Pharaoh

Chapter 9: WGPD part 2 The Decision

I don't think I need to tell you all much about how that night went. Virtually everyone in town over the age of 18 was there. Then everyone watched again later since reruns streamed non-stop. Some watched it again and again, one man reportedly 27 times. And there were all those home grown quantum videos and stills. The girls joked that some of the shots were like a gyn exam, but most of the men focused on the girl's tits. Anyway, you've all seen it by now.

The courts declared a general amnesty (except the lows of course) three days later, regretting that some of us middles let our emotions get the better of us. Which was a generous ruling.

Since you have seen the competition, you know that my wife, my beautiful, my gorgeous, my talented and stupendous wife, my Alicia is in. IN. Finished third but IN. Well a tie for third, but still IN.

Alicia and I both regret the confusion and the acting up that surrounded the announcement. Not that we played any role in it (despite some later ugly and absurd rumors). What you all saw is what we experienced.

Maybe I'll just recite the end part for myself. I'm still pretty emotional about it. For a bunch of reasons.

Eddie C. did the announcement. First, the date of the live Pharaoh show was set at Sept. 4. The crowd went wild. Just a bit over three more weeks! Once he got the audience settled again he told us the judges were in agreement on three finalists. There would be no secondary competition. The audience, knowing it would go home sated, went from wild to berserk. The tension was incredible. After some minutes of pandemonium, and a few warnings from Security, Eddie C. reminded us that our future Pharaoh knew nothing, and would know nothing, of tonight's results. Pharaoh was somewhere in a secure location with all communication electronically suppressed. To keep him unswayed, an even playing field for the three girls. The crowd, anxious now, hummed with a more measured approval.

The light show began, electric blues and reds, yellows and greens, swept across the stage and the girls and into the sky. The audience aaahed and oooed and then hushed as Eddie C. went to the meat of the thing:

First place went to Elsie P. Reynolds with 374 points. Screams, singing, deafening applause. A small bomb went off behind us and a blushing, pretty, very pretty (I admit it) girl emerged to stand center stage.

The crowd hushed, tensed for more. Second was our own Elizabeth Partridge (those tits!) with 361 points. More screams, thunderous chants "Lizzie! Lizzie!...", bottle rockets buzzed and fizzed over our heads, expletives were heard and an inert woman had to be carried out. More cheers as Elizabeth strode regally to Elsie's side.

Hushed again, this would be the last one, our final chance. Third — what they said was third! Idiots! — went to a dark horse, a girl named Roberta O'Leary with 355 points. The audience was near silent, too stunned to react to this surprise choice. Then applause began slowly. Then the clapping and screaming and demonstrating grew and grew till it almost matched that for the first two girls. A timid looking young woman with a fabulous figure (I admit it) and a cute bikini walked in next to Elizabeth.

They had their three girls, the bastards.

I stood shattered, deflated, done. I was losing my mind. How? How on earth? Elsie maybe. Just maybe. Not correct but not insane. Elizabeth, our friend, possibly, just barely imaginably possible (those tits.) Approached insane. But Roberta? No way. Not ever. Sure the figure, yes to that. But her Fashion and Answer were jokes! Insane.

Look at the facts.

Bikini? Two outstanding figures but a clear win for Alicia. Did Roberta even have a keyhole?

What is the role of Womanhood in our Modern Enlightened Society? That was for Answer. Alicia nailed it. Roberta's answer was out of the 22nd century.

Alicia kills in Fashion from beginning to end. Roberta gets penalized.

Demeanor? Both were good, Alicia better.

Are the judges deaf, dumb and blind? Are they fools? How can this happen? The monstrously unjust nature of the vote must be apparent to everyone.

My poor, poor, lovely wife. My poor Alicia!

Eddie C. went down the list and made it worse. I could not fathom it, could not process. Alicia came in fourth with 351 points. Four points! Just four friggin' disgusting unfair points! Shanda! Scandal! Treachery!

He continued down the rest of the girls but I never heard a bit of it.

Stony and Briana were rubbing my back, comforting me, whispering soft condolences. I think Stony was crying.

Mayor Smith was milling around, ready to come on stage. The others at the judges table were still frantically passing papers and huddling over one another. Lady Florence stood above, pointing a bony finger and dictating with an angry face. Why?

The entire list of contestants had been read through. Down to Donna Frantz who came in 30th with 209 points.

Mayor Smith approached the podium for his speech, and for handing out of keys to the city. I was slumped in my chair crying, Stony and Bri still cooing over me, comforting me.

