127
MARK OF GOD RALLY, THE MALL, WASHINGTON, D.C.
MARK OF GOD RALLY, THE MALL, WASHINGTON, D.C.
On the appointed day, Pastor Stratton had his Rolls Royce and his mistress, Lolly Harshaw flown to Washington, D.C. via air freight. Happily, Lolly didn't know the difference between a cargo plane and a private jet.
Pastor Stratton himself accompanied his primary advisor, Ted Harper, in the luxurious executive craft. It was hoped that this might accomplish several objectives. Far most important of them was that the little jet's bar had 'accidentally' not been stocked, thus more or less guaranteeing that the Pastor would be relatively sober at his announcement speech. The flight also provided one last opportunity for the illiterate man of God to rehearse his lines. That hadn't gone all that well while the candidate had been in California. Finally, the quiet time during the journey east could be used to calm the little man down a little. He was, frankly, a mess.
"Goddamn Harper! I sure could use a damned drink! I want you to find out who the hell done that and fire his ass! For Christ's sake I'm 'bout as nervous as a slow snake at a square dance!" Pastor Stratton paced the cramped little aisle. "I'd also like to know just who in hell figured Lolly ain't goin' ride with us!"
"Pastor, we need to start getting you dressed. We're about an hour out of Dulles, and you've got to look your best when you get off the plane." Harper said as he produced a new suit tailored with a country western cut. "You're going to look really good in this. Why don't you get this clean shirt on and get rid of everything else except your underwear. Have you tried on your new boots?"
Stratton, dutifully stripping, looked over his shoulder at Harper. "Them boots ain't bad. I like the decorations on them old ones better, but these here's good for walkin' around."
As the dressing process went along, Pastor Buck Stratton slowly began to look as good as he possibly could. The man had never really spoken before a live audience other than the twelve or fifteen "Amen clappers" who would constitute the live audience for his radio sermons. The crowd at the Washington Monument was waiting, almost two million strong, for their first chance to see and hear him. His unlikely popularity had been the laughing stock of the evangelical community as he rose to fame. With ninety million committed followers, no one was laughing now, Harper thought to himself. This funny little man had millions of dollars and millions of people. The only question was whether he had anything to say. Ted Harper felt a emptiness in his chest as he considered this.
Surveying his handiwork, Harper was pleased. Stratton looked anything but Presidential, but he was definitely himself. The suit was light tan. The Pastor said that black looked like a funeral. Against all arguments, he had decided to wear his cowboy hat. His mirrored sunglasses, like the bar stock for the jet, had been 'accidentally' mislaid. Whatever he did, whatever he said, he would make eye contact.
"Remember to wave and smile while we're getting off the plane. There are about a thousand reporters and photographers waiting in a pack. Be careful not to look at the flash bulbs if there are any." Ted Harper gave last minute instructions. "I'll be right behind you. The idea is to get into our limousine as fast as possible, but not to look like we're in a hurry."
"Harper, I'm about tired of you bossin' me ever which way. Matter of fact, I'm 'bout wonderin' what you and that damned Jew boy's up to with this whole goddamned thing. They ain't no damned way you two should'a been able to talk me into nothin' like this here! You think Lolly's goin' to hear me talk? It'd be awful her hearin' me make a fool out of myself." The nervous little man rambled as the door of the jet opened.
A few hundred photographs and a written press release saying next to nothing satisfied the mob of reporters at the airport. The attention was therapeutic to the ever humble Pastor Buck Stratton. His moment of terror passed quickly as he fully realized that he was the center of all attention. He beamed as he waved silently from the stair of the jet.
Once in the car, the morale boosting resumed. "See how well you handled all those people? You're going to do fine. You know enough of your speech to be able to fall back on it anytime you need to. We both know your great strength comes from saying what's in your heart. So just warm them up with a nice mix of speech and sermon. They'll love it. It can be pretty much like it is on the radio." Harper said as he nervously looked out the windows of the Rolls. The Mark of God crew in the city government had arranged to add four motorcycle policemen which gave an image of legitimacy to what would otherwise have been a simple drive across town. Washingtonians were so jaded at the sight of escorted limousines that hardly anyone looked up as they passed.
"Damn it! Now I gotta pee! Harper we gotta stop at a Quickie Mart or somewheres before I give this speech!" the Pastor suddenly blurted out.
Ted Harper sighed to himself. Any confidence the Pastor had received at the airport had evaporated. Stratton'sStratton. We have a nice air conditioned trailer waiting for you. There's a bathroom in there along with everything you'll need to get ready." Harper was saving the surprise of the make-up man for later. Stratton was far too pale for camera presence without make up, and with two million people there, the cameras would definitely be rolling.
