President Ted Cruz.

President Ted Cruz's grip tightens on the podium. The teleprompter blurs as his eyes cloud with tears. "My fellow Americans," he's saying, but inside he's praying to make it stop, his stomach churns. He tastes bile. Outside, he's smiling, like they taught him.

The slideshow in his head is endless: shame, regret. The first time he'd hit Heidi, how she'd laughed at him. She was supposed to weep, curl up like a gutkicked pussycat! The rest of them did. The boy who recognized him on the webcam, that wasn't supposed to happen, the little slut.

Their eyes was what did it. It wouldn't be so bad without the eyes. "Without the eyes," he's saying, the teleprompter shifting unsurely, the American populace gaping and mute, idiots, idiots, idiots! Lord Jesus deliver me, thinks the President, Hallowed Be Thy Name, Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done, On Earth As It Is In Heaven.