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Signed, Sealed and Delivered
by Rick Tornello

To his trusted family members he laments, “I am smart, very smart. I am wealthy beyond most. I work the system better than anyone. I have soldiers, my lawyers and politicians in my back pocket. I have almost everything I could want.”

“Daddy what else could you need? We’re wealthy and healthy. No one messes with us. Seriously what?” replies his daughter.

His sons and other relations look on. Most are wondering what now?

“I’ve said it before, I’d like to run the country.”

“But you do in a fashion,” his wife replies. She does not like where this is going.

He states with emphasis and finality, “I want to be president of the USA, not just my organizations. I want the whole god damned thing. But as it stands now the laws of the land, this stupid constitution and congress are all in my way. Only by luck or,” he hesitates, and laughs, “the devil could I get this.”

His wife blanches, “Don’t even say that. That’s evil beyond measure.” She shakes her head in disgust. He’s such a pig and I married him.

His family nods in agreement. They know where their bread is buttered.

He looks at his wife and answers belittling her, “The Devil, all that stuff you picked up from your stupid catholic brainwashing. That’s just so many fairy tales designed to keep people like you in line. Fuck that. Please, this is the real world. Did any of the great leaders back down when it came time to make the move? If they did they’re not in the history books or if they are, it’s not as winners; that I can assure you. I really want this.”

“Our lives will be picked apart,” she retorts hoping against hope that some modicum of self respect will present a viable thought to the man she knows has no understanding of humility, of dignity or pride.

Only his daughter can speak to him like that and she is silent.

He yells, “Just shut up. What do you know? I pulled you out of that shit job and made you who you are. Pride? Fuck pride.”

The rest of the family bite their lips, look down or up at the ceiling. No one wants to go eye to eye with him. He’s a monster when he’s like this.

Months later:

In a private section of a large ballroom, in a high rise office building in NYC; the possible presumptive candidate states to one of his guests, “So you’re for real? Of all the things on this planet. Now that’s pretty funny. What can I do for you?”

His guest is well dressed, elegant by any standard, taller than the candidate by a few inches, nicely tanned and very muscular even through the exquisite silk suit. He replies, “First, I got in here and I’m sitting right next to you. And I am not on the guest list either. Am I not correct? No sir it’s what can and what may I do for you. You’ve asked for my help a few times, in the past. This time I decided the time was good and proper. So I ask again, what can and what may I do for you?” He smiles slightly and nods his head as an acknowledgement of the great mans’ position and ego.

The presumptive candidate looks about and laughs and then lowers his voice and says, “We both know I can’t win the nomination no less an election. Win me the nomination and then we will discuss what I want and what you need in return. You prove to me who and what you are and then maybe we can come to some sort of bargain. As for sneaking into here, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again, in case you are not who you appear to be.”

His guest looks at him closely. He knows this man cannot be trusted, verbally or on paper. He laughs to himself. He extends his well manicured finely shaped hand, a strong hand that appears to be able to stretch more than an octave on a piano and receives the presumptive candidate’s manicured fat stubby hand in return. “An agreement has been joined.”

“An agreement has been joined. This offer is a free no obligation trial designed to show you what I am able to accomplish. I will put my players at your committees’ disposal. You will know some of them. You have done business with quite a few, especially from Eastern Europe and Asia. Once your free wish is delivered I will be back and we will sit down and go over what I want from you in return for your greatest and even secret desires. I can be reached in a similar manner as before, just call on me. You will be able to keep your nomination as an added gift.”

A year later:

The presidential candidate turns to all his guests and calls out, “Everyone leave the room. My guest and I have business to discuss.” He points to a gentleman no one seems to know or acknowledge knowing.

His guest offers a slight bow to the other guests and says in a low calm and powerful voice, “Thank you, this is a private discussion. I will be glad to make your acquaintances at a later date I’m sure.”

The ballroom empties quickly, some seeming to disappear into thin air. But no one is alarmed. Those that would have been were led away earlier. And those left are the tools of both these powers.

The presidential candidate takes command of the situation and states firmly, “We have a deal to broker you and I. Please sit and enjoy my lavish table for your delight. You see what I can do here and now. Isn’t this grand? Isn’t this great?

“You came to me and offered up what I have yet to achieve and desire more than life itself. I did some research and I understand all you seem to want is my soul.” He spreads his arms wide and looks about with a sly quizzical grin and continues, “All this and more so to speak, all for my soul?” In his head he is thinking this guy is weak. I’m stealing this. This is better than the casino deals in New Jersey. “Seriously?”

