Chapter 56: Reagan vs Lincoln

Coolidge limped through the hall. She glanced at the stadium screens around her, growling as they pictured the man who defeated her grinning for the camera.

“Charles Arthur,” she muttered, “I’ll remember this.”

She looked back down the hall, her rage boiling anew as Hoover sprinted towards her.

“You damn idiot!” Hoover screamed, “You would have won if you stayed in the fight a little longer! I mean seriously, how could you fail to realize that Arthur would be dead tired after summoning that giant elephant while Executive Power: Budget Cuts was activate? If you had just—"

“Hoover!” Coolidge screeched.

Hoover blinked, shocked to see Coolidge raise her voice like that.

“Six years,” Coolidge continued, wrapping her fingers around Hoover’s shoulders. “I’ve known you for six years. This whole time you’ve offered me nothing but unsolicited advice…”

Coolidge pushed Hoover aside, tossing her to the floor.

“…all of it bad!”

Coolidge gave one final glare, then marched down the hall.

Hoover lay frozen on the ground, stunned by Coolidge’s outburst.

“You’re a smart woman, Hoover,” a voice called, “but Coolidge made the right call.”

Hoover looked up, spotting Harding beside her.

“If,” Harding continued, “Arthur truly had summoned that large beast after Budget Cuts was activated, then he wouldn’t be dead tired; he’d be dead, full stop.”

Hoover rubbed her chin.

“…true,” she admitted with reluctance. “Which means…”

Harding nodded.

“Arthur summoned that monster before the match even started; before Coolidge ever had the chance to use her EP against him.”

Hoover clicked her tongue.

“The man’s prudent, I’ll give him that.”

“Anyways,” Harding remarked, extending at hand. “Why don’t we moozie to the stands? We can’t be missing the biggest match of the tournament after all!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hello everybody!” Thompson shouted, “we’re ready to start the final fight of the first day. This match features the Heads of two different Parties: one the newest, the other one of its oldest! Will the tried-and-true methods of the older Party carry the day? Or will the youth and vigor of the newer generation swallow its ancestor whole? Let’s find out!”

She gestured to the arena.

“Our first fighter is a viral fortune teller who seeks to preserve and extend the sacred flames of liberty! She has a perpetual and infectious optimism that comes from her strong faith God, and also from her strong and enduring faith in mankind! She knows in her heart that what is right will always triumph, and she aims to triumph here and now! Let’s hear it for the head of the Reaganites, [The Platinum Star], Ronda Reagan!”

A red carpet rolled onto the arena floor. Cameras flashed as Reagan walked in wearing a stunning fortune teller’s outfit together with a dazzling celestial turban on her head. A dazzling smile covered her face, her eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky.

“For her opponent,” Thompson continued, “we have a man who speaks with a voice of thunder! Who laughs like the sunrise! Whose deeds are as strong as rock and as sweet as the fragrance of roses! He’s the humble man from Illinois, the chain breaker for millions of the oppressed, the head of the National Union Party, and a proud member of Rushmore! Let’s hear it, for [The Railsplitter], Gabe Lincoln!”

Lincoln strode in with his awkward, homely style of walking. He gave a tip of his stovepipe hat to the crowd with one hand, his other gripping onto a large greataxe.

Reagan watched Lincoln’s approach, then pulled out her phone and lifted it behind her.

“Yo, yo, yo!” she spoke to her device. “What’s up Rea-gang? It’s your girl Ronda coming to you live with another exclusive pre-fight stream! Today we’ll be fighting one of the strongest Presidents around, Gabe Lincoln!”

She shifted her camera to Lincoln. He chuckled, offering a small wave before Reagan promptly turned the camera back to herself.

“Now, I know a lot of haters have been saying I’ve got no chance of winning, but my horoscope begs to differ!”

Various infographics appeared across Regan’s digital screen, showcasing various astrological charts and constellations.

“As you can see, the stars are perfectly aligned today for Aquarius, which means—"

“Ehem,” Taft spoke with an exaggerated cough besides her.

Reagan shot him an innocent smile before turning back to her phone.

“That’s all the time we have today, Rea-gang! Tune in later for my post-fight video, and remember to like, comment, and subscribe!”

Lincoln chuckled as Reagan put away her device.

“You’re quite the actor, aren’t you?”

Reagan gave an overly exaggerated look of shock.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Reagan made two lowercase r’s with her index fingers and brought them together in the shape of a heart.

“I always speak straight from the heart!”

Lincoln gave a knowing smile, then lifted his axe and took a series of practice swings.

“On the topic of honesty, I’d like to go ahead and warn you that I won’t be holding back this fight.”

He looked to the stadium, locking eyes with Davis.

“I can’t afford to…not while there’s someone in this tournament who I absolutely must defeat.”

Reagan grinned.

“You’re as noble a man as the rumors say. But I too have my own reasons why I must win. What are they, you ask? Only the greatest motivators of mankind.”

She gestured to the crowd around them.

“Fame and recognition!” she screamed. “The irresistible feeling of everyone’s eyes centered solely on me!”

She looked to the spectators, eyeing the Lincoln banners and flags swinging throughout the stands.

“Of course, I know the spotlight is shining over you Rushmores most of all, but this is but a fleeting matter! Yes, I’ve communicated with the cosmos, and they promise me that when this tournament comes to a close…”

She pointed to Lincoln.

“…my Party will be the true stars of the show!”

“Wowee!” Thompson exclaimed. “That’s a bold statement coming from Reagan! Do you think she’ll be able to back up those words, Truman?”

“Nope,” he quipped, “she’s going to get her butt kicked six ways to Sunday.”

“Yeowch!” Thompson winced. “But seriously; don’t you think it’s strange how both Reagan and her second in command, Jorge Bush, chose to fight Rushmores in round 1? Surely Reagan wouldn’t put her Party at risk like this unless she had some aces up her sleeves!”

Truman shrugged.

“It’s possible, but it’s more likely they chose this out of youthful arrogance rather than any sort of careful planning.”

“Fair enough! Either way, we won’t know until we start; so let’s get started already!”

Taft raised his gavel.

“Let the match…begin!”

“Executive Power!” Reagan spoke as Taft’s hammer hit the floor, “Star Wars; Can—"

Reagan stopped as a towering figure appeared before her, covering her body in shadow.

She glanced up, locking eyes with Lincoln as he readied his axe.

“Executive Power,” he spoke calmly, “Abolition.”

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Coolidge and Hoover. Calvin Coolidge and Herbert Hoover did not have a good relationship, with Calvin in particular referencing to Herbert when he said “That man has offered me unsolicited advice for six years, all of it bad.”

The Platinum Star. “The Star” part of Ronda Reagan’s epitaph [The Platinum Star] references both Ronald Reagan’s job as a Hollywood actor, as well as his wife’s obsession with astrology (which is also the basis for Ronda Reagan’s fortune telling persona). The “Platinum” part has no historical basis and is simply a nod to a certain manga/anime…