house of cards 1

Chapter 6

People are vulgar.Always act according to the taste of the people.Praise the common man and make him feel like a nobleman, a prince.

Can't wait for the first round of statistical results to be announced, and the atmosphere of celebration in the party's public relations and advertising department can no longer be suppressed.With optimistic self-confidence, the employees of Merrill Grant & Jones plc have been crowded in the company's reception area for three hours.They got to witness history being made, seeing every wrinkle for themselves as they orchestrated it across two gigantic television screens.Champagne flows like a river in everyone's body, washing over the deep dish pizza and McDonald's Big Mac that are constantly being poured into our mouths.Despite the massive reduction in the predicted government majority, the party animals seem to be all the more excited about it.Although it is still early, everyone knows that the two decorative fig trees that have graced the reception area for several years will not survive tonight; destiny.Most sensible people are pacing their minds, but there doesn't seem to be much need for self-restraint.Either way, the company's clients set an insanely horrible example.

Like many "outside" adventurers from Dublin, Roger O'Neill was renowned for his quick wits, and of course his irresistible capacity for grandiosity, and his irrepressible determination to get involved in anything and persist.His energy was so high, his passions so diverse, that no one was quite sure what he had been doing before he joined the party—probably something related to PR or television, they all thought.There were also rumors that he had run into trouble with the Inland Revenue, or the Irish police.When the position of Director of the Propaganda Department was vacant, he was just idle. After taking office, he displayed his charm and ability, and all of this was driven by endless Gaul cigarettes and vodka.He took these two things as a tonic.

As a young man he was gifted in rugby as a promising outside midfielder, but he squandered his talents.He is not suitable for team sports because he shows himself too much. "If he's on the field," complained his coach, "I'm leading two teams, one with Roger and one with fourteen other guys. To hell with him." Roger was in the Every aspect of life is always "hell".Until the god of fate favored him, smiled at him, and brought him to Smith Square.Now that the years have passed, his unruly black hair has obviously turned gray, and his muscle tone has long since disappeared.But O'Neill rejected evidence that the men had passed middle age.He's good at hiding, always choosing and matching what he wears carefully, with a deliberately casual chic attitude that allows these designer brands to do their best work.His un-Anglican demeanor and a lingering Irish accent have not always endeared him to party dignitaries.A big man once commented loudly that he was "full of nonsense, without a bottom line", but others would be deeply shocked by his vitality and aura that is different from ordinary people.

Trekking through the dangerous bushes of politics, he has a very capable assistant along the way-Penelope, who always introduces herself as "Penny".She is about 1.7 meters seven, and she is simply a "clothes rack" that makes people shine.There is also one thing that makes her stand out in Westminster, a place where elites gather. She is black, but her dark skin does not overshadow her. Her whole body exudes a carefully carved brilliance, Like a charming midnight; eyes twinkle like stars, and a smile always fills the room.She has a college degree in art history, can write shorthand at 120 words per minute, and is relentlessly realistic.The first time she "airborne" here with O'Neal, there was inevitably a flurry of buzz and speculation.But her sheer efficiency silenced, and even conquered, many of the still many skeptics.

She also maintained absolute caution. “I have a private life,” she explained when asked. “Let’s stop here.”

Now, at Merrill Grant & Jones, or "Grumble & Poor" as Penny calls it, the "Ice Beauty" is effortlessly a couple of over-energy media buyers and deputy creative directors. At the same time, it succeeded in ensuring that O'Neill always had alcohol and smoke, but not too much.She didn't want him to get drunk, especially tonight.At this time, he was having an in-depth discussion with the general manager of the company.

"The future starts here, Jeremy, you gotta see this and hold on to it. We need to get that market analysis ASAP. That way we can see how much of what we do works, how great those ads are , how much impact they made, how we hit the target voters. If we win, let everyone know that we are credited. If we lose, it will be to the gods..." Suddenly he violently Sneezed, "Fuck! I'm sorry, it's all due to this nasty hay fever. If we lose, I'll let the damn world know that we also handily beat our opponents in communication and screwed up What happened was the political mess."

He moved a little closer to each other, and their foreheads almost touched their foreheads. "You know what we need, Jeremy. Our reputation is on the line, and it's not just the politicians who are in danger. Don't fuck me up. Make sure you get the analysis by Saturday morning. I Would like to see it in the Sunday papers, with content as beautiful as an actress' ass."

