I love the smell of Washington DC at night. Most nights, the smog is so thick it’s hard to breathe. You can’t see five feet ahead of you. I love it. I love the smog. It shows my winning track record. It’s proof that I’m a winner. 

 

It’s a cold December evening and it’s thicker than usual. My belly is full and I couldn't be happier. I skip along the cobblestone sidewalk. It hurts my ankle but it's worth it. Passing a street lamp lighter, I jeer at him “Well done, my good man. You are the lifeblood of America. Keep up the good work.” He gives me a side look while quietly insulting my weight. I laugh of course. Loud enough for him to hear. I want to make sure he hears me. He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know what I’ve done for him. That’s how it’s supposed to be. He shouldn’t know. Men like him should never know who I am.

 

I walk into the office of Mick McConnor. He's a Senator who recently lost his last election and has another month in office. I’ve had meetings like this a million times before. It always gets my heart pounding. It makes life feel more real for me. I can feel everything. I can taste victory before the battle has started.

 

The Senator’s assistant leads me into his office. Senator McConnor is standing behind his desk. He faces his back to me as he packs up his office. Filling a box with the contents of his shelves. I’ve seen this tactic before. He’s pretending not to be interested in talking to me. But of course he’s interested. He wouldn’t have agreed to this meeting if he wasn’t. No matter how clever these Senators think they are, I can always see through them. 

 

“Hello, former Senator McConnor,” I say.

 

The Senator continues packing. “I’m still a Senator, Mr. DeSalva. At least until January.” 

 

“Yes, of course,” I apologize. “How reckless of me. I see that you’re busy packing your books. It must be hard to read the book titles with just the gas light. Perhaps you should turn on a light bulb.”

 

The Senator half turns to me before continuing to pack. I’m getting under his skin. “This building doesn’t have electricity yet.”

 

“Oh yes, of course. How silly of me,” I reply “The Russel building doesn’t have electricity. I seem to be making many mistakes today. I think you can understand my confusion, Senator. You tried so hard to get America to accept electricity. I just assumed that you got your own office building electrified.”

 

In frustration, the Senator drops the books he’s holding. “You don't have to pretend. You threatened to cut funding to any Senator who supported electrifying the Russel building. There’s no need to be coy. You’re horrible at it.”

 

“I should remind you that you were the only Republican Senator who supported electrifying it. You decided to betray your own party. To side with the Democrats. The Democrats? I feel sick just saying that.”

 

“Is there something you want, Mr. DeSalva? Or are you just here to dance on my grave?”

 

“Please, Senator, we’re fast friends at this point. After all we’ve been through together, please call me Adam.”

 

“What do you want, Mr. DeSalva?”

 

“Well, Sir, I’m here to ask you to play a game.”

 

The Senator turns to face me. “What are you talking about?” 

 

“A game, Senator”

 

“You’re coming to see a sitting US Senator and you want to play a game?”

 

“A sitting Senator for one more month, and yes sir, that's right.”

 

“I think our time is done. You can see yourself out,” he snarls. He walks out from behind his desk, towards me. He stops just a yard from me, resting his hands on his sides and grinding his teeth. A power pose. He's trying to intimidate me. 

 

“Oh, but I think you'll like this game. You’re a man who wants proof. Facts. Evidence. Things you think I hate. I want to give you a chance to use evidence to prove me wrong.”

...

​