Big Convention Blowout!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mitt and party coordinators go over final convention staging plans. He’s in a current/recurrent feud with Mike Huckabee, leader of what’s considered the party’s wingnut wing, over the Todd Akins ciontroversy. Mitt threatened to take away Huckabee’s convention speech, then backed off from the threat. He ponders restoring the threat.

"We don’t need Huckabee!” Romney asserts. “I won. I’m the candidate.”

Staffers nod agreeablY. They’d rather not have Huckabee. He turns off moderates and Democrats. Behind them hangs a large red “REPUBLICAN” banner.

“I want this convention to be great!” Mitt says forcefully. The actual ruthless-businessman side of the candidate has come out. “Spectacular! Mind-blowing. Better than the Olympics! What have we got?”

“We start with a line-up of minority Republicans on stage, every one we could round up, rich restaurant owners and a couple basketball stars. They’ll be wearing 3-piece business suits as they sway side-to-side singing ‘We Shall Overcome.’”

“Perfect!”

“Then Governor Christie rips a cardboard cutout of the President to shreds. He’s been instructed to sneer.”

“Great!”

“Then we have you and Chairman Ryan flying into the arena on wires, dressed in superhero costumes.”

“I want to be Batman,” Romney suggests to them an eager voice. “I’m a fan of Bruce Wayne. He’s a rich guy, like me. Ryan can be Spiderman if he wants.”

Aides type these instructions into their phones.

“Will that be enough?” Mitt worries. “I envisioned something larger than life. We have to get ratings. I wanted to blow the roof off.”

“There’s a hurricane coming,” a staffer reminds them.

“Yes, but it might bypass us,” Romney muses. “It would be fabulous if it took out the hall at the climax of my speech. Great visuals. Where’s the God Squad when we need them? Who’s connected to the Big Guy upstairs? We need the hurricane pushed our way by a few miles. I’m a Mormon. We’re a young religion. I’m not sure I carry enough clout.”

Silence for a minute.

“I’d suggest Mike Huckabee,” someone bravely whispers.

“Huckabee!” Romney thunders. “Yes. Huckabee.” Mitt chuckles. “It would come down, after all, wouldn’t it, to Huckabee!”

He uooks toward his chief aide.

“Get Mike Huckabee on the phone,” Mitt orders.