Tart Tangerine #10
So it had all come down to this. He was being fired. Oh, they left him the dignity of resigning, rather than go through the public charade of a vote to remove him. He’d tried to keep the evidence under wraps, but the decision had been unanimous. He’d had to disclose. Those bastards! Hell, he got four of them their jobs, but were they there for him when he needed them? No! Ingrates! He’d never forget this indignity.
Then his advisors started in. Best to just resign. There’d been talk of potential jail time. He couldn’t face that. So instead, he’d faced facts. He’d have to step down. It was painful. He’d worked his whole life to achieve this position, he’d worked hard to do what was necessary to succeed. And to go down over something like this? What was a little espionage? You needed information on the competition if you planned to win at this game! But they just didn’t understand.
It wasn’t pleasant, but it was necessary. He’d put his affairs in order and prepared to leave. He looked around his office one last time. God he was going to miss this room. It had been a good six years. But it should have been more. But there was nothing to be done now. Other people were in charge. In fact, here came his successor now.
This was perhaps the greatest insult. To be replaced by this twit. Oh sure, he’d recommended him for the number two job, but only because he wasn’t a threat to power. And now this guy would be running things. He shuddered inwardly.
As he walked out of the building he was reminded of a line from the movie “The Lion in Winter.”
“As if it matters how a man falls down.”
“When the fall is all that’s left, it matters a great deal.”
And with that dark thought in his mind, he vowed that he wouldn’t let the bastards see him with his head hung low in shame. As he mounted the steps to the helicopter he’d ride for the last time he resolved to give them a final parting shot of him, almost triumphant despite his defeat. So when he reached the top step he turned, flung out his arms, fingers outstretched and thought, not for the first time, “You won’t have Richard Nixon to kick around anymore.”
Then his advisors started in. Best to just resign. There’d been talk of potential jail time. He couldn’t face that. So instead, he’d faced facts. He’d have to step down. It was painful. He’d worked his whole life to achieve this position, he’d worked hard to do what was necessary to succeed. And to go down over something like this? What was a little espionage? You needed information on the competition if you planned to win at this game! But they just didn’t understand.
It wasn’t pleasant, but it was necessary. He’d put his affairs in order and prepared to leave. He looked around his office one last time. God he was going to miss this room. It had been a good six years. But it should have been more. But there was nothing to be done now. Other people were in charge. In fact, here came his successor now.
This was perhaps the greatest insult. To be replaced by this twit. Oh sure, he’d recommended him for the number two job, but only because he wasn’t a threat to power. And now this guy would be running things. He shuddered inwardly.
As he walked out of the building he was reminded of a line from the movie “The Lion in Winter.”
“As if it matters how a man falls down.”
“When the fall is all that’s left, it matters a great deal.”
And with that dark thought in his mind, he vowed that he wouldn’t let the bastards see him with his head hung low in shame. As he mounted the steps to the helicopter he’d ride for the last time he resolved to give them a final parting shot of him, almost triumphant despite his defeat. So when he reached the top step he turned, flung out his arms, fingers outstretched and thought, not for the first time, “You won’t have Richard Nixon to kick around anymore.”
posted by Anonymous at 5:49 AM
1 Comments:
I liked that line from West Wing, too. :-) Good story with a clever twist, nice work!
Post a Comment
<< Home