A bull is elected to presidency in a nation of glass-people. Chaos ensues.
“Do you, Bull Bullman, solemnly swear (or affirm) that you will faithfully execute the office of Glassblower, and will to the best of your ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United Plates?”
“Moooo.”
In the first row of seats, John Marver turned to his seat- neighbour and whispered, “This is insane. Is he even made of glass?”
His seat- neighbour, an imposing red amphora, said imperiously, “Of course he is. The Glassblower no less than cristallo, but all you coloured frits can think about is how he will smash this country to bits.”
“He’s literally a bull!”
“And you say we’re the composition-ists?”
“No, that wasn’t- what I meant was- look, just listen to him. He’s giving his speech.”
On stage, the bull was pacing agitatedly, letting out a series of animalistic sounds. “Moo. Moooo. Moo! Mooo? Moo.” Meanwhile, the translator next to him nervously stammered out the Glassblower’s words. “We real gorilla-glass men will show them who’s boss! For too long, honest, home-blown Plateans have become fired bricks due to illegal foreign ceramics coming over and stealing their jobs! I’m talking about Chinamen, Boron morons, and all of their kind. These aliens steal our jobs and our women, and take away resources from good Plateans. It’s also on our glass women too, it’s all due to their natrons. Too much flux. You’ve got to grab them by theirs…”
“He’s not even speaking coherently. And what his translator claims is clearly false! How can you believe this bull’s shit?”
“Shut up! He’s telling it like it is!”
“But… what even… whatever!” Marver got up to leave.
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Marver aggressively ate a bowl of frits as he watched the replay of the Glassblower’s speech. “I just can’t understand how anyone can find his actions and words acceptable or even consistent.”
His wife, reading a book, commented offhandedly, “I may not like his demeanor that much, but at least he cares about the people.”
Marver turned away from the TV, which was currently showing a scene of the bull making fun of a cracked reporter’s gait. He looked at his wife incredulously. “I’m sorry, what?”
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A Boron glassman smiled nervously as a receptionist glared at him behind a desk. “Get out of here, you china spy! Go back to your country!” She spat at him.
The glassman adjusted his suit and spoke quietly, “I’m also a Platean. I’m just here for an interview for a job. You could check, I’m slated for 2 pm.”
The receptionist snorted at him. “You illegal aliens should stop stealing jobs from honest, hardworking Real Plateans. You don’t have an interview. Get out of here!”
The Boron glassman had no choice but to walk out the door. As he left, he mumbled, “But I was born here…”
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“This bull is clearly delusional. Over the last 4 years he has ruined our international status, dismantled our social services, and indirectly killed-” “Moooooo.” “Indirectly killed thousands of-” “Mooooo. Moooooo!” “Will you shut up, man?” The bull, now clad in a golden cape, continued to look innocent as it chewed grass.
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The nation watched in horror as the Glass House was invaded. Devastation was wreaked as insurrectionists and guards alike were broken, all by the words of the Glassblower. The area resembled a destroyed china shop. Finally, standing atop the shards, the Bull shook glass shards from its fur and mooed calmly to his followers. “The election was stolen. Go home in peace.” Behind him, the building slowly burned down, glass melting from the fire.
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