A Novel Idea

This is page 386 of a yet to be written novel, A Baked Potato on the Senate Floor. If you would like to know more about a Baked Potato on the Senate Floor, make it up yourself. That's all I did. I asked my colleague at work to tell me a food and a place, that's what I got, and then I just wrote without backspacing for 5 minutes.

-------------------------------------
...filled by treasures yet unseen by the Senators from Rhode Island, Nevada, and Kansas who had yet to receive their superpowers from these strange overlords.

"We'll see about that, Roger" he said eliminating all doubt.
"But Clint there's got to be a waa..."

Roger would never finish words, because he had been run through with a broad sword by his former colleague and partner in legislation, Roger; Roger who now stood perilously close to the shadowy crevice from which these alien overlords had risen.

It seemed at this point a certainty that a mass battle would occur, leaving only one of the Senators to walk out amid the carnage of strewn limbs, tracheas, and cartilage. Undoubtedly the streets of Washington would run red from these blue blooded American heroes. And as the overlords watched, circling above in their cadmium powered jet-skis, like the puppet masters they truly were becoming, one man suddenly had a plan to end it all.

Charles a little known junior Senator from South Carolina, slowly strode along the Senate floor to take his place at the microphone, to deliver what could be the greatest oration in the history of the Senate, nee history of man, nee history of man, woman, and child.

The tension grew as Charles walked, heat emanating from his fellow congressmen, his pace off and feeling the wind resistance from the circling overlords, Charles felt as if he was walking through a jello mold. It felt as if time stood still, and some claim it did for a few seconds, as Charles went up to the microphone, and began.

"My fellow...
-------------------------------------

That's sorta like improv, but at least I posted.