His guest smiles a broad real smile and instructs the candidate, “First sit down and relax.”

Then after the candidate sits leaning back knowing he’s got this wrapped up, barely listens to his guest. His mind is on the thought of the prize.

His guest continues, “Keep your soul, I don’t need it.” And the looking down just a bit, smiling slightly, carefully slices an apple with his golden stiletto.

The Candidate yells, “What do you mean keep it? Isn’t that the usual bargain? I am way smarter than those others. Don’t try and fool me. What else could you possibly want? Are you backing out now? Don’t fuck with me. You know who I am!”

The Master of the dark stands up. He walks around as if pondering the question. He then turns and move quickly and silently, oh so very close into the candidate’s personal space and whispers, “Greater value is in my bet. I always mean what I state. Giving you your desires, through and through, has a better return than you alone, or you could ever possibly imagine in that great mind of yours.”

The secret service agent assigned to the Candidate has been blinded and made deaf while all this is occurring. There will be no recording of any kind. The Master will never ever show up on any screen. It will be as if nothing ever happened. Time seems to stand still.

The Candidate doesn’t even catch the sarcasm “So you mean I can become the most powerful, if not the richest man in America and possibly the planet for nothing? No one does something for nothing, not me and especially not you.” At the same time the candidate moves back a bit. His guest is strong and strong people actually scare him. The Master touches something in the Candidates mind that is warning him to drop this. Walk away.

His guest quickly breaks that train of though and states in a matter of fact and in a flat tone with no inflection, “Oh not for nothing, never nothing. To the millions who by the cause of your rise themselves will rise to the levels of hate and deceit pent up over the years, especially for those I have yet a desire, a strong desire to make my own. These souls, especially from those who deny these very feelings that they harbor deep within their souls, these are the ones who will be swept up in a tsunami of hate and deposited at my gate. That sir is not nothing. You may keep your soul.”

The candidate sees it a bit differently. “You care about them more than me? Then why even approach me with this offer? Go offer them one by one giving them what they desire and came back with a better offer more suited for me.” He thinks at least I got this far on a free ride. Win or loose I’m in the history books for good. I loose nothing. Souls, who cares about souls? If I could buy and sell them, I would have long ago and beat him at his own game. What a wanker.

The Master is nonplused and continues, “But through you alone, you the major player, an opportunities’ wide window opening, but and here’s my issue, only through you, can this occur. You can keep your power and wealth. Enjoy it. History will mark your place, maybe like an Ozymandias or similar greats just like him with whom I have made,” and emphasizes, “never so great a deal as this. Here a whole nation will be awake in their decisions bringing yet unseen more to my gates, to my very door.”

The Candidate hears history and sees himself in the books like Caesar. “So this is a great deal for you and for me, and my family?” The Presidential Candidate stops and pauses then turns to face his guest and states hammering the idea home, “And history too. Now that’s a bit of something. I’m beginning to like this more and more.”

The Master responds quickly, “Your family must enter into it on their own volition. This is strictly between me and between you. I’ll even let you sleep on it. I’m in no hurry.” He knows that this has to be consummated now but pretends to walk away.

The Candidate doesn’t want this deal to slip away. It’s too good to let go and responds just as quickly, “I’ve slept on it. I swore an oath to myself to do anything I needed to do. There is no way for me to win, none but one and here you are. I’m not that stupid. I’ve made deals with worse than you. What do you get out of this, really?”

Smiling the Master pulls some documents out of his briefcase that wasn’t there before and states, “I won’t lie. There is no point. But like lambs to slaughter, sheep to be led shorn of all and bled. Oh such a gift to me? The nation you will control and most will fall to me through action and inaction. It takes a big person like you…”

The Candidate feels some hesitation. He wishes his daughter were here. She is one voice of reason he does listen to, once in a while. Stalling for thinking time he questions, “Let me ask you again, what do you really get?”

The Master looks at him and considers what must be said. It’s all or nothing. He begins, “I have contracted with other before you but never with a Republic such as this. Russia, Cambodia, China even Germany are nothing compared to this prize. Here freely elected have more rights than anywhere or time in history. Here the rule of law prevails as opposed to the rule of terror and death. That dear sir is a category of one and you will be the one to go down in the history books as the greatest deliver of this prize.”

The Presidential Candidate loves the idea of a top position in history. His heart feels like its swelling with pride at that thought. And still he hesitates physically by stepping back. Something, something small keeps nagging at him.

