Number Eight: Death by the P.M. and the President
P.M. is our *ahem* great British Prime Minister, and of course your *ahem* great American President is also in this fic. Please do not be offended, my friends. It is all in the name of humour.
Scott had counted, and realised he had now had seven deaths, and now he was begin to wish (as many of us are, I expect) that he would just die and stay dead. You will soon find this is not the case, but for now we must have a quick switch to an international phone call.
He was desperate. It was important to please people, and also important to keep your head (literally) when you’re a prime minister, and therefore the arrival of a letter that morning had made an important decision for Tony Blair. The letter was a death threat from some rather mad girls who claimed that if he did not fix it so that Scott Summers died, then he would find himself minus his head. Feeling rather attached to his head, he picked up the phone to ring his old friend in America.
Being president of the United States isn’t easy, especially when your friends start ringing up with strange requests. But world leaders have to stick together, and after the P.M. informed him that this Scott Summers was more certainly a terrorist, he was more than happy to go and blow him up.
Which he did. All Scott knew about it was that a helicopter flew overhead, and then there was huge BOOM and that was it.
Next death
