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yes,
thank you Miss Jessica," said the organiser as though he was bored,
"Thank you for the room's entertainment. Now may we have a
discussion on something based on hard factual evidence rather than
what people reckon and the press's accusation of our so called
felonies. Miss Jessica, we all admire your enthusiasm, however,
this is a government discussion, not a children's playground. When
you actually bring with us some evidence that prove that the
press's and your claims are true, then we shall talk. Until then,
we will resume our previous topic of Union's-"
    "I have the
evidence," interrupted Jessica, "If you refuse to believe the
photos taken by the press then I have some of my own, along with
reports from doctors from the Deimos area and-"
    "Organiser, do
we really wish to look at our Jessica's outside holiday snaps as
evidence?" droned Jordan. Smugly.
    "Agreed, we do
not," replied the organiser, shuffling some papers on his podium,
"We shall be resuming the previous topic of Union's market
collapse-"
    "God damn it
you fools why don't you just wake up and listen to me!?" screamed
Jessica down her microphone.
    There was a
silent moment of outrage, as it was slowly taken in what Jessica
had just screamed at them. The scene was a picture, you could have
cut the atmosphere with a knife. Jessica could have cut them all
with a knife. She was more furious than she had ever been, wanting
to cry, scream and rip someone's heart out at the same time.
    The organiser
was just about to scold Jessica and probably pretty much reduce her
career down to making refreshments at the filing office where she
began, when the man walked in.
    He opened the
wooden doors with a deafening echoey bang and strode in, walking
across the centre of the silent scene, chuckling to himself.
Realisation slowly sank in on who this guy was, the room muttered
and shuffled uncomfortably. He continued his bizarre chuckling,
slowly walking across the room, his leather jacket simply hanging
off his stick like shoulders.
    "What is he
doing here?" someone asked from behind Jessica. There was no
answer. No-one knew. No-one.
    The man reached
the podium. He scraped a terrified organiser off his chair and sat
down before the microphone.
    "Ha. I thought
daytime casuals were pretty dire," he said into the microphone,
licking his lips. He had a weird falsetto American accent.
    Jessica stared
across at Jordan. The scowl on his face was almost swallowing up
his large nose.
    "Give me one
reason why I shouldn't get the Enforcers here to arrest you," he
growled through the microphone.
    "Ha." the man
chucked again, "So you do know me then? Hell, from the way you were
talking back then, I was just a figment of everyone's
imaginations."
    With that he
kicked the organiser down, who was just getting up from the floor,
climbed up onto the podium and ripped the microphone off its stand,
cables stretching upwards to his hand where he held the microphone.
The organiser moaned with pain, rolling on the floor.
    "Enforcers,"
said Jordan, signalling the Enforcers which surrounded the room to
arrest the man.
    "Wait!" said
Jessica, "Mr J, I'm assuming you have some sort of proposition or
announcement for us?"
    Both Jessica's
and the man's eyes glanced towards Jordan. The man pointed slightly
at Jessica, as though saying that he should stay on Jessica's
invite. Jordan hung his head in submission and sighed.
    "Okay then.
Okay then... 'J' or whatever you wish to be called," said Jordan
disgustingly, "Let's hear it."
    The man,
obviously known as J, smiled.
    "Excellent. Now
obviously I'm not that popular amongst... anyone really," he smiled
in his false girly American accent, "But what you guys don't
realise is, I'm like sex to you guys. Or air. You don't realise how
much you need me until I'm gone, and if I do go, you will
realise.
    "So let's cast
our minds back to when we were children. Our mommy's always used to
tell us to enjoy life and not think about our little children-like
desires, just go