Even though the Rolls parked as close as possible to the trailers, an army of rented security surrounded Stratton and Harper until they were inside. These arrangements represented more the concern that the Pastor could be trampled by admirers than any probability of attack.
After relieving himself, Stratton was ushered into a make up chair. "This ain't a bad little trailer, Harper. You know I used to live in a damned trailer, back when old Martha was around." he said with a distant tone.
"Hey! Let's stay up beat. There's no need to drag all that stuff out now. Pastor, I want you to let Larry here give you just the least possible amount of make up. It'll make you look good on camera. And we do need to look good, don't we?" Harper slid the suggestion to the little man in the chair.
"You ain't gonna make me look like no damned faggot, Harper! That right there's why I never done no FM radio. I hate that shit! Television neither!" Stratton exploded. "Anyways, WE don't gotta look good anyways 'cause you ain't gonna even be there. It's gonna be ME, Harper! ME! That's who, 'n I ain't wearing none of that there crap 'n lipstick CRAP!"
Standing up, Stratton continued, "I ain't doin' shit for you nor nobody else neither! Why would I? I'm givin' this here speech for ME, Harper! That right there's why folks wants me to be President so much! Here we are, five minutes from speech time, and you ain't helpin' nothin'. And you can just sit right there and watch me wear them sunglasses while I'm talking -- them sunglasses our driver Bill done give me after you lied about forgettin' them other ones"
When the time came the short little fat man with the red face bravely marched along with a contingent of security men as if he were leaving his cell on death row for the last time. Harper followed far enough behind to hopefully not irritate his fragile ego any further, but still close enough to see his face turn white as a sheet at the first sight of the multitude gathered to hear him. After an introduction by a woman unknown to Stratton or Harper, the moment came.
"I want to thank you all for comin'. We ain't never really met personal or such, so I'll just introduce myself. I'm Pastor Buck Stratton, and I'm the guy on the other end of them radio shows."
Harper was cautiously hopeful. Stratton seemed to be composed and cogent. Lolly Harshaw sat in the front row beaming, giggling in constant flirtation with Stratton Ministries Head of Security, Claude Swackheimer. The entire crowd rose to their feet to make a wild kind of war hoop.
"I asked everybody to show up here today on account of me havin' somethin' extra important to tell you. That right there would be this. I'm goin' run for President and get to be the President of America! I figure I can do that if all of you vote for me. That right there ain't much of a speech, so I'm gonna go on for a while."
"Out to California where I'm from we done a couple of things already. For one, we done created the Fundamentalist Congregational Reform America Party and that there's gonna be our political party like Republican or Democrat or the like. Some eggheads down to the Buck Stratton Headquarters done dreamed up that there name, but I'll tell what it means. It means after I'm President we ain't goin' put up with no more crap runnin' loose in the country, that's what it means! I'm goin' tell you more about that in a minute."
Ted Harper was beginning to get worried, even though the crowd could not get enough. Stratton had to stop at almost every sentence for the applause.
"The other important thing we done gettin' ready for this is we got us a Political Action Committee set up to pay for the campaign, and boy do we ever need to get some money into that baby! So right here, I'm askin' for you all to send money to that. Make them checks out to PAC F CRAP and send 'em right on into San Diego just exactly the same place where you send the rest of the money. It's goin' to take a bundle, so don't hold back none!"
"Now I need to tell all of you just what I mean to do once I'm President. The very first thing I'm doin' is I'm givin' that Demon one hour to get out of town, that's what! Yessirree! We already done had all of that little Devil and his evil little doin's we need! He can either get his ass on a boat or start swimmin'. I don't care! Yessirree! We gonna handle that li'l problem right now!"
These were the words the crowd longed to hear. The applause was, once again, deafening.
"Next thing is we gotta put some real serious Christian condemnin' on that spineless backslidin' President what let that Demon just move right in here! Yessirree! Old Bob Haskill needs to do some jail time and then take some public lashin'. See he ain't like us! Ain't one of you right out there'd let that anti-Christ move right into the country! Old Haskill ain't that bad of a President, Nosirree! That ain't the problem at all. The problem is he's a damned SINNER! That there's the problem!"
"Once I get them two handled, I'll just go right on down the line. And somewhere down the line I'm figurin' I'm goin' to run into good old Martha! Now, she done got her own little political party, but the problem she got is that ever one of 'em is under the spell of the damned devil. That old devil ain't got no power over us, Nosirree! But he damned sure got that whole bunch in the UCFC right where he wants 'em! I don't think I'm goin' to throw 'em all out of the country neither. Just them's ain't willin' to join up with a righteous church. The rest of 'em can stay, but we gonna have to keep our eye on 'em, if you know what I mean."
