4 - The White House Correspondents' Dinner
Vincent Blackwood stepped out of the sleek black limousine, his piercing blue eyes scanning the sea of flashing cameras and eager faces. His date, a stunning woman with cascading auburn hair and an elegant gown that shimmered under the lights, clung to his arm with grace. They were the epitome of elegance as they glided down the red carpet toward the entrance of the White House Correspondents' Dinner.
The grand ballroom was filled with the who's who of Washington D.C. Important politicians and influential businessmen mingled beneath the ornate chandeliers, their laughter and conversations creating a symphony of power and influence. Senator Jameson, known for his sharp wit and even sharper political maneuvers, exchanged pleasantries with Governor Lee, whose environmental policies had recently, and quite literally, made waves across the country. Nearby, tech magnate Richard Crane discussed future innovations with media mogul Caroline Sterling, both of them glancing at Blackwood as he entered the room.
Paparazzi swarmed around Blackwood, cameras flashing, voices clamoring to be heard.
"Mr. Blackwood, who’s your date tonight?"
"Mr. Blackwood, a comment on your latest foreign contracts?"
He offered a polite but firm smile, refusing to answer any questions as he escorted his anonymous date to their table. His presence commanded attention, a natural authority that erupted the room with questions everywhere he passed.
The dinner was a lavish affair, with tables adorned with elegant centerpieces and the finest china. Waiters moved seamlessly through the crowd, serving gourmet dishes with practiced ease and synchronicity. Blackwood's date drew envious glances from every corner of the room, her beauty only adding to her mystique.
As dessert was served, the lights dimmed, and the stage was set for the evening's entertainment - the much-anticipated roasting ceremony. The lead cast of Saturday Night Live took their places, their expressions a mix of excitement and mischief. They took turns at the microphone, each bringing their own flavor to the roast.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" Michael Che, the host, began, a grin spreading across his face. "It's that time of the night where we get to poke fun at the people we love to hate... or hate to love,” a sly wink. “And who better to start with than our dear President Harrison?"
Anticipatory laughter rippled through the crowd.
He continued, "You know, he's the guy who makes D&D’s 'chaotic neutral' look like a strategic political stance. And, boy, does he have a unique way of running things."
Colin Jost stepped up to the microphone next to Michael Che, the game of Twister clearly in his hands. "One day President Harrison is all for universal healthcare, the next he’s privatizing the VA. It's like watching someone play a political version of Twister!" Colin Jost and Michael Che proceeded to get into a very awkward and sexual pose on the game board with rehearsed efficiency.
The audience laughed, and the President chuckled, shaking his head with an odd half-grin, half-frown. Colin and Michael left the stage with the Twister game and Kate McKinnon approached the mic with a black ball.
"Seriously, Mr. President, your policies are so all over the place, it's like you're running the country with a Magic 8-Ball as your top advisor. Should we support the new education bill?” she asked the 8-Ball in her hands and shook it. “Ask again later." She shrugged.
More laughter filled the room, and then another burst of laughter erupted as the spotlight shifted to the President. Michael Che had brought the president a Magic 8-Ball and the President was shaking it and pointing at the result, nodding enthusiastically in jest.
Tina Fey replaced Kate at the microphone, "And let's not forget foreign policy. One day you're hugging world leaders, the next you're tweeting about nuking their countries. It's like you're running a reality show called 'Diplomacy: Extreme Edition.'"
The president laughed, pulling out his phone to post a new tweet about the roasting ceremony. 'Having a blast at the #WHCD tonight! Thanks to the @nbcsnl cast for the laughs—apparently my policies are as predictable as a cat on a Roomba! 😂 Politics is all about balance, right? #ChaoticNeutral #DiplomacyExtremeEdition.'
Michael Che returned to the microphone, "President Harrison, your stance on climate change is a real mystery. One moment you're attending global environmental summits, the next you're approving offshore drilling. It's like you're trying to see how much you can confuse Al Gore before he combusts."
The room erupted in laughter, and the President raised his hands in mock surrender.
Colin Jost joined Michael Che at the microphone again. Colin continued, "But in all seriousness, Mr. President, your swaying stances might be unconventional, but hey, it keeps us on our toes. Just remember, in politics, like in comedy, timing is everything." Kate McKinnon had quickly changed outfits and was seen in the background attempting an unpracticed ballerina dance on her toes.
The crowd applauded, the playful jabs well-received. The President gave a gracious nod, clearly enjoying the lighthearted ribbing and seeming completely unphased. The roast continued, the room filling with laughter and camaraderie, each joke further cementing the night's memorable moments.
Michael Che said, "President Harrison, you've done such a great job of leading this country... straight into Vincent Blackwood's pockets!"
The room erupted in laughter, Blackwood charismatically making a bashfully surprised expression.
Colin Jost, "Seriously though, Mr. President, when Blackwood Technologies installed new surveillance systems at the White House, we didn't realize it came with a direct feed to Vincent's penthouse."
Another wave of laughter, and Blackwood couldn't help but smirk.
Michael Che, "And speaking of Vincent Blackwood, the man, the myth, the legend. Vincent, your business ventures are so successful, I'm surprised you haven't started selling immortality."
The crowd roared, some glancing nervously at Blackwood, who portrayed a facade of unfazed. Underneath, however, Blackwood was simmering at the use of the word “immortality.” He tried to focus on the roasting ceremony, but he kept envisioning draining and dismembering them both.
Why would the cast of SNL talk about him selling immortality of all things? Who gave them that idea? Blackwood thought to himself amidst his disturbing daydreams.
Colin Jost, "But in all seriousness, Vincent, you funded the President's campaign and all but ensured his election. It's nice to see someone who still believes in the old-fashioned American values... like buying a President!"
The laughter was loud and prolonged, the jokes hitting close to home but delivered with a playful edge that kept the mood light. Amid the laughter and his inner thoughts, Blackwood failed to notice a waiter slipping a small package into his date's clutch, her fingers closing around it with a protective clasp.
As the roasting was concluding and the attention shifted away from Blackwood, Blackwood's mind wandered. He exchanged amused glances with his date, both of them enjoying the spectacle. When the ceremony fully concluded, the room buzzed with residual laughter and conversation.
After a few hours of careful networking, Blackwood and his date exited the ballroom and stepped into their awaiting limousine, the door closing with a soft thud. Inside, Marcus awaited them, his expression serious.
"Marcus," Blackwood greeted, settling into the plush leather seat. Marcus is Blackwood’s Number 1. He commands the loyalty of Blackwood's minions well, through fear and intimidation, ruling over them with an iron fist and a merciless hand.
"Sire," Marcus replied, his tone grave. "The Mayor has failed to get rid of Detective Turner. She's still a problem."
Blackwood's eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "Three days ago she was useless and we had nothing to worry about. What’s with the sudden 180?”
“She requested a warrant for your house yesterday morning. Victor caught it right away so it wasn’t approved, but she suspects you now.”
“We'll deal with her soon enough. For now, let's focus on the next step." Blackwood’s arrogance made him unconcerned. “After all, this is why we have Victor.”
“You’re right, sire. Regardless, I’ll ensure she isn’t a problem for much longer,” Marcus had a cruel undertone.
“We have another problem. Someone writing for S.N.L. knows about vampires. They made a joke about how I should be selling immortality. Fix it.”
“Yes, sire,” and Marcus picked up his phone to call one of their vampires at NBC.
Blackwood’s date remained silent as the two vampires colluded, her fingers lightly brushing against the package concealed in her clutch. Her eyes fixed on the city lights flashing by the window as the limousine sped into the night, she felt a calm she hadn’t experienced since she was kidnapped.