John Rason adjusted his tie in the mirror. "Are you still fussing in there?" called a female voice. Its owner came in on high heels. "You look fine. You're going to knock them dead."

"You think so?" He turned towards her with an extended arm, catching her as she came close and planting a quick peck on her cheek. "I wasn't sure I could get this nomination."

"You worked hard for this." She hugged him in a brief squeeze before she moved around him, grabbing something from the medicine cabinet. "Not every president has a huge political career behind them, and you have enough."

His phone started ringing, but it was silent, just buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it just free enough to peek at who it was, but didn't answer it. He stuffed it back in his pocket and fussed with his hair until she had left, only to fish it back out quickly.

"Yes?"

"Is that how you greet your queen?"

"When I want to do my job, usually."

"Hmmph. You need to be elected, or rather, John Rason needs to be elected. Do this and you will be rewarded as no changeling ever has been. You will stand in the pages of history. Fail, on the other hoof..."

"I know, I know." He set the phone down and set in an earpiece so he could talk without holding the phone. "Going to a rally today, and I've been nominated. Step 1, down." He stuffed the phone into a pocket and grabbed his jacket. "Things are going smoothly."

"Getting you into that role was not easy," reminded his queen in dark tones. "Humans do not accept random new humans. Every single one is meticulously tracked."

"I know that." Of course he knew that. He was one of the changelings that had caught the original John Rason so he could wear his smooth Italian face. "I won't let this opportunity pass us by." Everything had to be exactingly perfect. His fingerprints were spot on. They had drawn so many seemingly-petty details from the man they had replaced. Passwords, habits, where he typically shopped and if he went standing up or sitting down. Nothing was deemed irrelevant.

And he had to learn it, be it. He was John Rason. He was also a changeling. He could be both, right?

John thrust a finger at the crowd. "Crane's too soft." The crowd roared with approval. "As president, I'll make sure America stands at the top of this crazy new world! We have all the cards. They're nothing, and it's time they started acting like it." The cheers only got louder. "With all of you behind me, I know we can drag America back onto its feet. This has been a rough year, but it can get better, if we start acting like we want it to!"

His message of economic salvation and mild xenophobia worked well with a great portion of the population, scared and struggling. With promises to create new jobs and a pleasing call to 'the good old days' that people could still remember, before the transition, he rapidly became a real contender for the position.

His greatest challenge was overeating. After each rally he was a bit dizzy and sick, bloated with desperate love. He could feel something... not quite right. Was he getting fat? It was possible for a changeling to do so, but also so astoundingly rare normally as to be relegated to a myth. Thankfully it didn't seem to bleed into his disguise, and the rallies went on.

John Rason strode confidently on four holed legs. He felt... great. He felt powerful. It had been months of rallies and political activity, aimed at securing the presidency with the support of the human political party that had shown its faith in him. He wasn't getting sick anymore. He just felt great.

"There you are." Chrysalis stepped into view with a razor-sharp smile. "My lovely little subject. You have served me well so far."

"With honor, my queen." He dipped his head low towards her.

"There's... something off about you." She raised a hard brow at him, considering him. "Have you grown?"

"My molting days are long behind me, Queen." He dipped his head once more before backing away. With a flash of green, he became his human self. He was still John Rason, of course. John Rason just happened to be a changeling. "My wife suspects nothing. She has complimented me on my vigor. We blame it on the excitement of the campaign."

Chrysalis stuck out her tongue with a bleh. "I don't need to hear about your tawdry human dalliances. Still, good... If she suspects nothing, you must be doing something right. Good... Keep it up."

"For the hive."

John slumped in his chair. Why did human social gatherings involve so much... excess? He had drunk perhaps a bit too much. He thought he had been careful, but the way the room heaved did not support that. He had to hold it together. He had to. A mistake there would cost so much...

"Hey, Johnny!" A hand slapped his shoulder. "You look a little green."

Oh no! Was he actually turning green?! No, no... calm... That was a turn of phrase. "I think I went a little overboard."

"Happens to the best of us." A new glass was pressed into his limp hand. "Drink up. It'll help save you from pain tomorrow."

John looked down to see a glass of clear fluid. A sniff revealed it to have no real scent. Water?

"You look doubtful." The man speaking to him shook his head slowly. "Trust me. Drink like it's going out of style."

He wasn't sure of the veracity of that, but nursing the water helped in the moment at least. "Not a single other glass," he promised as he sat up."

"Braver men than you have made that promise." The unnamed man slapped down on John's shoulder before wandering into the party.

His opponent stood across from him. "I will revive the manufacturing sector and put Americans to work making American goods."

