He-gseth Man
Hegseth saluted the generals seated round the big table, turned on his heels and left the Pentagon meeting room. His aide, Chad, held the door for him. Some of the generals gave Hegseth the middle finger behind his back, a couple did the wanker gesture, and one silently mouthed ‘prick’ as he departed.
Hegseth marched down the corridor, literally. He swung his arms and did ‘left, right, left, right’ under his breath. Chad scuttled along behind, carrying an armful of top-secret folders.
When Hegseth reached his office, he raised his palm to Chad’s face and said, “The secretary of war does not require your assistance this afternoon. Stand down, soldier.”
Chad nodded, saluted and dropped all the top-secret folders. Hegseth rolled his eyes and went into his office, slamming the door behind him.
Inside, and with the door firmly shut, Hegseth visibly deflated, balling himself up and letting out a pained howl. He covered his face with his palms and began to sob inconsolably, his shoulders and back quaking beneath his special extra-tight, shiny suit.
“Get it together, Pete. For god’s sake, get it together, you fucking loser!” he whispered to himself.
He straightened up, letting out a quivering breath and smoothing out his tie. But it was no use. Another wave of despair crashed over him, and his sobbing returned; more guttural and desperate than ever. Hegseth slumped to the ground, then rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up to his chest.
“You fucking worthless loser, they all hate you, just like Mom. You get everything wrong! You don’t deserve to be the boss of the army. You fucking loser!”
There was a delicate knock at the door and a gentle voice from outside.
“Mr Secretary, sir? Can I, erm, assist you, sir?”
Hegseth gulped and cleared his throat nervously, “Er, No. I’m fine, thank you, Chad, er, soldier.”
There was a pause. Hegseth sniffed and closed his eyes tight, desperately willing Chad to go away.
“If you’re sure, sir?”
Eyes screwed shut and foetal on the office floor, Hegseth whispered over and over to himself, “Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone.”
There was a shifting outside the door, and then Chad spoke again, softly, “Sir? I… I just wanted to say that if you ever need to talk…”
Hegseth exploded! “Just go, Chad! Go away! GO! A! WAY!”
Another pause.
“If that’s what you want, sir”
Hegseth listened to Chad’s footsteps receding down the corridor. A trail of clear snot dripped from his nostril onto his American flag rug. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“It’s ok. It’s ok. You know what you need. You know what makes it better,” he whispered.
Hegseth unfolded himself and got gingerly to his feet. He wiped his nose and wet cheeks with his hand, then wiped the flat of his palm up and down on his thigh. To all the world, he looked like a little boy who had fallen in the playground. He took another shaky breath, went over to his big desk, and sat down in his big leather chair.
He tapped the desk anxiously with his fingertips and took a few more recentring breaths. Once stable, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his too-tight shirt. He pulled out a small silver key that hung around his neck on a tatty bit of red string. Lifting it over his greasy head, he unlocked his desk drawer.
Hegseth stared down into the drawer and let out a kind of resigned but relieved sigh.
He unbuttoned his too-tight trousers and, after a moment, hesitantly reached into the drawer.
He pulled out a grubby-looking Barbie doll, one side of her hair cut at an acute angle, her stained Stars and Stripes swimsuit trailing wispy synthetic threads. Next out came a Beanie Baby Eagle, dishevelled and heavily bobbled, its beany innards poorly distributed. Next came a He-Man action figure; his bondage harness accessory was missing, so he was effectively just dressed in furry belted pants and matching go-go boots. On one of He-Man’s sizeable plastic pectorals, drawn in Sharpie, was a crucifix; on his back, the word ‘Slut’ had been scrawled.
Leaving his desk drawer open, Hegseth sat Barbie and the Eagle next to each other on the desk facing He-Man. He took a moment to balance the toys, checking the scene was just so. Then he stood up and pulled his too-tight trousers and pants down to his ankles and sat back down, bare-bottomed.
His eyes fixed on Barbie and the Eagle, he said, “Ok, I’m ready.”
The Barbie jerked her head, suddenly turning to the Eagle. Hegseth flinched at the uncanny movement.
Barbie spoke, “He’s your fucking Son! Deal with him, you pussy!”
The Eagle slowly rotated its pillowy body towards the Barbie.
“Now come on, honey. I think we should hear Peter’s side of the story before we go off at the deep end.”
The He-Man creakily rotated his head to look at Hegseth; his plastic features were a mask of terror.
“Go ahead, little Petey”, said Hegseth, “Tell your folks what happened.”
He-Man turned back to Barbie and the Eagle and stammered, “I, I… didn’t…”
“Bullshit, you little bastard!” Spat Barbie.
The Eagle reached out a matted, bobbly wing and patted Barbie’s stiff and unyielding knee in an attempt to pacify his furious trophy wife. He addressed the frightened-looking He-Man.
“Now, Peter, there must be a reason those boys all said mean things about you. Can you think of what you might have done to make them hate you so much?”
He-Man looked ever more desperate and glanced back nervously at Hegseth, who made a gesture that suggested He-Man get on with replying to his Eagle father.
“I, I didn’t… I don’t know why, they just… they just don’t like me…”
“And why would they, you pathetic little stain!? You can’t do this job, and they know it! You need a reality check, Mister; this country deserves better. There’s only one thing that you’re good for, and we all know what that is!”
Barbie was vicious; every word dripped with revulsion for her plastic boy child.
Tears started to well in Hegseth’s eyes as the terrified He-Man looked up at him, his expression pleading and desperate.
“Well”, said the eagle, “I’m afraid I have to agree with your mother, little Petey. If you can’t act in a way that makes these people respect you, then you know what has to happen.”
“But… I’ll try harder, I will… please!” The He-Man was frantic.
Barbie sneered.
“I’m sorry, son,” said the eagle to He-Man. Then he turned and looked up at Hegseth and said, “In your own time, soldier.”
Hegseth got to his feet awkwardly; he stumbled and reached out momentarily to steady himself on the desk as he tripped on the trousers and pants around his ankles. Once upright, he fumbled in his pocket for his phone and tapped and swiped until the opening bars of the Star Spangled banner began to play from the phone’s tinny speaker.
He reached out and picked up He-Man.
“No! No! Please! I’ll try harder! I’m sorry!” He Man pleaded, as Hegseth brought him up to eye level.
The National Anthem rang out. Barbie and the eagle attempted to salute, although because of her lack of elbows, Barbie’s salute was more of an arm straight up affair.
Hegseth saluted with his free hand. Looking the petrified He-Man in the eye, he said, “It’s for your own good, little Petey; it’s the only way you’ll learn.”
He-Man screamed a final desperate plea at Hegseth, “Please! No! I’ll be better, I promise! I’ll be better!”
The national anthem swelled to its patriotic crescendo.
“The laaaand of the brave and the home — of — the — free.”
In one swift move, Hegseth rammed the He-Man headfirst up his bum, snapped to attention, then sat down hard on his big leather chair.
***
Somewhere in the bowels of the Pentagon, Chad heard a distant, pained howl; he looked up momentarily from his top-secret files and mouthed “prick” under his breath.
