Two weeks later, the radio station gave Laguna a confirmation phone call telling him they received and accepted his photo. (It took two weeks, for Laguna forgot to write the station's address, then tried to send the envelope air-mail when the radio station was a few blocks away, and then the price of postage was raised without warning. Hence, the same envelope came back to the presidential building numerous times. When it finally reached the disc jockey, it was covered in "Return to Sender" stamps scribbled over by black marker.)
Ring. Laguna snatched the phone to his ear. "Hello!"
"Hello, Mr. Loire?"
"This is me - er - he."
"Good! Are you ready to call someone up and ask them to take your laundry to get cleaned?"
"Sure am!" he replied cheerfully.
"Now remember, you can't tell them why. Just go ahead and dial the number like you'd normally do and we'll be here listening."
The president shook his head in response, despite the fact that the man couldn't see him. He quickly punched in an area code and seven-digit number. The ringing quietly hummed on his line, then stopped and was replaced by a hollow click.
"Hello?"
"Hey, son!"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"...Laguna."
"Yup, it's me! Listen Squall, I got dirt all over my clothes when I gave Pooky his bath-"
"Isn't Pooky your goldfish?" Squall questioned.
Laguna immediately faked a coughing fit, allowing him more time to think of a response. "...Oh, Pooky died, so I got a dog and named him after the deceased," he said slowly, as if in mourning.
"Someone actually sold you a dog?"
"Yeah...Why wouldn't they?"
"It's just-" Squall paused shortly. "Nevermind. What did you want?"
Laguna brought the receiver to his other ear. "I was wondering if you could take some of my dirty clothes to the laundry."
"No."
"Aww, c'mon!"
"No."
"Just a few socks?"
"NO."
The president tapped his fingers on his desk nervously. "Hey!" he whispered. "Can I bribe him?"
"What? Bribe who?" Squall questioned.
Another muffled voice came over the line, this one Squall could not identify. "Whatever, just get him to do it!" it growled.
Laguna tried once more, now using his normal tone. "How about if I give you a twenty?"
"Laguna...Who were you talking to?"
He laughed heartily, then totally disregarded Squall's question. "So how 'bout it?"
"WHO were you talking to? Who's there?" he demanded.
"I've got a lot of land here in Esthar. I'll sell you a share if you wash my clothes."
"What the hell is going on over there?" he inquired angrily. "I don't have time to wash your clothes. Don't you have maids that do that stuff?"
"I-"
"You're the most powerful man in the world. I think you could find SOMEONE to clean your clothes other than your own flesh and blood."
"I-"
"You know how many tests, missions, and junior delinquents I have to take, go on, and see today?"
"Actu-"
"I'm busy. Don't call here again!"
Click!
Laguna stood silently for a moment, somewhat alarmed at what his son had just done, although he had done it before... "Can I call up someone else?"
"Uh..."
"It'll only take a sec!" He punched in a number and waited for someone to pick it up.
No more than two seconds passed before a female voice resounded through the line. "Good day, Mr. President. How may I help you?"
"Hello, Claire!" he greeted cheerfully. "Do you mind cleaning a load of my laundry?"
"Of course not, sir!" she laughed. "You're always so polite! I'll get right on it, buh-bye!"
Click! The presidential maid hung up and started toward Laguna's office.
Laguna nodded proudly to himself. "Tada!"
"Did she call you 'Mr. President'?" the radio announcer asked.
"Er...yes, that was my nickname in high school..." he explained. Somewhere in the distance, Kiros groaned.
"Well, congratulations, Mr. Loire! The judges have decided to overlook the first phone call because it boosted our ratings! Looks like you get to go on to the third round!"
Double-doors flew open as a giddy Laguna bounded into the common room.
"I get to go on to the third taaaask!" he sang. Kiros and Ward regarded him uninterestedly.
"We know," stated Kiros coolly.
Laguna's face dropped. "How did you know?"
"We tapped your phone line."
There was a brief silence, Laguna contemplating the matter quietly to himself.
"Oh," he said, lowering his arms that had been raised in victory.
"We have tape after tape of your phone conversations," continued Kiros, motioning to a stack of small cassettes. Laguna still didn't get it.
"Oh," he repeated, staring blankly at the pile.
Ward sent Kiros a look.
"We could probably blackmail you with some of them." He paused, waiting for the president to catch on. "If it was ever necessary."
Laguna scratched the back of his head. "...You want some of the prize?"
"Hell yes."