Yes, you take it

And suddenly, life is a whirlwind. You say goodbye to Carrie, who is **** for you to stay. But you go anyway. You pack up and are flown to Washington DC. There you get some more information.

There are three retreats, one in California, one in Virginia and one in Illinois. You'll be overseeing the one in California.

There are over 150 million women living in the US. When you take out those too young or old to be covered by the President's executive order, then take out those who complied, that still leaves millions of women who could potentially be arrested.

But Mr. Greene explains that once the first round of retreat "attendees" (never say "detainees" or "inmates" and certainly not "prisoners") are attained, they expect a large number of non-compliant sluts to get their videos posted ASAP.

Makes sense, you suppose.

You're set up in a little apartment in DC, but just long enough for a few weeks of briefings, and long enough to meet the President.

Yes, you actually meet the President.

He's an imposing figure in his white cowboy hat and expensive suit. He shakes your hand as Mr. Greene stands by.

"Which video was this?" He asks.

"The sisters." Mr. Greene answers.

The President grows a big smile. "Very nice work! In our America, when you tell two cunts to rub up against each other, it won't matter who they are, right? Sisters, cousins, mother and daughter, anyone."

How else can you answer that? You're standing in the middle of the Oval Office. "Yes sir."

"Excellent." He pats you on the back. "Do good work."

And as conflicted as you were about his election, suddenly you feel a sense of pride wash over you. You do want to do good work for your President."

_____

Just like that, your time in DC is at an end. Your whisked off to California to the retreat facility. You're starting to get a sense of this new normal. After weeks of briefings, you're starting to feel like maybe you know what you're doing. Mostly its to maintain, solve problems, smile for the media, present a real face. The operation will practically run itself.

You get a tour of the facility. It's huge. And a promised, it is genuinely designed for comfort.

You meet Brian your new head of operations. He's a pleasant enough guy, a bit of a hipster with a thick beard and plugs in his ears. You suppose there's a place even for hipsters in President Hardcore's America.

"Your whole staff is in place, sir." he says. "I hope you don't mind. The quick nature of this meant we had to get everyone in place right away. From here on out, anyone who needs to be hired or fired will be done so with your approval."

You nod.

"Oh, but you do have one position to pick." Brian hands you a list of names. "Your personal assistant. We've narrowed down the attendees to those you we thought would be the best choices." Your given a list of five names with accompanying dossiers, pictures, histories. You flip through them. All pretty girls.

But one of them appeals to you immediately.