Get mad sir! Like Liam Neeson!

“Mr. Vice President, you have to get in the car. We can’t let them take over the United States.”

The head of the President‘s security detail spoke to Vice President Spence through the open passenger window. The long, heavily-armored black limousine was sitting just outside a secure location of the Capitol. The Vice President stood near the door of the building.

“Sir, when you get in the car, we’ll take you to a secure broadcast facility where you’ll address the nation. You will tell them you are not certifying the election results due to a massive criminal conspiracy and you will call for a new election immediately.”

Spence looked at the car. Mobs of the President’s supporters were over-running over the Capitol with insurrectionist fury. Were these Secret Service agents intent on saving the nation, or would they hang him from the impromptu noose the rioters had quickly constructed on the Capitol grounds?

For most of his life, he had taken the safe route. Kept his head down and nose clean. A non-drinker, he met his wife in the Catholic Crusaders for Christ group at their small midwestern university. They married and started a family while he went to law school. He was a man of conviction, but spoke softly and thoughtfully.

Now he had an opportunity to show his leadership. For too long he was the loyal soldier, defending the President during an endless series of gaffes over their year in office together. If he stopped this election now, he would be seen as a man of action. He might even get the top job.

“Let’s go!” he said with a half-pump of his fist as got in the limousine. A beefy man pulled the door shut as the wheels gained traction in the fresh snow and sped away.

They drove to a secret TV studio. Spence sat down behind the studio desk. A large green screen covered the wall behind him. Three robot-cameras rolled into position as the director gave him some last minute instructions.

“We are going worldwide in just another minute, sir,” the director said. “Would you like some water or anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Which is my primary camera?”

“Right here, sir.”

“Let’s do a test run.” A minute later, the director counted down and then pointed at him.

“Hello, I’m Vice President Spence,” he said softly. “As you know, a group of patriots has taken over the Capitol. I support them in this operation. We are taking the country back. I am here today to announce that the election results are fraudulent and that it is time to restore the rule of law and order across America.”

“OK, says the director, the words were good, sir, but I need more ‘oomph.’ You have to sell it.”

“Hello, I’m Vice President Spence,” he said again quietly.

“Cut! We need more emotion!”

“Hello, I’m Vice President…”

“Cut! Sir, we don’t have time for this. Get emotional. Get mad. Like Liam Neeson in ‘Taken.'”

“OK, got it. Hello, I’m Vice President Spence…”

“Cut! Sir, stand up for me please. Now don’t move. I’m going to punch you in the stomach. Bang! Woah, that looked like it hurt! Here’s another one! Pow! Now how do you feel? You want to hit me, don’t you, sir??!!”

“Yes, I want to hit you,” Spence said, doubled over the desk holding his stomach.

“Now you got it! Let’s go again.”

Quietly in a pained voice, Spence started again, “Hello, this is Vice President, cough, Spence, cough…”

“Cut! Look, we are going to lose this country unless we get this done right now. Joanna, call the movie studio. Get a VP-looking actor in here on the double. We’ll just have to fake it.”