"I thought I was the creative one," Jeremy said admiringly, taking another sip of champagne, "but we don't have much time."

O'Neill lowered his voice, stepped forward a little more, so that the ad man could smell the sour taste of French tobacco on his breath. "If you can't get the numbers, then make the fuck up for me. Everyone's exhausted, and no one is going to study it seriously. As long as we grab the opportunity and stand up, we'll be fine."

He paused, and blew his nose loudly, causing Jeremy who was nearby couldn't bear to look straight at him, "Don't forget to order flowers. The first thing you do tomorrow morning is to deliver the most beautiful and conspicuous bouquet you can find nearby to Tang Ning The hands of the Prime Minister's wife. Flowers to be arranged in a giant 'C'. Make sure she gets it as soon as she wakes up."

"Of course it's in your name."

"She will be very confused if the flowers don't arrive, because I have told her that I will. I hope the TV cameras can capture the flowers entering the door."

"Let the TV station know who sent it." Jeremy added.

"We're grasshoppers on a string, Jeremy."

But it only has your name on it, Jeremy almost said.Sometimes the truth can get you over the edge.He was used to clients' non-breathing tirade by now, as well as O'Neill's unusual instructions and accounting procedures.A political party is different from other clients, with wildly different and sometimes dangerous rules.But working with this client over the past two years has given Jeremy and his young company so much exposure that any unresolved questions have been nipped in the bud.However, as everyone nervously waited for the election results, a silent fear rose in his heart, thinking about what would happen if he lost.Although O'Neill has repeatedly said that they are in the same boat, he is also very sure that the company will be a scapegoat.Everything was different when I first started working, and the polls showed the government was winning.And now, with the results of the exit polls, his confidence has evaporated a little.In his line of work, face is everything, and a company's reputation can easily wither like a faded flower.

O'Neill continued to chatter, with uncontrollable excitement in his voice, bubbling like boiling water.Until the attention of both of them was attracted by the 1.8m[-] Sir Arisdell on the screen.He was pressing his hands to his ears, his head tilted to one side.Something was coming through his earphones.

"Now we should have the first round of tallies tonight. It is said that Toppey is the first to release. Breaking all records. Just 43 minutes after the polls closed, I have seen the candidates assembled behind the election inspectors Yes. Please watch the live broadcast next..."

The Victorian assembly hall of Torbay Constituency was packed, and there was tension in the hot and humid room.Bundles of counted ballots lined up on trestle stands, and empty black tin ballot boxes were piled aside.At one end of the podium, among the hyacinths and spider lilies, under the rosette decoration and the municipal emblem, the candidates gathered.The announcement of the results of the first round of voting is about to take place, but this scene is not like an election, but like a rural pantomime.Since the media across the country were reporting, the candidates who came were not only upset, but also determined to show off.They fought desperately to capture the moment, many shaking their balloons and brightly colored hats, trying to get the cameras to focus on them.

The Sunny party candidate, head-to-toe in a sun-bright bodysuit dangling a comically large plastic sunflower, stood out deliberately in front of the formally dressed Conservative candidate.The Conservative candidate, in a neat suit and well-groomed hair, tried to move to the left to avoid the embarrassing situation, but bumped into the National Front candidate, who was clenching his fists to show off his full arms. Tattoo, set off a small sensation.The Conservative candidate, desperate to look decent but unable to remember if there was any guidance on how to deal with the situation in the candidate guidebook, reluctantly retreated behind the sunflower.Meanwhile, the Keep the Seas Clean party candidate, a young lady in blue and green chiffon, walked up and down in front of everyone, with a trail several meters behind her, following She moved and churned, looking like a rushing ocean wave.

The mayor coughed twice into the microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. As the election supervisor of the Topay constituency, I hereby announce that the voting results are as follows..."

"Colorful Toppey has given its results," said Sir Arisdell's solemn voice again, "the government has the first seat tonight, but with a lower majority and, according to the computer, the swing trend is against it , down nearly eight points. What does that mean, Pete?" With the news anchor's question, the camera cuts to the channel's academic commentator.A slightly stocky, bespectacled figure in an Oxford tweed top appeared on the screen.

"That means the exit polls are pretty accurate, Arisdell."

(End of this chapter)