The fighting between the UCFC and the Fundies had stopped a while ago, but the emotions were still high. This elicited another war cry from the two million.
"God is makin' this campaign possible, and I'm figurin' that the first thing God's goin' to want outta this deal is a chance to get even for the crap these sinners done pulled already! I figure we gonna have to get this here place cleaned up. So far I ain't been nothin' but a humble Man of God, just a hard workin' preacher tryin' to carry light into the world. But now we goin' have to get into the judgin' business just like them Bible people done! And we ain't goin' quit 'til we got a righteous nation that teaches prayin' in high schools and other stuff like that!"
The school prayer comment was one of the few which came from Buck Stratton's written speech, but the crowd ate it up, nonetheless. Ted Harper sighed. This campaign might not last long enough for an opportunity to loot the PAC. What followed was a product of Lolly Harshaw reading the Scriptures to the illiterate minister. The grotesque nature of it didn't cause this crowd to miss a beat. They lapped it up as if it were breakfast.
"See, beloved, here in America we gettin' us a chance for votin' on God's side! If somebody here's wantin' to vote for sin, well, just step right over and join up with old Martha! We don't want you! We don't need none of them other crystal lickin' UCFC's neither! We don't need no fornicators or aldulterators votin' for us! All them grave robbers and blasphemers better vote for old Martha. We don't need no liars or murderers! Don't need no thieves or idolyerators! If you ain't on that list, then you goin' be votin' FCRAP in this here election! You gonna be votin' for Old Pastor Buck!"
"God bless you all, and don't forget to send them contributions into the PAC! We startin' late here and we really needin' the money. Thank you."
The Pastor raised his arms to make a great 'V' over his head and left the podium. The crowd continued to applaud and cheer even after he and Ted Harper had regained the relative privacy of the trailer. "Now maybe you can see why I'm Buck Stratton and you ain't, you little piss ant! Them people was cheering before I even got there and they's still cheering now after I left 'em. Just figure that! You was so worried that Old Pastor Buck ain't goin' do good. Well, forget it. Now I know I can win President, but only if I ain't listening to the likes of you!" Stratton said as he peeled off the sweat soaked suit, replacing it with his usual clothes. "I'm ready to get back home. I'm figurin' that by now there's a goddamned bottle on my jet!"
Pastor Stratton himself accompanied his primary advisor, Ted Harper, in the luxurious executive craft. It was hoped that this might accomplish several objectives. Far most important of them was that the little jet's bar had 'accidentally' not been stocked, thus more or less guaranteeing that the Pastor would be relatively sober at his announcement speech. The flight also provided one last opportunity for the illiterate man of God to rehearse his lines. That hadn't gone all that well while the candidate had been in California. Finally, the quiet time during the journey east could be used to calm the little man down a little. He was, frankly, a mess.
"Goddamn Harper! I sure could use a damned drink! I want you to find out who the hell done that and fire his ass! For Christ's sake I'm 'bout as nervous as a slow snake at a square dance!" Pastor Stratton paced the cramped little aisle. "I'd also like to know just who in hell figured Lolly ain't goin' ride with us!"
"Pastor, we need to start getting you dressed. We're about an hour out of Dulles, and you've got to look your best when you get off the plane." Harper said as he produced a new suit tailored with a country western cut. "You're going to look really good in this. Why don't you get this clean shirt on and get rid of everything else except your underwear. Have you tried on your new boots?"
Stratton, dutifully stripping, looked over his shoulder at Harper. "Them boots ain't bad. I like the decorations on them old ones better, but these here's good for walkin' around."
As the dressing process went along, Pastor Buck Stratton slowly began to look as good as he possibly could. The man had never really spoken before a live audience other than the twelve or fifteen "Amen clappers" who would constitute the live audience for his radio sermons. The crowd at the Washington Monument was waiting, almost two million strong, for their first chance to see and hear him. His unlikely popularity had been the laughing stock of the evangelical community as he rose to fame. With ninety million committed followers, no one was laughing now, Harper thought to himself. This funny little man had millions of dollars and millions of people. The only question was whether he had anything to say. Ted Harper felt a emptiness in his chest as he considered this.
Surveying his handiwork, Harper was pleased. Stratton looked anything but Presidential, but he was definitely himself. The suit was light tan. The Pastor said that black looked like a funeral. Against all arguments, he had decided to wear his cowboy hat. His mirrored sunglasses, like the bar stock for the jet, had been 'accidentally' mislaid. Whatever he did, whatever he said, he would make eye contact.