“Oh be damned with all this worry,” the Master laughs. “Trust me, you will have the full support of many of those who have twisted the teaching of that crazy Jew for their own profit and power. Do you see them worrying? No, of course not. They know the right thing to do and so do you. They will give you all the legitimacy and support you can expect. “

The Master continues. “ I have given this to many but none like you yourself…”

The candidate interrupts, “Yes I am a big and rich person and you are dealing with me in a befitting manner. I really loose nothing and gain all. Let’s do this.”

The Master tone changes after the interruption. “Officially I must recite this to you: You fully understand and do this as an adult of legal age and fully competent to make, sign and deliver upon this contract. You may keep your soul. It in and of itself, one more or one less, it means nothing to me.”

“Do you understand?

The Candidate nods his head.

“That’s not enough. You have to state your understanding,” demands the Master.
“The interest payment will be more than enough to pay for your agreement, more than you could ever realize. Now, do you understand and agree to what has just been presented to you?”

“I will reiterate, the key is you still must will it, your soul, to me, and only in blood will this contract be binding. I emphasize your blood if and when you will it to me. I have added that you may keep your soul. I will not claim it at your death. Though I may do with it, assign it if I please. But trust me. Your win will be payment enough. Now, a drop of blood, your finger dipped in and pressed upon this parchment is all I require.”

The candidate can’t believe what a deal he is making and asks again, “All you require is a scratch, and some of my blood on parchment, and my finger print for all this and no real cost?”

“In a word, yes. I will let you keep your soul, a promise but you will still belong to me.”

The Master just looks at the candidate and considers the future and hands him his stiletto. He thinks to himself:

The coil’s trap, a whole nation
Whose banner they proudly claim under,
Under which to fall, fall to you and your baseless call.
Keep your soul.
The interest is worth it all
And the greed to which most will fall
Trashing ignoring the papers which established it all
It was so unique.
The Janus faced ones, a congress of fools
Hearts hardened just like the Pharaoh’s
A trade made in the past still paying
declaring one but to the opposite, their conduct
so visible, not even hidden and blind eyed all
to the greed and all power hungry drunk would fail to miss.

The Candidate and future president breaks in on his guest’s thought. He wants to make sure he understands this completely. “So this is mine to keep, this country and wealth. I need nothing else that I now can claim as my own?”

The master cautions, “But slowly my friend otherwise, I can’t protect your life.
Tis your soul that I would usually claim, though in this case exchanged in a fashion, for my own power, desire fortune and fame.

“Still be still, and be yet careful of those about you and trust no one
Except those who too have given to me, and soon by their acquiescence to you every demand you will know intimately and acknowledge with a nod.
Worry not about opposition. It is a show you know. They too their part will be played well.

The Master turns to an aide that just appeared and quietly and unheard states, “When a raft is punted to the other shore, and it’s task completed, is it not abandoned?” And not waiting for an answer turns back to the candidate, “You know the cost, now make your judgment. You will keep your soul. Use my knife, just a slight cut will do. Now cut and sign here. The country, the nation and maybe more will be all yours. Here is my golden knife. You may keep it as a token if you desire.”

The candidate reads the contract and nods and says, “yes I understand.” He is satisfied it is all that has been stated, takes the blade, slices ever so slightly. He bleeds onto the parchment and presses his fingers into the blood splatter on the parchment and signs. He adds besides his fingerprint, The World Is Mine, Donald NUMBER 45. He takes the knife and puts it into his pocket.

“Consummatum est” Declares the Master in a voice that causes the future president’s blood to run cold.

The Master hands the parchment document to his aide who just as quickly disappears. He turns to the future president and says, “Just call on me when you need me. I will be at your disposal. Now let me entertain you. Here, enjoy some of the best in the universe.” A table of food, drink, and women appear before both of them treating them to every wish and whim. The future president doesn’t drink but knows on this one occasion he must. The future president feels like a young man with the strength and stamina he remembered once having. It was like living a dream.

After the Master and his private party disappear the future president realized that there was no limiting time element broached or agreed upon. He shrugs, yawns, and in a very exhausted state declares to his daughter, “As president, I’ll renegotiate when we meet again. He is at my call. I’m sure there will be no problem. I’m good at this. The country, maybe the world will be mine.” And laughing loudly, “I should have asked for more.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the stiletto. “What elegant knife. It’s solid gold I would guess. Souls what are souls?”

She looks at him and smiles, “He does good work.”

4 years after their first meeting:

The president smiles as he says to his guest, “I knew you’d be back. You want to renegotiate our deal, right? I’ve been waiting for this.”

