O’Sullivan’s Law

Eugine O’Grady was very surprised that he received a promotion within the Department of Global Intelligentsia; he had been appointed Deputy of Foreign Affairs. To him, it seemed as if this was a premature and uncalculated decision because he saw himself as a lackluster government employee toeing the line for a bunch of political opportunists. Why would his superiors entrust him with a powerful position within the Federal Government? Why would they hire him over someone else?

It just didn’t make any sense.

Eugene O’Grady arrived on Capitol Hill that day in spiritual disarray. His hair, normally combed and slicked-back, was unclean and disheveled. His fancy and debonair polyester suit was noticeably wrinkled and his white undershirt had a coffee stain on it near the collar. At least his leather shoes were nice and shiny.

O’Grady arrived at his office and placed his briefcase on his desk. He then took a seat in his comfy, ergonomic office chair. He stared at nothing for a moment before taking a deep breath and sipping his coffee. He knew that something terrible was in store for him that day.

O’Grady glanced over his shoulder and noticed Ryan O’Malley walking in his direction. The discussion he was dreading was about to happen. These bureaucratic types are truly awful people, O’Grady thought to himself. America’s finest fraudsters.

“Good morning, O’Grady,” said O’Malley. He grabbed a chair from a neighboring desk and sat in it. He smiled at O’Grady quizzically.

“Morning,” O’Grady returned.

“It’s very lovely to see you today.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy to see me?”

“Yea,” O’Grady said, feeling annoyed. He wanted to get through the conversation as expeditiously as he could.

O’Malley, in his usual fashion, wore a tan suit with ugly silver cufflinks that resembled a five-pointed star. He also had on a dark red tie and dark olive designer shoes. His teeth were unfathomably white and pristine. His eyes were small and rat-like.

“I’m very happy to take you under my wing,” O’Malley said, his eyes gleaming. “We here in the Department have big plans for you.” O’Malley reached out and patted O’Grady on the shoulder. “Do you know why we appointed you to this position?”

O’Grady hesitated. Had no idea whatsoever as to what would motivate anyone such as O’Malley to have any faith in him. He was never ambitious about ascending within the hierarchy of government.

O’Grady, in response to O’Malley, merely shook his head indicating that he was unsure.

“I need you to serve as an intermediary between me and President Sneed,” O’Malley said briskly. “It’s an important job. I need you to assure me that you can handle it.”

O’Grady had no idea what was happening. This wasn’t real. This was a farce.

“I can handle it,” O’Grady managed to say. He shuddered at the thought of affiliating himself with the most powerful person on earth. “What’s the President like?”

“President Sneed is a very stupid person and we have to do everything for him,” O’Malley said. He was dead serious.

A brief moment of silence ensued. O’Grady wasn’t sure how to respond. Nothing at the moment made sense. It was too much. It was satanic.

These were the kinds of conversations he was dreading.

“I need you to relay a message to the President,” O’Malley continued. Nothing deterred him. He had complete control of the situation. “Tell him that some changes are being implemented regarding his policy on Middle Eastern economic interests.”

“What kind of changes?” O’Grady asked.

O’Malley smirked playfully and said, “Tell him Plan B is now our Plan A.”

O’Grady solemnly nodded, assenting to O’Malley’s request.

Nothing happened for a time. O’Malley never took his gaze off of O’Grady. He had something on his mind and it was obvious to O’Grady that the discussion was not over. O’Malley eyed him acutely.

“I need to ask you something, O’Grady,” O’Malley finally said.

“What’s that?” O’Grady said in as neutral of a voice as he could muster.

“What do you think about me?” O’Malley squinted his eyes at O’Grady as if he could detect some unidentifiable blemish. “What do you think of my ilk?”

O’Grady was at a complete loss. What was O’Malley attempting to do? Why was he interrogating him? O’Grady felt vulnerable and ill at ease. O’Malley wanted him to admit the things that he would never openly admit.

“I think you’re doing a good job,” O’Grady said, and he felt very awkward saying it. “I think very highly of you, Mr. O’Malley.”

O’Malley’s expression suddenly changed, as if he finally understood the thing that was a mystery to him. “I think I know what’s happening,” O’Malley said.

O’Grady floundered, then said, “What’s happening?”

O’Malley smiled brightly. “Don’t you know?” O’Malley said. “I’m a Communist.”

O’Grady drew back from O’Malley with confusion. Who in the federal government would openly admit that they’re a Communist? O’Grady thought. And how did a Communist get a job in the Department of Global Intelligentsia? Was this a dream? Was any of it real?

“All of us in the Department are Communists,” O’Malley continued. “We are the People’s Government.”

O’Grady gazed fearfully at O’Malley. How didn’t he know before now that everyone in the Department was a Communist? This was such a strange conversation. It made him deeply uncomfortable.

But there was one thing that he needed to know for certain…

“Does the President know about this?” O’Grady asked.

“It doesn’t make a difference whether he knows or not,” O’Malley said after taking a moment to consider his response. “He’s a puppet.”

