just a
slight cut will do. Now cut and sign here. The
country, the nation and maybe more will be all
yours. Here is my golden knife. You may keep it
as a token if you desire.”
The candidate reads the contract and nods and
says, “yes I understand.” He is
satisfied it is all that has been stated, takes
the blade, slices ever so slightly. He bleeds
onto the parchment and presses his fingers into
the blood splatter on the parchment and signs. He
adds besides his fingerprint, The World Is Mine,
Donald NUMBER 45. He takes the knife and puts it
into his pocket.
“Consummatum est” Declares the Master
in a voice that causes the future president’s
blood to run cold.
The Master hands the parchment document to his
aide who just as quickly disappears. He turns to
the future president and says, “Just call on
me when you need me. I will be at your disposal.
Now let me entertain you. Here, enjoy some of the
best in the universe.” A table of food,
drink, and women appear before both of them
treating them to every wish and whim. The future
president doesn’t drink but knows on this
one occasion he must. The future president feels
like a young man with the strength and stamina he
remembered once having. It was like living a
dream.
After the Master and his private party disappear
the future president realized that there was no
limiting time element broached or agreed upon. He
shrugs, yawns, and in a very exhausted state
declares to his daughter, “As president, I’ll
renegotiate when we meet again. He is at my call.
I’m sure there will be no problem. I’m
good at this. The country, maybe the world will
be mine.” And laughing loudly, “I
should have asked for more.” He reaches into
his pocket and pulls out the stiletto. “What
elegant knife. It’s solid gold I would guess.
Souls what are souls?”
She looks at him and smiles, “He does good
work.”
4 years after their first meeting:
The president smiles as he says to his guest,
“I knew you’d be back. You want to
renegotiate our deal, right? I’ve been
waiting for this.”
The Master nods and says, “Well, very well,
you’ve done very well for yourself. Instead
of some small footnote in history, and even if
that, you’ve achieved what only a few have
done. You should be proud.”
The president takes the bait and boasts, “Oh,
make no mistake. Proud, you bet I am. And since I’m
so successful I think a slight alteration in the
contract is in order. I’m still not sure
what you really got out of this but I have reaped
a whirlwind of fame soon to be leveraged to even
be greater fame and fortune.”
The Master shows a slight wry grin. If this were
poker it might be read in any manner of ways.
The president takes it as a sign of weakness, a
ruse.
The Master states in matter of fact tone, “A
contract is a contract and there are no
renegotiations. However only I am allowed to
modify what I have given. And I have given it
some thought it too. I would like to…”
He is interrupted by the president. The president
believes he has the upper hand. He has what this
man wants and now he’s going to call the
shots. He stands up, pushes a desk away and in an
intimidating fashion he’s used over and over
again with great success. He leans over toward
The Master and sneers, “Of course you would
see it my way. I know….”
The Master stands up and seems to grow just a bit
taller. He sighs and not wanting to be rude but
control must be maintained, and calmly states,
“I haven’t finished.” Pointing to
the chair the president just arose from The
Master demands, “Now please be silent and
sit down.”
The president is a bully and backs down sensing a
strength that he knows he will get over since he
has the upper hand not this charlatan. But no
matter he still backs down.
“Mr. President, listen to my words. Words
are important. They create a bond, an oath. I am
going to free you from your bond, your oath, but
only for you and for you alone.” And in a
voice that the president only ever heard once,
The Master states as the room shakes, “Is
that understood?”
The president is a bit unnerved but thinks this
is part of some act. “Of course I do, I’m
a business man. I knew you’d see it my way.
Now one other point I have to get straightened
out. Have you spoken to my daughter?”
Now The Master smiles, “ She is not part of
this deal. She and I have different matters to
discuss. You on the other hand are free from any
encumbrances and that also includes assistance
from me in any form.”
The president strikes back. He cannot have her.
She is his. She is family. “What did you do
for me? I did all this. I swayed the masses. I
made strong men bow to my will. I made other
countries tremble. And If I’m right I’ll
have a few more years and the world will be mine.
I signed that stupid contract. You put on a nice
light show and smoke and voice amplification, big
deal. I want her freed from any silly stupid
contract if there was any to begin with. Maybe
you had some pull, probably not. But I did this
alone,” yells the president in his familiar
boasting while standing throwing his weight about,
walking about pointing to himself. “And I
want her by my side where she belongs.”
The Master smiles. He is satisfied. Seeing the
cracks beginning he bows ignoring the demands,
“Mr. President, and so you have. I reiterate,
I hereby withdraw any obligation and support. I
have harvested a far more delicious crop with
your assistance.” He bows again to the
president. The Master adds, “Oh yes, a crop
of those who would never ever consider that their
actions played into my hands. Oh Mr. President,
you’re free, and free to get the windfall
that you most deservedly own.”
“Support my ass,” the president sneers.
“This is mine. I did this and you can’t
take it away. The deal is a deal. I’m done
talking to you. You free my daughter. That’s
an order.”
“No I cannot take what as you claim, you
created away. Nor would I ever think of it. I
believe, no I know I have more who will come to
me in the near future because of you. You have
been a great help. If things should get a bit out
of hand in the very near future, you’re on
your own. THE other power that exists and I did
have a bet on this.” The Master laughs
wiping a few tears from his eyes and continues,
“and I won this one. She may not play dice
but She loves a good game of chance. What’s
one planet in infinity? Oh, and just so you
understand and as I mentioned, your daughter?
Your daughter is mine. We made our own deal. In
time she will enjoy her new world.”
“You will free her. I demand…”
The Master silences the president with the
lifting of one finger and states in an ever so
polite and sarcastic voice, “One more thing,
good luck, you might need it. And regarding your
daughter I do have to thank you. You gave her a
very nice primer. I couldn’t have done
better myself.” He bows again and disappears.
Epilogue:
A
thought seems to pass through the minds of many,
almost a collective unconscious communication
type of waking awareness, an awakening as if from
a dream. It’s as if the targeted people on
the planet in this country realize they now
finally have what they wanted. The collective
idea expands and now they consider to how to play
the game within a legal structure they’ve
reestablished. They laughed when they remembered
Madison’s comment regarding religion and
Europe awash in blood for centuries over some GOD.
The planet hasn’t seen anything yet.
They all look at the president. And with a
collective sigh conclude, “A useful idiot.
He’s got to go.” But power is it’s
own universe and has its own rules and soldiers.
Things may get a little out of hand, more so than
anyone might have considered, especially his
enablers.
By, R. Tornello 2019
Addendum and epilog 2020
|