"Remember to wave and smile while we're getting off the plane. There are about a thousand reporters and photographers waiting in a pack. Be careful not to look at the flash bulbs if there are any." Ted Harper gave last minute instructions. "I'll be right behind you. The idea is to get into our limousine as fast as possible, but not to look like we're in a hurry."
"Harper, I'm about tired of you bossin' me ever which way. Matter of fact, I'm 'bout wonderin' what you and that damned Jew boy's up to with this whole goddamned thing. They ain't no damned way you two should'a been able to talk me into nothin' like this here! You think Lolly's goin' to hear me talk? It'd be awful her hearin' me make a fool out of myself." The nervous little man rambled as the door of the jet opened.
A few hundred photographs and a written press release saying next to nothing satisfied the mob of reporters at the airport. The attention was therapeutic to the ever humble Pastor Buck Stratton. His moment of terror passed quickly as he fully realized that he was the center of all attention. He beamed as he waved silently from the stair of the jet.
Once in the car, the morale boosting resumed. "See how well you handled all those people? You're going to do fine. You know enough of your speech to be able to fall back on it anytime you need to. We both know your great strength comes from saying what's in your heart. So just warm them up with a nice mix of speech and sermon. They'll love it. It can be pretty much like it is on the radio." Harper said as he nervously looked out the windows of the Rolls. The Mark of God crew in the city government had arranged to add four motorcycle policemen which gave an image of legitimacy to what would otherwise have been a simple drive across town. Washingtonians were so jaded at the sight of escorted limousines that hardly anyone looked up as they passed.
"Damn it! Now I gotta pee! Harper we gotta stop at a Quickie Mart or somewheres before I give this speech!" the Pastor suddenly blurted out.
Ted Harper sighed to himself. Any confidence the Pastor had received at the airport had evaporated. Stratton'sStratton. We have a nice air conditioned trailer waiting for you. There's a bathroom in there along with everything you'll need to get ready." Harper was saving the surprise of the make-up man for later. Stratton was far too pale for camera presence without make up, and with two million people there, the cameras would definitely be rolling.
Even though the Rolls parked as close as possible to the trailers, an army of rented security surrounded Stratton and Harper until they were inside. These arrangements represented more the concern that the Pastor could be trampled by admirers than any probability of attack.
After relieving himself, Stratton was ushered into a make up chair. "This ain't a bad little trailer, Harper. You know I used to live in a damned trailer, back when old Martha was around." he said with a distant tone.
"Hey! Let's stay up beat. There's no need to drag all that stuff out now. Pastor, I want you to let Larry here give you just the least possible amount of make up. It'll make you look good on camera. And we do need to look good, don't we?" Harper slid the suggestion to the little man in the chair.
"You ain't gonna make me look like no damned faggot, Harper! That right there's why I never done no FM radio. I hate that shit! Television neither!" Stratton exploded. "Anyways, WE don't gotta look good anyways 'cause you ain't gonna even be there. It's gonna be ME, Harper! ME! That's who, 'n I ain't wearing none of that there crap 'n lipstick CRAP!"
Standing up, Stratton continued, "I ain't doin' shit for you nor nobody else neither! Why would I? I'm givin' this here speech for ME, Harper! That right there's why folks wants me to be President so much! Here we are, five minutes from speech time, and you ain't helpin' nothin'. And you can just sit right there and watch me wear them sunglasses while I'm talking -- them sunglasses our driver Bill done give me after you lied about forgettin' them other ones"
When the time came the short little fat man with the red face bravely marched along with a contingent of security men as if he were leaving his cell on death row for the last time. Harper followed far enough behind to hopefully not irritate his fragile ego any further, but still close enough to see his face turn white as a sheet at the first sight of the multitude gathered to hear him. After an introduction by a woman unknown to Stratton or Harper, the moment came.
"I want to thank you all for comin'. We ain't never really met personal or such, so I'll just introduce myself. I'm Pastor Buck Stratton, and I'm the guy on the other end of them radio shows."
Harper was cautiously hopeful. Stratton seemed to be composed and cogent. Lolly Harshaw sat in the front row beaming, giggling in constant flirtation with Stratton Ministries Head of Security, Claude Swackheimer. The entire crowd rose to their feet to make a wild kind of war hoop.
"I asked everybody to show up here today on account of me havin' somethin' extra important to tell you. That right there would be this. I'm goin' run for President and get to be the President of America! I figure I can do that if all of you vote for me. That right there ain't much of a speech, so I'm gonna go on for a while."