-----

O’Grady sat at his desk in a trance. The conversation that took place between him and O’Malley had a jarring effect on him. It was the most profound discovery ever made: seemingly everyone in the U.S. Government was secretly a Communist.

How in the Hell did it happen?

O’Grady had yet to accomplish anything that day. He kept repeating in his mind everything that O’Malley told him: “I’m a Communist” – “All of us in the Department are Communists” – “We are the People’s Government.”

It was truly fascinating to behold the most surreptitious and insidious takeover of the U.S. Government.

O’Grady was caught up in his thoughts for some time before he was approached by a mere peon within the Department: Suzanne O’Reilly. She was truly an awful human being. She had ugly hair and her face was pale and drab. She had said some nasty things in the past about President Sneed that nearly cost her everything.

She is undoubtedly a Communist, O’Grady thought.

“Congratulations on being appointed Deputy of Foreign Affairs,” said O’Reilly, but there was nothing genuine about her praise of O’Grady. She then inched her way closer to him and, with a motion of her finger, she beseeched him to get closer.

O’Grady obliged and began leaning toward her, within whispering distance.

“I really wanted that promotion,” she said in a low voice. “I want to know what you did that made O’Malley choose you over me.”

“I didn’t do anything,” O’Grady said. “O’Malley doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

O’Reilly nodded. “I’ll agree with you on that.”

“It makes no sense that he appointed me to the position.”

O’Reilly giggled queerly at O’Grady’s lack of discretion. Then she smiled broadly. “I’ll be accompanying you when you relay your message to the President,” she said.

“How’d you know about that?” O’Grady asked. The Communists must tell each other things that the non-Communists won’t know about, O’Grady thought to himself.

“What difference does it make if I know or don’t?” O’Reilly said with a sneer. “I’m coming along and that’s that.”

O’Grady stared at her futilely before making a gesture of acquiescence. O’Reilly, in a display of triumph and merriment, grabbed O’Grady’s arm and yanked him up from his ergonomic chair before passionately embracing him.

“I want to know all about your ideological beliefs,” O’Reilly said to him while continuing to cling to him closely.

“I don’t have any,” O’Grady answered.

“Are you with me or are you against me, Eugine?” O’Reilly said, her eyes fluttering with congeniality. “I’ll strip off all of my clothes and have sex with you right now if you disavow Capitalism and the Imperialist Agenda of Western Civilization.” She clung to him tightly. “I need to know that you are a part of the Revolution."

O’Grady trembled. The Communists were more out in the open about their plans than he had previously realized. O’Grady had to think of something to say to appease her, but what?

He had to say something on the spot, and that’s exactly what he did:

“I hereby declare my allegiance to the People's Revolution,” O’Grady said.

O’Reilly gazed up at him reverently, as if he were some sort of prophet and all of his predictions came true.

“I think I love you,” O’Reilly said. “And I’ll show you everything, including my naked body.”

-----

O’Grady had managed to escape Suzanne O’Reilly, but now he was confronted by another one of his colleagues: the indubitable Sir James O’Sullivan.

“I overheard your conversation with Miss O’Reilly,” O'Sullivan said. “It confirms my suspicions about many of the federal employees who work here.”

O’Sullivan was a convivial geriatric man. He had a sickly and crooked appearance; his bones were brittle and he had liver spots on his hands and face. Something was wrong with his posture. He was slow yet stealthy at the same time.

O’Sullivan’s eyes glazed over. The secret was no longer concealed. The Communists were out in the open. “I have a theory about what has happened,” O’Sullivan said.

O’Grady was in no mood to engage with the old man. He already felt disgusted from his earlier interactions with O’Malley and O’Reilly. But O’Sullivan was very smart and keen-minded; he had many insightful things to say.

“What’s your theory?” O’Grady said after taking a moment to consider what O’Sullivan was suggesting.

O’Sullivan beckoned O’Grady to get closer to him so that no one else would hear what he had to say. O’Grady obliged him.

“The government, at one point, was non-ideological,” O’Sullivan said in a low voice. “However, there was an exorable change that took place. It was a cultural undoing.”

“What kind of change are you talking about?” O'Grady asked.

“All the right-wingers were replaced by left-wingers.”

There was a short pause. The conversation took on a new color, a new complexion.

“Tell me more,” O’Grady said stupidly. He gazed at O’Sullivan with empty-headed curiosity.

“Ideologically, if you’re not openly right-leaning, then you will inevitably veer off towards the left,” O’Sullivan said. “It’s my first law – O’Sullivan’s Law.”

“O’Sullivan’s Law,” O’Grady said meekly.

“A radical left-wing takeover is happening before our very eyes, Mr. O’Grady.” O’Sullivan removed his glasses and gazed at O’Grady. He was soberingly candid about the situation. “I’ve been pretending to be a Democratic Communist so that I don’t lose my job. In actuality, I’m a left-of-center pragmatist with an above-average understanding of geopolitical ecosystems.” O’Sullivan paused for a moment, imbuing the conversation with greater tension. “The entire global apparatus of government is instituting policies that forge a new path into conformity, compliance, and degradation.”

