So that's it. The day is saved, evil's defeated, everybody gets what they deserve, and they all live happily ever after. Fade to black, roll credits.
Sure, that works in the movies. But in real life? Not so simple.
I didn't expect being mayor to be easy. Heck, I expected it to be hard. And full of politics and other things that are only slightly more interesting than Lancer's English class. (Trust me, nothing – nothing – is less interesting than Lancer's English class.) Trying to combine mayoring and schoolwork (and occasional ghost-hunting on the side) just makes it worse. And yet, I let Sam talk me into it anyway. Partly because Sam can be really persuasive when she wants to, and partly because I know she's right. This is our chance to change things. Even with that big, shiny new statue outside, who knows what the public opinion of Danny Phantom's gonna be next week? We need somebody in charge of Amity Park who knows what we're really up against, and who won't do something stupid to try and protect the town. And who won't just brush us off as 'a bunch of kids'.
The fact that everyone would have to listen to me, and that there would probably be a couple of babes who wouldn't mind saying they were dating the Mayor, was definitely a bonus. Don't get me wrong, I'd do anything for my friends (even eating – shudder – vegetables), but the things I'd do to get a date are a very close second.
If I'd known my mayoral duties were going to include this, though, I might have reconsidered. And by 'reconsidered', I mean 'run screaming in the other direction until out of range of a kick from one of Sam's steel-toed boots'.
That…thing is still sitting where I left it, watching me. Waiting to see when I'll crack. If this keeps up, I think that'll take about five more minutes.
It's totally impossible to please. If it would just tell me what it wants, then maybe we could stop playing this stupid game. But no. No, I have to fall at its feet and cater to its every whim, and it doesn't even have the decency to give me a hint. So I have to guess.
"How about steak? Everybody likes steak." I add the plate to the mouthwatering assortment of meaty treats on my desk.
It sniffs at the steak, then puts its nose in the air and turns its back. Just like it's done with everything I've offered it.
"Please don't tell me you eat that rabbit food Sam likes," I groan. It just blinks at me, sleepily, before laying its head on its paws and staring at me. Its expression says, pretty loud and clear, that I don't measure up.
"Fine then. Starve," I tell it, before getting up and leaving the mayor's office, slamming the door behind me. It should be my office, but try telling that to that…that thing in there.
I may have to never talk to Sam again for roping me into this. But…well, it really isn't her fault. Probably. Maybe. How was she supposed to know?
Then again, you'd think somebody could have mentioned that one of the mayoral duties was going to be taking care of Vlad's cat.
