An Exercise in Inter-Universal Politics

After Twilight was safely deposited in nuclear bunker 74-B, the President finally sat back in his chair. Christ. This entire situation actually got more stupid the longer it went on.

The President leaned back in his chair and waited for Acone and Marshall to come back. Some part of him felt bad for deceiving the little unicorn, but, well... better she had no idea what the hell was going on than get her nose cut off sticking it where it didn't belong, right? Besides, she seemed like the forgiving type. Probably wouldn't freak out even if she did find out.

Probably.

"Ya had to lie to her?" Acone muttered, sitting down in his chair. The secret service member that had escorted him in a giant circle around the White House nodded curtly at the President and exited.

"Couldn't just tell her to leave, could I?"

"No. Would have been rude,"Acone muttered, before coughing. "Hate to ask this, but you got anything to drink?"

"Alcoholic or not?"

"Alcoholic, after tonight. Brandy?"

The President nodded and walked to a cabinet, pulling out a bottle. He slowly poured two glasses of Cognac—Napoléon grade, a gift from the French Prime Minister—and carried them over.

"Thanks," Acone said, holding the wineglass in his hand. "So why'd you call me back here?"

"Not just you," the President said, looking over Acone's shoulder. Silently, Marshal slipped into the seat next to him. Acone didn't acknowledge his presence with more than a nod.

"Hm. Ok. So why did you call us back here?" Acone asked, leaning back into his seat.

"To discuss that unicorn."

"What about her?" Marshal asked.

"You guys know her," the President began, "and, by this point, you're so deep in this shit that you're the best people I have to deal with her. So. You said she was trustworthy, right?"

Acone shrugged. "Fair as I can tell. Bit naive, maybe."

"Yeah," Marshal muttered. "But only on certain fronts. Mentioned something about her past exploits. Something about those Changelings and a wedding. Didn't go into detail."

"So she's fought them outright before, then?"

"Seemed like it."

The president glared at Acone. "Seems contradictory to your theory of friendship."

"She probably did both!" Acone exclaimed, swirling his drink around. "I mean, a wedding? C'mon. I doubt they got through a fight without some kind of 'power of love' cliche at a freakin' wedding."

Acone held his glass under his nose and inhaled deeply, then took a tiny sip before continuing. "Look, I stand by what I said. I doubt everything is as G-Rated back in her home as it is on the shows, but I bet it's damn similar."

"Or she's intentionally faking us out," Marshal muttered. "Disguising herself with our preconceived notions of what she would be like, and what her world would be like. 'Talking pony' is a pretty good form to come in if you don't want people to get scared."

"Maybe. But that wouldn't make much sense," the President said, biting his lip. "I mean, we've given her some knowledge of our military capabilities, yes, but otherwise this is an ineffective spying mission. She's found out no information about any of our advanced technologies, correct?"

Both non-presidents shook their heads.

"Good. And there's no way she knows about, uh—Well, we can talk about that once you guys have a security clearance."

Acone and Marshal shared a look.

"So there's no real reason for her to come first. If she knew about shows for little girls, she'd have to know a bunch of other shit, right?"

"Yeah," Marshal said. "I can't think—I mean, if she can get TV reception or something, she'd know about nukes and stuff. A good portion of our military capability, at least. So if she's a spy who used that TV reception to disguise herself, she's completely useless. Not learning anything new."

"Well," Acone said, eyebrows raising a bit, "she could be reading our minds, or something. I mean, she's got magic, so..."

"Doubt it," the President muttered. "Besides, if there's a race of mind-readers after us, I think we're fucked anyway."

The three men sat in silence for a moment. Acone fidgeted with his collar. Marshal smoothed a crease on his jacket. The President scratched his chin.

"So, from now on, we're operating on the assumption that she is not a threat. Yes?"

Both men nodded.

"Gotcha," the president said, taking a breath. "Tomorrow I'm submitting a bill to congress to create a new cabinet-level department: the United States Department of Inter-universal Affairs. I want you two to be temporary co-chairs."

Acone made a noise somewhere between a cough and a gasp. "You serious?"

"Yes. This doesn't, well, doesn't fit at all in any of my other departments, and I quite frankly need to do something to convince the public the situation is being handled."

Marshal nodded. Jesus, a cabinet position.

With fucking Tony Acone as a co-chair. Just his luck.

"Well, alright," Acone said, bumping Marshal with an elbow. "I'm okay with that."

"Good. We'll discuss how to proceed after that happens. Congress is itching to do something, so hopefully it won't take more than a week."

The president stood up. "Get some sleep. We got a long day tomorrow."

"A new cabinet-level position—I mean, that's the biggest change to the executive branch since we made the DHS! Nice to see somebody finally doing something about this entire situation..."

"The bill has passed the Senate by an astounding 96-4 vote. Usually, the President has nominated two people to chair it, New York Mayor Tony Acone and presidential assistant Kyle Marshal, both of whom have acted as the extra-universal ambassador's guides for the last few weeks. Although the President insists the positions are temporary, critics are saying that he should have picked somebody with a more scientific or diplomatic background..."

"Yes, Tony Acone! Tony-frickin'-Acone is now personally responsible for all out contact with the new world! Congress better not let him get too hungry, I wouldn't put it past him to swallow an entire horse, and I doubt the ambassador would be pleased at getting eaten!"

"And who's this Marshal guy? I mean, he's never been elected to anything before!"

"Still, Marshal's track record in the private sector is top-notch. I mean, what he did with the entire Groben-Zyklus corporation, that was amazing. He obviously can handle talking to people. Did it on the campaign trail enough. So I can understand that. But Acone? Acone blows my mind."

"He was decent enough in New York."

"Decent. Maybe. But he was never known for being diplomatic. Nice, I guess, but he's sorta, well, you know what I mean...."