The President whirled about. "And who are you?"
"You might say I'm in charge here," Toffee said. "My friend and I. I think you'll discover that the Congress is suffering from shock—in a way." She nodded to the Chair. "With that one, it's something I said." The big brass crowded in curiously from the rear and ogled Toffee with enormous appreciation. "Oddly, you are just the group I've been waiting to see. I've been wanting to tell you that the time has come for you to demobilize the nation—unload all that high-powered ammunition before it goes off and hurts someone."
The President merely stared at her for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Wouldn't get a big enough laugh," he said.
"I take it you are replying in the negative?" Toffee asked.
"You got it, sis," the President said with his customary dignity. "Besides, just where do you get off telling me the time? Who signed you up for the act?"
"Allow me to present my credentials," Toffee said, and raised her hand. "You'll get a kick out of this."
A moment later President Flemm, quite to his own surprise, added acrobatic dancing to his list of talents. Toffee, aware that important persons required her best efforts, added a shot to the President's neck, having already administered to the more logical location.
President Flemm's fine tenor assailed the air with ear-splitting clarity, as his companions edged away in terror. Clutching alternately at his neck and his rear, the man leaped about like a fan dancer deprived of her feathers before a meeting of young business executives. The President gave the performance of a man who was torn in his very soul.
"Think that'll get a laugh?" Toffee asked. And then, lest the President desired companions, she quickly added the efforts of the War Department. The effect was engaging in a primitive sort of way, though there was a great deal of clanking and crashing of brass on brass.