The Running Mate

The following takes place following: Under Suspicion

A few days later, at the Walvers cottage, Travers lounges in the living room, casually flipping through a Playpen magazine. Meanwhile, Master Devlin prepares to send Mr. Boothe out with a fresh batch of campaign flyers. The television hums in the background, tuned to WBC News 24, which airs continuous coverage of Barry Scott’s assassination investigation.

Master Devlin: …Also, I need you to dig up any dirt you can find on Gail Platt. We still don’t know if she’s going to run, but as Barry’s running mate, there’s a good chance.

Mr. Boothe: Yes, sir. Better to be proactive.

Master Devlin: Indeed. We need to confirm whether Gail Platt is legally dead, actually dead, or just some kind of glitch in the matrix… If you can’t get that, then any dirt will do, and we’ll run with that.

Mr. Boothe: Absolutely, sir.

Master Devlin: Oh, and Mr. Boothe—just to be clear—when I say "dirt," I mean information that damages her reputation. Not, well… actual dirt.

Mr. Boothe: Ah, right. Very good, sir.

Mr. Boothe jots down notes and mutters to himself.

Mr. Boothe: "Damage… reputation…" Needn’t worry, sir. If there’s dirt, I’ll find it. Though, we may need to consult the oracle about that other matter…

Travers: You’re wasting your time. She’s a crackpot and a coward. No way she’d dare run against Travers...

Seven seconds later—

WBC Anchor: And now, breaking news here on WBC—Gail Platt, running mate to the late Barry Scott, has just confirmed that she will be running for mayor…

Travers: Oh, for crying out loud! Why are you doing this to me, Ed??

Master Devlin: Well, that settles it. She’s effectively secured the entire Witherfield vote—and Guthrie Goven’s constituency. Do you still want to campaign there?

Travers: Hmm… Might not be worth the time. Though, I suppose we could still send Mr. Boothe over. What about you? Do you hold much sway in that community?

Master Devlin: Only with the women, perhaps. The men keep attacking me. But I doubt it will help much.

Travers: Ah yes, I recall that editorial Widdle Frunkut wrote for the Waldopolis Chronicle, where he detailed your… famed fondness for Witherfield trolls.

Master Devlin: That was a slanderous hit piece!

Travers: Really? It was quite detailed. It went into your many ethnic heritages… I had no idea you were such a multi-ethnic dragon!

The Master growls in frustration.

Master Devlin: It’s FALSE! Anyway, there’s a civil claim from Gail Platt that Waldo—the manager—bathed her daughter and granddaughter at his hotel and claimed it was company policy. The problem is, that actually happened.

Travers: Sounds like a sound policy! Maybe we should adopt it—except with me as manager.

Master Devlin: I wouldn’t recommend it. And we should probably avoid the Witherfield area entirely.

Travers: Perhaps Mayuri could persuade the men there to vote our way…

Master Devlin: How?? By putting her back on the street?

Travers: Well… Um… May, dear, do you still have that hooker outfit?

Mayuri: 😳😦😑😔

Master Devlin: Good god, Travers! This is a new low. What is wrong with you?

Travers: Alright, alright! Never mind, forget it… Just a thought. Well then, I think it’s time for another smear campaign—and that is your domain. I should be out kissing babies or something. Set that up too. Travers sits back, ogling the models in his magazine.

Master Devlin: You expect me to do everything while you just sit there? This is your campaign! Why can’t you do something productive for a change? Travers sighs dramatically, making sure everyone hears him, then tosses his magazine aside.

Travers: Alright… FINE. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.

Master Devlin: Where are you going?

Travers: To take care of this Gail problem. Don’t worry about it.

Travers storms out, a goblin on a mission.

Mayuri: 😯

****

The Next Day:

****

The Master skims through the Inquisitor article, raising an eyebrow.

Master Devlin: How did you get Sarah to turn?

Travers: Travers has his ways… 😏

The Master shakes his head in disapproval.

Master Devlin: You pig.

Travers: This is war, Master Devlin... You asked me to do something, so I did. I think this will work quite nicely for us.

Master Devlin: Do you think you can actually get her to make a statement to the press? The Waldoverse Inquisitor is just trashy paparazzi nonsense. I don’t condone such filth, but you’ve done it now. You might have a chance to turn the Witherfield vote. But you’ll need Sarah to endorse you. And you’ll need to keep her sweet.

Travers turns on the TV with a smug smile.

Travers: Well, would you look at that—the charming Miss Sarah-Lou is giving an interview on This Morning...

He turns up the volume.

Sarah: Mr. Travers is a very wise man. I encourage everyone to put aside any envy they might have toward him and do the right thing for Widdlington. And although I love my mum, she’s been unstable for years—even before she died and came back… That’s why I’m voting Travers for mayor.

Travers: Very keen girl, that one… Excellent judge of character.

Master Devlin: I see… Well… Well done, I suppose. Though how much this helps also depends on how much sway she has in that community. I heard she’s a bit of a hussy. Did you brainwash her?

Travers: Not at all. I just used my usual national treasure charms…

Mayuri looks annoyed. She shakes her head and starts cleaning the kitchen.

Later that day…

BREAKING NEWS: GAIL PLATT IN CRITICAL CONDITION – CANDIDATE RUSHED TO J. SAVILE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL AFTER SUSPECTED DRUG OVERDOSE...

Travers pops open a bottle of champagne.

Travers: Travers, you’ve done it again... I, for one, couldn’t be happier with the way this turned out.

Master Devlin: Hrmm… Yes, indeed.

Season 6 continues in Swine Flu