The Master nods and says, “Well, very well, you’ve done very well for yourself. Instead of some small footnote in history, and even if that, you’ve achieved what only a few have done. You should be proud.”

The president takes the bait and boasts, “Oh, make no mistake. Proud, you bet I am. And since I’m so successful I think a slight alteration in the contract is in order. I’m still not sure what you really got out of this but I have reaped a whirlwind of fame soon to be leveraged to even be greater fame and fortune.”

The Master shows a slight wry grin. If this were poker it might be read in any manner of ways.

The president takes it as a sign of weakness, a ruse.

The Master states in matter of fact tone, “A contract is a contract and there are no renegotiations. However only I am allowed to modify what I have given. And I have given it some thought it too. I would like to…”

He is interrupted by the president. The president believes he has the upper hand. He has what this man wants and now he’s going to call the shots. He stands up, pushes a desk away and in an intimidating fashion he’s used over and over again with great success. He leans over toward The Master and sneers, “Of course you would see it my way. I know….”

The Master stands up and seems to grow just a bit taller. He sighs and not wanting to be rude but control must be maintained, and calmly states, “I haven’t finished.” Pointing to the chair the president just arose from The Master demands, “Now please be silent and sit down.”

The president is a bully and backs down sensing a strength that he knows he will get over since he has the upper hand not this charlatan. But no matter he still backs down.

“Mr. President, listen to my words. Words are important. They create a bond, an oath. I am going to free you from your bond, your oath, but only for you and for you alone.” And in a voice that the president only ever heard once, The Master states as the room shakes, “Is that understood?”

The president is a bit unnerved but thinks this is part of some act. “Of course I do, I’m a business man. I knew you’d see it my way. Now one other point I have to get straightened out. Have you spoken to my daughter?”

Now The Master smiles, “ She is not part of this deal. She and I have different matters to discuss. You on the other hand are free from any encumbrances and that also includes assistance from me in any form.”

The president strikes back. He cannot have her. She is his. She is family. “What did you do for me? I did all this. I swayed the masses. I made strong men bow to my will. I made other countries tremble. And If I’m right I’ll have a few more years and the world will be mine. I signed that stupid contract. You put on a nice light show and smoke and voice amplification, big deal. I want her freed from any silly stupid contract if there was any to begin with. Maybe you had some pull, probably not. But I did this alone,” yells the president in his familiar boasting while standing throwing his weight about, walking about pointing to himself. “And I want her by my side where she belongs.”

The Master smiles. He is satisfied. Seeing the cracks beginning he bows ignoring the demands, “Mr. President, and so you have. I reiterate, I hereby withdraw any obligation and support. I have harvested a far more delicious crop with your assistance.” He bows again to the president. The Master adds, “Oh yes, a crop of those who would never ever consider that their actions played into my hands. Oh Mr. President, you’re free, and free to get the windfall that you most deservedly own.”

“Support my ass,” the president sneers. “This is mine. I did this and you can’t take it away. The deal is a deal. I’m done talking to you. You free my daughter. That’s an order.”

“No I cannot take what as you claim, you created away. Nor would I ever think of it. I believe, no I know I have more who will come to me in the near future because of you. You have been a great help. If things should get a bit out of hand in the very near future, you’re on your own. THE other power that exists and I did have a bet on this.” The Master laughs wiping a few tears from his eyes and continues, “and I won this one. She may not play dice but She loves a good game of chance. What’s one planet in infinity? Oh, and just so you understand and as I mentioned, your daughter? Your daughter is mine. We made our own deal. In time she will enjoy her new world.”

“You will free her. I demand…”

The Master silences the president with the lifting of one finger and states in an ever so polite and sarcastic voice, “One more thing, good luck, you might need it. And regarding your daughter I do have to thank you. You gave her a very nice primer. I couldn’t have done better myself.” He bows again and disappears.


A thought seems to pass through the minds of many, almost a collective unconscious communication type of waking awareness, an awakening as if from a dream. It’s as if the targeted people on the planet in this country realize they now finally have what they wanted. The collective idea expands and now they consider to how to play the game within a legal structure they’ve reestablished. They laughed when they remembered Madison’s comment regarding religion and Europe awash in blood for centuries over some GOD. The planet hasn’t seen anything yet.

They all look at the president. And with a collective sigh conclude, “A useful idiot. He’s got to go.” But power is it’s own universe and has its own rules and soldiers. Things may get a little out of hand, more so than anyone might have considered, especially his enablers.

By, R. Tornello 2019
Addendum and epilog 2020