A lazy Sunday afternoon had settled over the Woody residence. In the living room, Pete was asleep in his recliner, a fishing magazine resting on his chest, his mouth slightly open in a snore. Misty was in the kitchen, humming along to a classic rock station as she prepared a batch of pepperoni rolls, the savory aroma filling the house.
In his bedroom, Christopher Day was sitting in his gaming chair. The election was a thing of the past. He had accepted his fate. He had decided, in a moment of quiet resignation, to simply ride the wave of insanity and see where it took him.
The quiet of the afternoon was disrupted by the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway. It wasn't the sound of a single car. It was the sound of several, arriving in succession.
Chris looked up from his monitor, curiosity pulling him to the window. He saw a dark blue Ford Explorer pull in behind Pete's truck. It was followed by a modest, silver hybrid, and then a slightly fancier-looking black sedan.
"Hey, Mom?" he called out, his voice a little tight. "We expecting company?"
In the living room, Pete's snore was cut short by the sound of the cars. He woke with a start, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He sat up, saw the vehicles lined up in his driveway, and a frown creased his brow.
"What in the world...?"
Misty came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, confusion on her face. The three of them stood at the large picture window, a silent, baffled family unit, and watched as the entire Buckhannon Town Council, led by Ralph Hardwick, got out of the cars. They gathered in the driveway for a moment, an awkward huddle of bureaucrats in their before walking in a solemn procession toward the front porch.
The doorbell rang, a two-note chime. Pete, his expression a mix of suspicion and a simmering anger, strode to the door. If this was about property lines again... He glanced back at Chris, who was now hovering nervously in the hallway. "What in the world do they want now? And on a Sunday," he asked, his voice a low, accusatory rumble.
Pete opened the door to find Ralph Hardwick, four other council members, and someone else, standing awkwardly on his porch, looking uncomfortable. They looked like a choir that had forgotten the words to their song. The town's lawyer, a man named Jack with a tired expression, stood slightly behind them, holding an official-looking document.
Hardwick, his face a weary landscape of defeat, ignored Pete completely. His eyes found Chris, who was still lurking in the shadows of the hallway. He held up the document, his voice a flat, weary monotone devoid of all emotion, the voice of a man performing an unpleasant, but legally mandated, duty.
"Christopher Day?" Hardwick asked, his tone leaving no room for doubt that he already knew the answer.
Chris, feeling like a suspect in a police lineup, gave a small, hesitant nod.
"On behalf of the citizens of Buckhannon and the official Mayoral Identification Committee," Hardwick began, reading from the document with all the passion of a man reading a grocery list, "our official investigation has identified you as the sole individual responsible for the creation and initial dissemination of the online persona 'Bucky Watcher.' As this legally registered and democratically elected candidate has won the recent recall election with a clear and undisputed majority, and as you meet all legal requirements for the office, including age and residency..." He paused, taking a deep, fortifying breath, the words clearly tasting revolting in his mouth. "On behalf of the town of Buckhannon, I am here to officially offer you the position of mayor."
The words hung in the stunned silence of the living room. Misty, who had been standing by the kitchen doorway, brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with a maternal confusion that transcended all known forms of logic. Mayor? My Chris? My boy who still sometimes eats cereal for dinner?
Pete, however, went still. His face, which had held an expression of suspicion, went slack. He looked from the defeated councilman on his porch to the pale, terrified face of reclusive stepson. He stared at Chris, his mouth hanging slightly open, his mind struggling to process.
Chris, finding his voice after a long, stunned moment, stammered out the only logical, sensible response. "No." The word was a weak, strangled squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again, his voice a little stronger, a little more desperate.
"Absolutely not. I decline."
The town lawyer, Jack, stepped forward, his expression one of polite, bureaucratic regret. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Mr. Day," he said, his voice dry and devoid of any emotion. "Under the provisions of the Town Charter of 1899, the same charter, I might add, that was so cleverly used to nullify the zoning violation against this very property, a legally elected official who meets all qualifications for office is lawfully required to accept the duties to which they were elected."
He adjusted his glasses. "To refuse to serve would be to willingly and knowingly obstruct the lawful function of the town's government. The council could, and I assure you, would, file a civil injunction to compel you to serve. You are, for all legal intents and purposes, trapped."
As the weight of the lawyer's words, the final, inescapable bars of his political prison, settled upon him, Christopher Day's entire field of vision was consumed by a brilliant, shimmering, golden notification.
[WORLD QUEST COMPLETED!]
[QUEST: Civic Stabilization]
[STATUS: Success!]
[TIME ELAPSED: 12 Weeks, 4 Days, 8 Hours]
[PERFORMANCE RATING: A- (User successfully stabilized all key community metrics, but a significant portion of the success was the result of accidental, chaotic, and wildly unpredictable effects. Recommend further study in the [Causal Analysis] skill and related skills.)]
[Quest Completed! 20,000 XP Awarded!]
[NEW TITLE UNLOCKED: Mayor-Elect of Buckhannon]
His experience bar, which had been slowly inching its way toward the next level, exploded. It filled in an instant, a brilliant flash of golden light that was followed by a triumphant, orchestral fanfare, a cascade of horns and strings that echoed in his mind.
[Congratulations! You have reached Reality Architect (LVL 10)!]
[+1 Class Skill Point]
[MILESTONE REACHED: You have reached Level 10 in a Class. User may Unlock a new Class.]
[New Feature Unlocked: [Message Boards] have been Unlocked! Message Boards can be found in the Messaging menu.]
Christopher Day stood speechless in the doorway of his home, trapped between the expectant, weary faces of the Town Council on his porch and the terrifying, triumphant text that was now his new reality. He had saved the town. He had won the election. And his life, as he knew it, was over.
End of Book 2.
Author's Note: This is the end of the story thus far. If there is reader interest in continuing the story, I'll continue it. If not, this seems like a good place to allow the reader to imagine their own continuation and ending to the story.