Barack and Elizabeth swept down the bustling American street. It was a warm evening and light as a neon daytime. Elizabeth was no stranger to America and was friendly with most world leaders, however, the flickering streetlights and the rainbow neon lights were rather unfamiliar to her. She gazed in wonder at them, astonished at how Barack waltzed through the cigarette smoke and smog as if he were at home.
Soon enough two golden arches became visible. Even Queen Elizabeth knew what those arches meant. The two friends made their way into McDonalds. Barack held the door and swept Elizabeth through politely. They chose the table closest to the window and went to the counter to order for the two of them while Elizabeth gazed into the bustling street outside, giving an angelic smile and a small wave to all who returned her gaze. The pimply adolescent behind the counter gave Barack a nervous smile and a blatantly shocked expression when offered a swift, firm handshake.
“Hey, I’m a friendly guy,” laughed Barack “just another customer. Take care, son”
Barack returned to Elizabeth and set the tray on the table. Chicken Caeser Salad for the Queen and a Big Mac Meal for the President. Barack had bought a happy meal toy for his daughter.
“Natasha is going to love this.” He grinned as he played with the brightly coloured plastic gadget. “These toys are ingenious.”
He passed it to Elizabeth who giggled in delight at the toy, slowly investigating all its many functions. Barack moved onto his Coke, slurping it slowly through the straw and slightly crushing the paper cup with his brown fingers. Elizabeth watched him as she began to open her salad.
“Everybody drinks Coca-Cola. Isn’t that marvellous?” she said. “Everybody here is drinking it, Barack, and if you peer through this window there are even more people drinking it. Do you see?”
“Hmmm, indeed you are correct, Elizabeth.” Barack waved his cup of Coke at the passers-by, laughing heartily.
“Even I am drinking Coca-Cola! The Queen drinks Coca-Cola, Barack. You, the President, drink Coca-Cola, the families eating lunch in McDonalds drink Coca-Cola. Even the homeless man outside drinks Coca-Cola.” She crunched her salad and waited politely for Barack to reply.
Barack was silent as he considered the point Elizabeth had made. He looked about at the other customers, listening to their mindless chatter and the rustling of paper bags and boxes.
“It seems that the world is united by this tasty soft drink, Elizabeth.” He scrunched his face up in concentration and for a moment looked a lot like the paper bag that his meal had come in. “As the new President of America I think it would be my duty to use this sparkling star in the world of drinks to the advantage of humankind.”
“Just how do you plan to do that, dear?” Elizabeth enquired, neatly wiping caeser sauce from her lip with a serviette. Barack unwrapped his burger and took a huge bite, the bun and meat disintegrating in his mouth with a loud squelching noise.
“Delicious,” he commented before continuing “if I could find a way to use Coke to end this bloodthirsty war in Iraq… well, that would be something quite incredible.”
