The EFA lobbyists look back and forth from Bradstreet to Forbes. "Ah, welcome Per Forbes, please, have a seat. We were just discussing such a thing with Colonel Bradstreet here. This is convenient, I won't have to repeat myself." The delegate smiles, a thin-lipped variety.
"We've been promised a lot of things from politicians in this country over the years. A LOT. And not a lot of them follow through. If you look around this dining room, you're going to see a lot of politicos asking a lot of us for our money and support and offering a lot in return. I can speak for everyone in this room when I say, lets see some results first, and then we can talk about support.
Colonel Bradstreet, you get an article in the Constitution guaranteeing gun ownership rights for all Eutopians, and we'll support you. You keep acting in our interests, we'll keep supporting you. Same goes for you, Per Forbes. We see an article in that Constitution guaranteeing our rights, and we'll be in your corner. Contributing to your business could sound shady, but your election funds...sure...but we're not giving away our support for mere words."
Michael von Streusser, clad in a sleek black four-button notch tuxedo, slid through the thick and lively crowds of Carthago Nova. Amric feels a pat on his shoulder and suddenly has a 151 over ice pressed into his hand as his old friend glides past the ECLU table and heads over to his colleagues at the Society for Good Governance. Michael sits down across from John O'Floinn and von Hapsburg. "John, good to see you! Heard you had a little adventure over the border during the recent brou-ha-ha, glad to see you made it back OK. I've got a tab running, let me get you a drink. How have you been?" He waves over a waiter who takes O'Floinn's order. As that's being taken care of, Michael reaches across the table to shake von Hapsburg's hand. "Hi there, you must be Franz von Hapsburg, right? Michael von Streusser...ex-minister, like yourself. Though unlike yourself, I'll stay an ex-minister." He laughs and takes a pull from his beer.
"We've been promised a lot of things from politicians in this country over the years. A LOT. And not a lot of them follow through. If you look around this dining room, you're going to see a lot of politicos asking a lot of us for our money and support and offering a lot in return. I can speak for everyone in this room when I say, lets see some results first, and then we can talk about support.
Colonel Bradstreet, you get an article in the Constitution guaranteeing gun ownership rights for all Eutopians, and we'll support you. You keep acting in our interests, we'll keep supporting you. Same goes for you, Per Forbes. We see an article in that Constitution guaranteeing our rights, and we'll be in your corner. Contributing to your business could sound shady, but your election funds...sure...but we're not giving away our support for mere words."
* * * * *
Michael von Streusser, clad in a sleek black four-button notch tuxedo, slid through the thick and lively crowds of Carthago Nova. Amric feels a pat on his shoulder and suddenly has a 151 over ice pressed into his hand as his old friend glides past the ECLU table and heads over to his colleagues at the Society for Good Governance. Michael sits down across from John O'Floinn and von Hapsburg. "John, good to see you! Heard you had a little adventure over the border during the recent brou-ha-ha, glad to see you made it back OK. I've got a tab running, let me get you a drink. How have you been?" He waves over a waiter who takes O'Floinn's order. As that's being taken care of, Michael reaches across the table to shake von Hapsburg's hand. "Hi there, you must be Franz von Hapsburg, right? Michael von Streusser...ex-minister, like yourself. Though unlike yourself, I'll stay an ex-minister." He laughs and takes a pull from his beer.