White House.
Fire flickered in the fireplace of the Oval Office.
Little Bush sank into the leather chair, thoroughly enjoying the feeling, especially as he looked at the family representatives before him, their heads lowered, giving him great satisfaction.
"Gentlemen."
He raised his head, a perfectly measured smile on his lips, with eyes gleaming openly with pride, "The rebel group from Hudson has been dealt with, the mess cleaned up; now, it's time to discuss what we previously agreed on."
Little Joseph Kennedy, seated first to the left, smiled and pressed his Cuban cigar into the crystal ashtray, twisting it as ash dusted onto the silver cigarette case embossed with the family crest: "President Bush is straightforward, of course, no problem."
His words seemed a bit anxious, but there was no helping it.
The Kennedy family was indeed feeling discomfort recently...