And then...and THEN!... THEN a miracle occurred. For that's what it was. A miracle, straight from God Himself!

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Ladies and Gentlemen. Your attention please. Calm down now folks and let us get through this." The Mayor paused for quiet. Through my tears I saw a big wide politician's grin on his face. I noticed more commotion at the judge's table, aides scrambling about, voices raised, Lady Florence standing, waving her arms at the Mayor. "Calm down now people..." A young aide rushed to him and handed the Mayor a piece of paper. He glanced at it, bolted to attention, a stricken look on his handsome face, and read it again. Right in front of us all. "Ladies and Gentlemen. Ladies! Please." He looked to the judges table and we could all hear him ask "Is this true? What do I do?...Me?...You sure?...OK?... I guess..." Lady Florence sat. He turned back to the audience, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am sorry to announce..."

He was interrupted by catcalls for more tits and fewer speeches. The audience roared with laughter. I was sick to my stomach. Security shone those high beam flashlights at a few people and things settled down.

"Sorry to announce," he went on, a real veteran at this sort of thing, "to announce that there has been...how shall I say?... an error, a most grievous and ill-timed error." He glared over to the judges table. Lady Florence nodded. We heard gasps and then audience went stock still and quiet. I felt a tingle up my back. Briana was hugging me, Stony too from behind her. But the tingle. Could it be...?

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I am sorry to announce that Judge Miss Wexner has found an error in the tabulation. Mrs. Roberta O'Leary's total of 355 points was not properly debited by the four point penalty she incurred in the Fashion round." Commotion. Expletives. Disbelief. Rockets and the light show above. The Mayor had to quiet everyone again with the help of Security. He went on, "Because..because of this...this error, the judges have recalculated and Mrs. O'Leary's score is now 351."

The crowd exploded. It groaned and screamed as one and then a hum of loud chatter filled the square in front of City Hall. There were more screams, and a few curses, but most of the sound was just the hum of neighbor to neighbor gossip and disbelief. We literally could not believe what we just heard. But we all remembered. We had all seen it with our own eyes. As she performed a head whip during Fashion, Mrs. O'Leary's scrunchy, one that held together a complex hairdo, had flown off. She kept her poise and finished her show, but we could see Lady Florence at the scorers table holding aloft a big red-lettered 4. She would be assessed that penalty. And now they were about to count it.

Briana and Stony squeezed me harder and harder. We all knew what it meant.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Mr. Eddie C., on behalf of the judges, now informs me of a tie for 3rd place at 351 points, a tie between Mrs. Roberta O'Leary and..." he looked to his aide who mouthed the answer, "...and Mrs. Alicia Natasha Rochefort." He covered the mic with his hand but we all still heard his aside to the judges. "What do I...aahhhh...OK...OK."

The buzzing swelled.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I now ask these two fine young ladies to step forward." He looked around confusedly to find the girls. Briana whispered "There she is." We saw Alicia step out of the crowd of girls on stage, her face tear streaked. Mopping those tears with a pretty lace hanky. My heart was in my mouth.

From the other side of the crowd of contestants, the crowd to which she had retreated, Mrs. O'Leary emerged, red-faced and crying herself.

The two girls, Alicia and Roberta, were still in bikinis from the last round of judging. Their bodes were stunning, Alicia's a bit more-so, figure or no for Roberta. When they stood side by side it became crystal clear. But their faces were a mess. My poor girl!

The Mayor said, "I now call upon Lady Florence Beignet to break the tie and declare a 3rd place finalist for Black Pharaoh."

You could have heard Woodrow dropping to a down pillow in a far away bedroom it was so quiet. Quiet except for the one unfortunate drunk who called out "Show us yer tits Lady Flo." Security was on him and hustled him out in seconds. Then Woodrow dropping quiet descended again.

The elderly aristocrat was helped to the podium, Alicia, now somewhat composed, stood to her left, Mrs. O'Leary, still sobbing, to her right. Had she intuited her fate? Lady Florence began to read from her hastily composed statement:

Tonight we have seen the flower of North Porter womanhood. I offer my congratulations to our two top girls, Mrs. Elsie P. Reynolds and Mrs. Elizabeth Partridge...(explosive clapping and cheering)...I have no doubt that any Pharaoh would enjoy fucking either one or both of them...(more cheering and chants of "You go, Lady Flo!")...Indeed!...(and held up her hand for quiet)...Now I, as the leading citizen of our blessed town, make the difficult, exceedingly difficult, choice for 3rd place pussy...(laughter and chants of "Pussy, pussy, pussy!")...Choosing between two delicate morsels of sweet and pure femininity...(polite and expectant applause)... I give unto both of these girls my best wishes for a life of service and dignity and submission...(quiet again)... a life consonant with the station into which God has delivered them, just as He has divinely directed me to mine.

