The year is 2044. Millenials run the world now. President gathers her #NatSec team in the Sitch Room for an update on our war with Sweden.

Who Run The World? Millennials ~A Short Story~

November 23, 2014 / by / 3 Comments

THE SCENE: The year is 2044. Millenials run the world now. President Trill gathers her #NatSec team in the Sitch Room for an update on our war with Sweden.*

President Trill looks through her files, her eyes darting from page to page. She furrows her brow one last time then looks up at her team.

“I need updates, ASAP,” she commands. The room is silent for a moment, then Secretary of Defense Cumberbatch clears his throat.

“We’re noticing an unusual level of activity off of Newfoundland,” he says, pointing to a map of the Canadian coastline projected on the wall. “Our reports indicate maritime traffic is at its highest point of the conflict.”

“I see. And what about off of Labrador?” President Trill asks.

“We couldn’t get any information from Labrador but I did find a link for 18 Labrador Retrievers Who Can’t Believe It’s Already November and I think that might be helpful,” Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Quvenzhané Wallis says.

“I know it seems off topic but I read that you actually focus better if you let yourself get distracted and so I really think we should read it, plus I heard that #15 will make you SQUEAL,” #NatSec adviser Charlotte Clinton says.

“…oh, fine,” an exasperated President Trill sighs. “But we’re only looking at it for five minutes this time!”

The room erupts in cheers, with each member of the team crowding around the wall and several shouting “blessed! BLESSED!!!” After five minutes of giggling and awwing, the team reconvenes.

“Ok, now I need status updates!” President Trill bellows.

“Aedan just posted that he and Aiden just went to grab fro-yo and it was epic,” Assistant Secretary of State Nash Grier offers. “I think it may have been kind of a ‘treat yo self’ situation.”

“Great, thanks. Comment that you and I are totes jellz,” President Trill orders. “Now what’s going on to the north?

Vice President Dylan Sprouse looks down at his phone and gasps. “Oh no…” he whispers. “Madame President, Sweden posted this to their Snapchat Story rn!”

In an instant the video is projected up on the wall. Swedish commander Vladim!r Svedka duckfaces in the foreground as his troops pour out of a fleet of Ubers and into the streets of Montreal in the background. “Invading with my bitches, hashtag invade!!” he shouts as the clip ends.

“No… NOOOO!!!” President Trill shouts. “But Canada is bae!”

“I know… I almost went to McGill,” Clinton says. “Well, I mean I visited when I was doing my college tours and I liked it a lot but I wasn’t sure that their core curriculum would really *challenge* me, ya know? Because I thought I had ADHD but really I think I just wasn’t inspired, but that was before I started taking spin class and painting water colors but not at the same time obviously oh my god that would be a great idea has anyone tried doing that before I should totally see if I can raise a round of capital to open up a chain where people just sit on their bikes and pa…” Her voice trails off as she wanders down the hall, furiously emailing venture capitalists.

“Madame President, we need to respond strongly,” Chairman Wallis interjects. “I recommend a relentless strike on their strategic brunch reserves.”

“Kk,” President Trill says. “ Does everyone agree?”

“Yaaaas,” the room responds in unison.

“Alright, let’s start with anywhere offering a bottomless mimosa deal and move on from there,” she says.

“I see a restaurant in Stockholm with killer omelets but the mimosas are $10 each? Should we hit there too?” Secretary of State Taylor Swift asks.

“That’s a horseshit establishment not even worth the bomb it would take to destroy them and tbh I can’t believe I even have to explain that you,” President Trill responds, her voice stiffening. “And I want more response options! How can we really hit them?”

“Let’s all post #latergrams of when we went to Ultra without Vladim!r and it’ll be obvious that we’re all together right now thinking about that trip but that no one invited him and he won’t be able to call us on it cause then he’ll look needy!” Secretary Cumberbatch shouts.

“Lovez it!” President Trill answers.

“I’ve got spoilers for the new season of American Horror Story that I can tweet at him too,” Chairman Wallis adds. “I know he checks his mentions all the time.”

“Slay, SLAYYY,” the President says.

“I just catfished him four times, he’s wiring me $1,500 and a wedding ring as we speak,” Assistant Secretary Grier giggles.

“Lolz, he’s so #thirsty,” President Trill says.