John drew himself tall. "It's not enough to put a man behind an assembly line. We have to have pride in what we do. We used to say 'We are #1', but this is true. This is true without even a shadow of a doubt. We will make things that everyone else on this strange world will want and will pay us for. We'll take their money and know that we are #1. America, the best. Let's act like it."

The crowd began clapping and cheering, even as the organizers tried to calm them down so the debate could continue.

"Now is not the time to start building walls," argued his opponent. "We have staunch allies that are already working alongside us. America has always been greater than the sum of its parts, and that includes our allies, both internal and external."

John smiled so confidently. "I'm glad you brought that up. I'm not forgetting our friends, oh no. The Seaquestrians, Equestrians, and even those little fuzzy Lutrai; love 'em, I do. Great people. But they are not Americans." The crowd began clapping and cheering.

"Ugh, they're all the same," sighed out a young man, leaning against a counter. "Whatever you vote for, you get the same talking heads that are in the pockets of the same big money."

The other young man snatched up a handful of fries. "Yeah, but one of them's a new guy. He's not a politician."

"How do you not be a politician if you're running for president?" He sipped from his soda. "And how the hell did we start talking about this?"

"It's important," complained his friend, chomping on the fries. "The only position he ever held was a little local position in his city, once."

"So he's probably rich, and a lawyer." He sank his teeth into his burger. "That's how it works."

"Nope, neither of those. The way I see it, I want him in just to show a nobody can do it. Besides, he sounds like he's serious."

"Yeah whatever..."

"John Rason, the name on everyone's lips." The newscaster turned to her left. "Coming from seemingly nowhere, he's swept up the hearts and imaginations of the country. After a turbulent nomination cycle, he hit the ground running. With us, award winning writer of 'It's Just Politics'. Welcome, welcome."

"Good to be here." The guest nodded in his own window on the screen. "It's been quite a show of a campaign."

"Do you think it was a mistake for the opposing party to not support their incumbent? They may be regretting it now, with the polls going the way they are."

"No doubt." The author nodded gravely. "Their replacement tried to walk the middle of the aisle and he's getting flattened by the simple but direct message of the opposition. You can't fight that with half-hearted assurances."

"The race isn't over yet. With the vote still a month away, the polls have shown some wobble. Do you think the incumbent party has an ace hidden up their sleeve?"

"They better, or they'll lose. And you know what they say, it's just politics."

They shared a laugh at the tepid pun. "Thank you for coming on."

"A pleasure."

"In other news." She expanded to take up the whole of the screen. "Beastiality, or true love? The church weighs in."

Crane sat across the desk from the one that would replace him. "You ran a good race."

"Thank you. You've left large shoes for me to fill." John offered a hand across the desk.

Crane accepted it with a firm shake. "Thank you for that. Now, we need to go over a few things."

Like how to contact the world leaders he had made contact with. What projects were in process at that very moment. And what the cooks actually got right. All the little things presidents needed to know. "You're taking over during a very delicate period of our history. I hope you understand that, and are ready to face it."

"I know. Trust me, I know." John tapped at his phone, adding a few numbers that were just given to him. "This is going to be a presidency that no one forgets, one way or the other. Hopefully in a good way, right?"

"That is the hope." Crane nodded a bit stiffly, still unsure of how his own term would go down in history. "(Do you know English?)"

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, nothing." Crane waved it away, a little disappointed that his successor wouldn't know the language. "Just an old saying from home."

"Something good, I hope." He laughed lightly and swatted Crane on the shoulder. "Thank you, for your service. I'll take care of it from here."

"I hope that you do." He reached for one more shake and got it, a firm clean shake. "America needs a good president right about now."

With louds cheers and a filled plaza, John Rason was sworn in. He hadn't broken any records for attendance, but it wasn't the smallest either. He approached the stadium with a smile, waving at the people present. "As your president, my work begins today to pull us all up by our bootstraps. We have work to do. You didn't elect me for flowery speeches. I don't have time for anything but results, and I plan to get started on that right now. Thank you, all of you. Each and every vote you cast was a measure of faith."

He felt the nausea he thought had passed during the campaigning. Too many people? Possibly too many people, hoping in him, loving him. He grit his teeth and fought the urge to sway in place. "Your faith will help fuel our progress. America, #1. Now and always!"

The crowd roared with approval and bubbling patriotic cries. He waved as he stepped to the side, moving to leave the stand and assume his office.

Author's Notes:

Today is all about President Rason and how he got into the position. All him. He gets a full chapter. How'd I do?

I felt just glossing over that was a gross injustice. We really need to know who he is and how he got there. Your thoughts?

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