"Someone the people know."

Max smirks. "Celebrity eh? Someone people are familiar with. Someone people trust. Someone people can watch go from standing tall, to down on their knees, to down on all fours." He shoots Rydell a glance. "Gentlemen, I propose this. There are three types of pet..." It's amazing listening to him espouse your idea. "I propose we each pick on. We each pick a girl. We each usher them through a very public transformation. We show let the public watch as they declare, 'Once I was famous, rich, independent. I thought I had it all. Now I'm a pet. Now I'm to be fucked, used and degraded. Now I realize what it means to have it all.'"

You nod. Rydell nods.

You can't believe this is real... except... well, you can. Being shocked by how quickly and how perversely your country and its citizens have been transformed is for other people now.

"Do you think we'll have any trouble convincing three famous women to..." You start but stop when you see the President laugh.

"You've been cooped up in a retreat too long. That problem is no longer a problem." he says with pride. "Slut database submissions are at 97%. The question isn't who can you get. The question is, who do you want?"

Although the President makes one thing clear before you can can answer. "I get first choice." Why, you wonder. "Because I'm the mother-fucking President." he smiles cruelly. He is quite something to be reckoned with. Composed, but you can tell his mind is twisted. Good thing he's on your side. "It's an easy choice anyway." He says. "Bella Thorne"

Good choice, you think. She's one of the sluttiest celebrities out there. And he doesn't need to justify his pick, but he does.

"Did you know she just submitted her 27th video to our database." He shakes his head. "She's a very big fan of what we're doing here. Now she's going to want to be a Helper Pet. She's going to want control. But I think she's gone long enough wearing her sluttiness as a mark of pride. I'll make her into a Use Pet." He nods to himself as if he's happy with his choice. "Now, Mr. Rydell, you've been with the Administration second longest, you choose your girl."

For a moment you think to protest. After all, it's your fucking idea. Why do you pick last? The President can see your objection.

"Compromise my man, compromise." He says.

"I'm going to pick Emma Stone" Rydell answers. "I just find her to be adorable, and easily corruptable. And I'm going to make..."

"Not so fast." The President interrupts, then turns to you. "He got second dibs on girls. You get second dibs on pets. Pick your girl. Pick your pet."

Your choice of celebrity isn't very hard. Why wouldn't you pick the most beautiful famous woman you know of. "Jennifer Garner" you say as the two men nod with approval.

But your second choice is more difficult. Fuck Pet or Helper Pet. Hmmmm.