"Out to California where I'm from we done a couple of things already. For one, we done created the Fundamentalist Congregational Reform America Party and that there's gonna be our political party like Republican or Democrat or the like. Some eggheads down to the Buck Stratton Headquarters done dreamed up that there name, but I'll tell what it means. It means after I'm President we ain't goin' put up with no more crap runnin' loose in the country, that's what it means! I'm goin' tell you more about that in a minute."
Ted Harper was beginning to get worried, even though the crowd could not get enough. Stratton had to stop at almost every sentence for the applause.
"The other important thing we done gettin' ready for this is we got us a Political Action Committee set up to pay for the campaign, and boy do we ever need to get some money into that baby! So right here, I'm askin' for you all to send money to that. Make them checks out to PAC F CRAP and send 'em right on into San Diego just exactly the same place where you send the rest of the money. It's goin' to take a bundle, so don't hold back none!"
"Now I need to tell all of you just what I mean to do once I'm President. The very first thing I'm doin' is I'm givin' that Demon one hour to get out of town, that's what! Yessirree! We already done had all of that little Devil and his evil little doin's we need! He can either get his ass on a boat or start swimmin'. I don't care! Yessirree! We gonna handle that li'l problem right now!"
These were the words the crowd longed to hear. The applause was, once again, deafening.
"Next thing is we gotta put some real serious Christian condemnin' on that spineless backslidin' President what let that Demon just move right in here! Yessirree! Old Bob Haskill needs to do some jail time and then take some public lashin'. See he ain't like us! Ain't one of you right out there'd let that anti-Christ move right into the country! Old Haskill ain't that bad of a President, Nosirree! That ain't the problem at all. The problem is he's a damned SINNER! That there's the problem!"
"Once I get them two handled, I'll just go right on down the line. And somewhere down the line I'm figurin' I'm goin' to run into good old Martha! Now, she done got her own little political party, but the problem she got is that ever one of 'em is under the spell of the damned devil. That old devil ain't got no power over us, Nosirree! But he damned sure got that whole bunch in the UCFC right where he wants 'em! I don't think I'm goin' to throw 'em all out of the country neither. Just them's ain't willin' to join up with a righteous church. The rest of 'em can stay, but we gonna have to keep our eye on 'em, if you know what I mean."
The fighting between the UCFC and the Fundies had stopped a while ago, but the emotions were still high. This elicited another war cry from the two million.
"God is makin' this campaign possible, and I'm figurin' that the first thing God's goin' to want outta this deal is a chance to get even for the crap these sinners done pulled already! I figure we gonna have to get this here place cleaned up. So far I ain't been nothin' but a humble Man of God, just a hard workin' preacher tryin' to carry light into the world. But now we goin' have to get into the judgin' business just like them Bible people done! And we ain't goin' quit 'til we got a righteous nation that teaches prayin' in high schools and other stuff like that!"
The school prayer comment was one of the few which came from Buck Stratton's written speech, but the crowd ate it up, nonetheless. Ted Harper sighed. This campaign might not last long enough for an opportunity to loot the PAC. What followed was a product of Lolly Harshaw reading the Scriptures to the illiterate minister. The grotesque nature of it didn't cause this crowd to miss a beat. They lapped it up as if it were breakfast.
"See, beloved, here in America we gettin' us a chance for votin' on God's side! If somebody here's wantin' to vote for sin, well, just step right over and join up with old Martha! We don't want you! We don't need none of them other crystal lickin' UCFC's neither! We don't need no fornicators or aldulterators votin' for us! All them grave robbers and blasphemers better vote for old Martha. We don't need no liars or murderers! Don't need no thieves or idolyerators! If you ain't on that list, then you goin' be votin' FCRAP in this here election! You gonna be votin' for Old Pastor Buck!"
"God bless you all, and don't forget to send them contributions into the PAC! We startin' late here and we really needin' the money. Thank you."
The Pastor raised his arms to make a great 'V' over his head and left the podium. The crowd continued to applaud and cheer even after he and Ted Harper had regained the relative privacy of the trailer. "Now maybe you can see why I'm Buck Stratton and you ain't, you little piss ant! Them people was cheering before I even got there and they's still cheering now after I left 'em. Just figure that! You was so worried that Old Pastor Buck ain't goin' do good. Well, forget it. Now I know I can win President, but only if I ain't listening to the likes of you!" Stratton said as he peeled off the sweat soaked suit, replacing it with his usual clothes. "I'm ready to get back home. I'm figurin' that by now there's a goddamned bottle on my jet!"