“We Should Use The Energy That Exists To Be More Against What We Need To Oppose,” Jaden Smith says.

“…no.” President Trill responds, clearly confused how Jaden Smith got in the room. “And… you can go… that’s all, thanks.”

“Time Is Finite And That’s How I Know We’re Infinite When We Look Into The Sun,” Jaden says as he slips out the door.

“Secretary Swift, any update on our Strategic Brunch Reserve strikes?” President Trill asks.

“It looks like the Swedes are moving their Bloody Mary stockpiles to a remote location in Ethiopia,” Swift says, reading from her phablet-watch. “Does anyone know anything about Ethiopia?”

The door swings open suddenly and Ronan Farrow bursts in, out of breath and clutching his side. “I came as soon as I heard ‘Ethiopia,’” he pants. “I spent a summer building wells there once.”

“Great, what can you tell us about the country?” President Trill asks.

“They definitely have some wells now,” Farrow answers. “At least 12 of them. I mean, unless some of them collapsed.”

“Ok, but could it be used as a staging area for some sort of attack? If they wanted to increase the number of ads on Spotify would they be able to do it from Ethiopia?” President Trill presses him.

“Maybe…at least, if they were using any type of well-based technology. If they have those capabilities, we’re in trouble.”

The mood in the room darkens.

“We need reports on how the Canadians are holding up against… the…um… the… shit. What’s the official brand name for this attack?” President Trill asks.

“#Swedepocalypse2044,” Chairman Wallis answers.

“Right. How’s Canada doing?”

“They’ve got Trebek safe in a bunker,” Secretary Cumberbatch reports. “But Carly Rae Jepsen is nowhere to be found and Celine Dion is refusing to help unless she gets to record the Avatar 26: Still Blue, Still Having Weird Sex soundtrack.”

“Ughhh THERE WAS ROOM ON THAT DOOR FOR JACK TOO, ROSE,” Vice President Sprouse shouts.

“V true, v true,” President Trill says. “But if they can’t even get Celine Dion in line, they’re going to need help. I’m activating our troops at the border to go support the Canadians. Let’s inform the generals.”

On cue, Secretary Cumberbatch, Chairman Wallis and Secretary Swift hop up and pose with their arms crossed together. President Trill pulls out her iPhone46cS.1.0 and sends the Snapchat to her ‘Generals’ group,** captioning it “LEGGOOOO.”

“It’s done,” she says resolutely.

The group turns anxiously toward the map on the wall where the battalions stationed at the border can be seen progressing into Canada, represented by each general’s spirit animal. A sea of otters, hedgehogs, Nutella jars, Anna Kendricks, Beyonces and Chipotle burrito bowls with guac flood across the border and surround the major cities.

“Our defenses are on fleek,” Assistant Secretary Grier says. “Although that fucking guac was extra.”

“Worth it tho,” Secretary Swift points out.

  guac ,” adds Vice President Sprouse.

But just as the group begins to discuss whether the vegan sour cream or the twice-as-vegan sour cream is more delish, the figures on the map begin to move again. Spirit animals begin galloping south of the border, gaining speed as they go.

“What’s going on?? Is it a surprise attack from the Swedes?” President Trill asks, her eyes wide with fear.

“No, ma’am… It’s worse,” a stunned Chairman Wallis says, a single tear running down her cheek as she reads from her phone. “…They’ve just put GIRLS on Netflix. All 23 seasons. The troops are going home to binge-watch.”

The room is silent.

“This is bad af,” Vice President Sprouse whispers.

Finally, a shellshocked President Trill speaks.

“Lena has betrayed us. We trusted her, and she stabbed us in the back like the relatable little shit that she is,” she says. “Have the Swedes begun their advance?”

“They’re flowing over the border now, Madam President,” Secretary Cumberbatch says.

“Alright, everyone gather around for the goodbye selfie,” President Trill orders. The group huddles together, morbidly perfecting their picture-smile and pose, skinny arms out and chins down.

“#dysfunctional” President Trill captions it.

“It’s been an honor,” President Trill tells the group. “Now let’s watch Mean Girls and wait for the nation to fall.”

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*Sweden is our enemy now.

** It took them 30 years, but Snapchat FINALLY rolled out a Groups function.