There commenced to be some low level grumbling from the audience. Someone muttered "Get on with it Flo," but too discreetly for Security to catch.

Lady Florence shuffled the papers before her and turned to look with quiet dignity at each girl. Satisfied, she went on.

And I declare it to you, my people, that I, in my role as your better, as your best, as the best among all assembled on these hallowed grounds, so it is, so shall it be, and further in the name of my dear departed Lord and Master, Lord William Fotheringay-Smith-Willoughy Beignet, from the Kenyan Beignets, may he rest in peace!, I do hereby declare and affirm and decree that my judgement, inspired by God and given unto me by the virtue and wisdom that have decorated my entire life, that I declare the 3rd place girl to be...

Lady Florence took a long pause to emphasize the gravity of the words she was about to speak. She'd been an outstanding public speaker her entire life and it showed now. Showed even as I was approaching a serious cardiac incident. But my nose? Miraculously clean.

Briana and Stony had me in so tight a grip I thought I might suffer fractured ribs as well as a heart attack.

"...declare the 3rd place girl to be...Mrs. Alicia N. Rochefort...may she serve...

No one heard another word. The pent up energy of the crowd simply burst its confines and overwhelmed us all. The place erupted into bedlam the likes of which had never been seen or heard in North Porter.

Bri and Stony were pounding me on the back. Mrs. O'Leary slumped to the stage. Alicia was swallowed up by the other girls. Security rushed in to surround the judges. Lady Florence was carried off in a plush chair still speaking as if to the crowd. Eddie C. tried to grab the mic but was pushed aside by the Mayor. Stony was behind me, standing on my chair, her arms over my shoulders, hugging, practically strangling me. We heard a cry of "bony old bitch" but Security could do nothing. Eddie and Mayor Smith began exchanging blows center stage, straddling Mrs. O'Leary's inert body.

Somewhere a "show us your tits" chant started. A firecracker exploded in the air above our heads. Stony's nice breasts were on my back and she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. A chair was thrown and Pastor Ninkovitch went down. Women began to shriek. Bri had my hand in a vice-like grip, muttering over and over "My God she did it!"

Scots Willy was on his chair screaming above the crowd, "Tits, tits, tits! Aw ye young burds. Shaw us yer titties." I felt faint, chilled, boneless. Security formed a cordon to get the judges and uppers out of the melee.

"Alicia! Alicia!!," I screamed. But it was no use. I could see Mr. And Mrs. Podomatskiavich screaming for her too.

Security was dragging Mrs. O'Leary to safety. More fireworks, some sounding like small bombs. Bri turned into me, accidentally gave my upper arm a nice tit rub, and kissed my other cheek. Alicia's brother was looking down the blouse of an attractive teen girl. A bikini top flew out to the crowd, then a second and a third. Another chair went whizzing past us. A mad rush for the souvenirs began.

I could hear Jason's voice, many rows back, screaming "Fuck you, Jeff."

Panties began to rain down. About half the girls on stage were nude, but I still could not see my wife. Fights were breaking out all around us, two men tugging at the ends of a bra, ripping it to shreds, a woman tackled a man from behind to steal the panties he clutched.

Willy was going insane, up now on the shoulders of one of his mates, "'Tis a stoatin day fur Scots," he screamed and began to sing the national song of that benighted land, "Scots, wha hae wi Wallace bled, Scots, wham has aften led,.." and so forth.

Now all the girls were nude, crying and laughing and hugging and kissing and touching and then rotating to the next girl to cry and hug and touch and kiss and hug. A young middle, maybe my age, was getting blown in the aisle by his cute but chubby wife. Bri and Stony saw it too; Bri just giggled but Stony, the poor kid, was wide eyed with shock. A fire broke out on stage, how I don't know. The air above was filled with electric blues, red, purples. The girls scrambled for safety. The fights for panties and bras accelerated. Willy had a paisley bra whipping around his head like a helicopter rotor and sang on. The Mayor had the mic chord wrapped around Eddie C.'s neck and was banging his head on the carpeted floor. Someone cut power and the spots and flood lights went dark.

That's when my nose gushed. From the light of the fireworks I saw the crimson on my nice white shirt before I felt it on my lips or face. That's when I passed out.