PRELUDE “Niggers die everyday in this country!” Governor Busch yelled into his telephone. “That boy was no damn Saint, so why’s everybody acting like he’s the second coming of baby Jesus?” He paused to hear the response from the man on the other line. “Ted, the kid was unarmed-“ “So what!” the Governors face was starting to turn fire engine red. “Do you know why we introduced the ‘Stand Your Ground’ law?” he quizzed the man in Washington. Of course I know why-“ “Well let me refresh your memory anyway, dammit!” Ted Busch interrupted once again. “That law is the only thing that protects the tax paying, law abiding citizens in this state from the animals!” he explained harshly. “...Now you’re telling me that I have to sit by and watch an innocent man be prosecuted in a courtroom, because he killed a nigger in a hoodie- who was probably up to no good anyway!” “Ted, this has the potential to be a disaster. The blacks are furious, the President, the NAACP, the Rainbow Coalition- the list goes on. We can’t afford to have another situation like in the 90’s with the LA riots-“ “This isn’t California! This is Florida, there won’t be any riots-“ “There will be if Zenner doesn’t at least stand trial.” The man responded quickly. The Governor sat down in his chair and began to massage his temples using two fingers. This was not how he’d expected to spend his weekend. His mistress Terrica was waiting for him at his cabin on Martha’s Vineyard, and his private plane was scheduled for take off in less than an hour. But the press was waiting for a statement from the District Attorney of Seminal County, and she couldn’t speak without his permission- he would have to contact her immediately. “This is bullshit...” he muttered out loud to himself. “...”When OJ Simpson got acquitted, the blacks partied like it was New Years Eve 1999. When Obama got elected, they partied even more...” he vented. “...Hundreds of them die in Chicago every year and they don’t even blink. But one nigger takes a bullet in my state- a justified bullet at that- and these people complain like MLK got killed all over again! Trayvon Maarten was a street thug, plain and simple. Nothing more, nothing less.” There was a pause, and the line was silent. “I agree, but we have to smooth this over,” the man finally spoke. “There was a murder, and we can’t just act like it never happened-“ The Governor scoffed. “And you think that putting Zenner, the neighborhood watchman in front of a jury will smooth things over?” Gov. Busch asked in disbelief. “Did you guys in Washington ever stop to think what might happen if this Zenner guy gets convicted? Don’t you understand how a guilty verdict will affect everything that we’ve built? Not only will the ‘Stand Your Ground’ law be in jeopardy, but all of our gun laws! Next thing you know that kids family will be advocating for gun reform, they’ll sue the city, county, and the state! Hell who knows- they may even try to sue the manufacturers of Jorge Zenner's pistol. Won’t that be something? How will our friends at the NRA feel about that?” The man chuckled. “We have thought about what would happen if Zenner was arrested- and that’s exactly what needs to happen. Now, as far as him being convicted- I have faith that you won’t let that happen-“ “I’m confused,” the Governor interrupted. “What exactly are you saying?” “I’m saying, don’t forget who put you in office…” the man answered bluntly. “...We did, your family in Washington. Now I’m giving you a job to do, and your job is to clean this up. It’s about time for you to get your hands dirty like the rest of us.” Governor Busch closed his eyes. “So let me get this straight? You want me to force the DA’s office to indict this guy Zenner, and then you want me to make sure that he gets acquitted?” He was astonished, and to him it still didn’t make any sense. There was another long pause before any words were spoken, but finally the silence was broken. “That’s what’s best for this country,” the man told him smugly. “I’m so glad that you were paying attention, I guess you’re not as dumb as you look- maybe that apple didn’t fall too far from the tree after all.” He said sarcastically right before disconnecting the phone call. When the line went dead, the Governor dropped the phone back onto his desk. His weekend plans were ruined, and now suddenly things had taken a drastic turn. It didn’t look as if he’d make his flight to Nantucket this weekend, because now he had work to do. He let out a deep sigh, stress beginning to set in because he didn’t even know where to start. All he knew was that first he needed a drink. He stood up, went straight for the mini-bar in his office and started to pour himself a shot. As he held the bottle he reconsidered, and instead of using the shot glass, he tilted his head back and took a long gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle. He couldn’t believe his luck.
No Justice No Peace: Trayvon's Revenge
Available for Download February 26, 2014
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