O’Grady understood what was happening. He now knew what O’Sullivan was trying to tell him. Certain government employees were not supposed to acknowledge their ideology openly.

Certain government employees were not supposed to be Communists.

This was a bizarre and forbidden realization.

“President Sneed may question you on your political orientation,” O’Sullivan continued. “If I were you, I would avoid the topic altogether.”

Plan B was the new Plan A.

-----

O'Grady and O'Reilly were now inside the Oval Office. Outside it was a dreary day. There was a tinge of anguish that permeated the atmosphere. Everything was backward. Everything was deprived of its essence.

The change had happened, and O’Grady was now at the mercy of the Communists.

Sitting across from O’Grady and O’Reilly was President Sneed. The man had a dour yet unemotional presence. He was your typical politician with an amiable demeanor yet imbecilic instincts. Just looking at him made O’Grady shiver with dread.

“I need to ask you something, O’Grady,” President Sneed said solemnly. He shifted in his seat and, after glancing circumspectly at O’Reilly, he folded his arms and glowered at O’Grady. “Do you suspect me of being an evil-doer?”

“What did you just ask me?” O’Grady said. He was completely taken aback. This was very odd behavior for a president – something that O’Grady thought he would never encounter in his entire life.

“Let me rephrase the question: Do you suspect that I’m sort of stooge for the New World Order? Do you suspect that I’m a Freemason devil-worshipper? Do you suspect that I’ve been abusing my power for some arcane satanic purpose?”

O’Grady shuddered and did his best not to reveal any sign of weakness. How could this be real? Why would the President of the United States ask him such antagonistic and candid questions? What would come out of this?

Was the world coming to an end?

“I’d prefer not to answer any of those questions,” O’Grady answered after a brief moment of silence.

President Sneed glanced again at O’Reilly. They stared at each other for a moment. They said nothing, but they were communicating. Watching the two of them had a sinister effect on O’Grady.

O’Reilly briefly glanced at O’Grady, then she turned her attention back to President Sneed.

“Do it,” she commanded. She had an inscrutable expression on her face.

President Sneed frowned but nodded his head in agreement, indicating that he was ready to engage in another stratagem of interrogation.

“I’ve got another question I need to ask you, Mr. O’Grady,” President Sneed said, somewhat nonchalantly. He seemed indifferent, almost as if he were pestered.

“What?” asked O’Grady.

“Do you think that–” President Sneed hesitated. He was now perspiring; he wiped his forehead with a dainty little white cloth that he retrieved from his pocket. “Do you believe that my administration is detrimental to our great nation?”

O’Grady said nothing at first. “Can you give me a second to think about the answer?” he finally asked.

President Sneed made a gesture of acquiescence while groaning audibly. He made it obvious that he was frustrated with how the conversation was going.

O’Grady didn’t know how to respond. Nothing could have ever prepared him for what was happening. What the fuck am I supposed to say to this lunatic? O’Grady thought. He wants me to say something that will get me in trouble; he wants me to oust myself.

But why?

O’Grady, after a moment of introspection, finally said, “I refuse to answer the question, Mr. President.”

President Sneed didn’t appreciate the response he received, and his own agitation got the best of him. He made a gesture of contempt toward O’Grady. He kicked his desk and growled like a rabid animal.

O’Reilly, who was deeply unhappy with the President’s behavior, decided that she needed to intervene: she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice creating an extremely unpleasant crescendo throughout the room.

Both O’Grady and the President gazed at her in mortal terror.

“I’m sorry, miss O’Reilly,” President Sneed said to her sincerely. He then turned his attention back to O’Grady. He faltered for a moment before saying, “I’m a benevolent guy, Mr. O’Grady. I care a lot about the people who are oppressed; I want to uplift them...but things have got to go my way politically if I’m going to bring change to America.” President Sneed smirked briefly, but then he was serious again. “I need to know that you’re not going to get in my way.”

“Mr. President,” O’Grady began, “I’m a bureaucrat, not a politician. Your people appointed me to this position.” O’Grady looked over at O'Reilly, who was smiling back at him slyly. “My ideology,” O’Grady continued, “doesn’t influence the work that I do for the federal government.”

Dread and apprehension were palpable inside the Oval Office. The President didn’t seem to understand what O'Grady was saying and he didn’t seem interested in probing him any further.

O’Reilly, on the other hand, took things a step further: she turned to O’Grady and said, “Tell the President what you told me about your stance on the Revolution.”

She patiently waited for O’Grady to respond while President Sneed sat there slumped in his chair. O’Grady, however, finally understood what they were trying to do; he knew what they wanted him to say; he knew what they wanted him to believe.

President Sneed sat back up in his chair and decided to chime in. “Communism isn’t so bad, don’t you think?” he said. “We can agree that Communism in the end will save us all, can’t we?”

O’Grady was astonished. He heard something that he never thought a sitting President of the United States would say. It had him in a daze; his eyes glossed over and he felt numb. The Communists had really done it – they had taken over the United States of America.

“Plan B is the new Plan A,” said President Sneed with a twinkle in his eye.