|Will it look bad if I faint?|
|Abandoned by his generals the King and his lieutenants made their last hopeless stand|
All you had to do was note the number of happy faces compared to sad faces.
They parked all the faces they predicted would be unhappy in the center of the Convention Hall and surrounded them with love and happiness. That happiness, being political, was not infectious, it was infuriating. And that's how you knew who won.
The happy faces had surrounded the scrouges.
Happy faces win.
|You cwying? You cwying? Big boy like you, you cwying?|
|We lotht. Itth okay, Thteve. Give uth a kith.|
|She's got the looks that kill.|
|Good girl. Fake it, fake it, pull those cheeks into a smile by force.|
|Damn it. Didn't work. Back to looks that kill.|
|Is it hot in here or is it just me?|
|Think my eye is exploding.|
King's last stand was inglorious and his instincts led him to deal with it ungraciously.
|Note to self: If I don't want the media taking my picture, I shouldn't sit in the front row near the former PM.|
|Unhappy people, surrounded by love and Chas-piness|
When Chastanet offered the first handshake of conciliation, King refused.
|Dear Diary: Today, I'm going to break my foot off in someone's a....|
But in the end, King was still Leader of the Opposition and so there was not as much to cry about as he thought. The real loser wasn't there to face the music. He left his soldiers there to deal with it alone. The kingmaker had abandoned the King in his final moments.
|Nobody move, nobody gets hurt: TiChas holding Steve in the handshake clinch.|
King, who had always bent over, forwards and backwards, for the support of his generals made his last stand, practically alone. Chastanet supporters applauded him for his service. Or for losing with flying colors. Either way, they had achieved what they set out to achieve. The real loser was nowhere to be seen.
|"What are we going to do tomorrow night, Brains?"|
"The same thing we do every night, Pinky..."
FLAMBEAU CONVENTION PICTORIAL PTS 1-4