Fake News: Fit For Office

[ptahrrific]

Title: Fit For Office
Rating: G
Characters/pairings: Jon, l!"Stephen"
Disclaimer: Two.

For the Report characters: They and their universe are property of Stephen Colbert, the other Report writers, and of course Viacom. Not mine. Sue me not, please.

And for the real people, the poem:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.

Summary: For a prompt from sirdrakesheir, who requested, and I quote, "OMG L!STEPHEN'S PRESIDENTIAL RUN."

The quotation at the beginning is from The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe. Mirror on the AO3.


Fit For Office


The major problem — one of the major problems, for there are several — one of the many major problems with governing people is that of whom you get to do it; or rather of who manages to get people to let them do it to them.

To summarize: it is a well-known fact that those people who must want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it. To summarize the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. To summarize the summary of the summary: people are a problem.

Jon looked from the highlighted passage in the well-thumbed book to Stephen's excited face and back again. "Is there something I'm supposed to be seeing...?"

"Think, Jon!" implored Stephen — one of his favorite phrases. "This whole problem would be solved if the people who didn't want to be in charge would just get over it and run! And you know how much I hate being in charge!"

"Wait. Are you planning to—?"

"Exactly!"

"But do you think you would make a good candidate?" stammered Jon.

"No!" cried Stephen excitedly. "That's the beauty of it!"

Jon decided not to push it. This was how Stephen's reasoning usually went: technically logical, until you stepped back and realized that it was insane.

"Dare I ask what your platform is?" he hazarded instead.

"Higher taxes, free health care for animals, and forcing everyone to buy environmentally friendly washing machines," said Stephen promptly. "Oh, and mandatory same-sex marriage."

"Mandatory same-sex marriage," echoed Jon in disbelief.

"Not for everyone," amended Stephen. "I know you've talked about how you hate that. It wouldn't be that."

"Oh, good."

"Just for half the population. To make it equal, you know."

"...I'm pretty sure that's not what 'equal marriage' is supposed to mean."

"Of course it is! 'Equal, adjective: like or alike in quantity.' Look it up, Jon! In a book. I did!"

"Right," sighed Jon. "Listen, good luck with this, okay? You're kind of unelectable, but who knows. Maybe you'll actually get somewhere."

Stephen's face fell. "Well, actually, that's the tricky part," he said. "If I can get elected President, it will prove, according to the late great Douglas Adams here, that I'm not fit to be President. So of course I'll resign immediately."

"Of course."

"Which is why I'll need a good running mate. Someone who can step into my shoes once I've vacated them."

"...oh, no."

Stephen turned on his big brown eyes full force. "Please, Jon?" he implored. "You're smart, and people trust you, and you don't hold any really stupid positions on any of the issues. And you're my best friend."

And really, put like that, how was Jon supposed to refuse?