[Chasmo]

Sorry for the long delay. It's been a combination of travel and writer's block. This part is the bridge to what I hope will be a grand finale. I hope that you enjoy

* * *
Having dropped her son and his rowing mates off at practice and completed her daily workout at the Washington, DC, Ritz-Carlton enshrined and highly fashionable Equinox Health Club, Danielle Parnell was looking forward to the short drive across town to Gonzaga High School where, thanks to her very keenly refined powers of "persuasion," a private office suite with its own very private shower awaited her. To that end, and once she was done stretching her taxed but taut muscles on a mat that gave all interested observers a clear view of her efforts, the fabulously fit diva veritably strutted through the various and sundry weight machines, ellipticals, treadmills, ergometers and other exercise equipment, all the while reveling in the male eyes that followed her lustfully and the female ones staring daggers.

What she hadn't expected as she made her way out of the gym was to see Emily Duncan in a grey cotton sweat-suit -- that looked as if it had jumped off a 1950s men's fitness catalog -- huffing and puffing away with a personal trainer. Cognizant of said trainer training his eyes on her departing posterior, Danielle quickly turned in her neon Nikes to take him and his panting patron down a peg or two.

"Perhaps if you spent less time staring at my ass, and more time exercising hers the two of you would have more success," the uber-MILF loudly chided the fit young man whose name tag merely read "Zeke."

Stunned both by being busted and by the sharp rebuke thrown his way by the sexy but perennially snooty club regular, Zeke merely stood slacked jawed and humiliated.

"Nothing to say, have we," queried Danielle loving the power she was exercising over the cowed coach, "I didn't think so. And Emily dear, you should really take it easy, I wouldn't want you to have a heart attack before the two of us go a few rounds on stage this afternoon."

And then, so that anyone within earshot could hear her, the saucy solicitor thrust out her spectacular chest, moved her bejeweled hand to her sexily cocked hip and with finality continued "of course, the outcome there will be no different there than here sweetie -- this will always beat that!"

Self-satisfied as always, and with an imperious sneer on her otherwise beautiful face, Danielle Marie Parnell took her leave again of the embarrassed Emily Duncan.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Duncan," pleaded Zeke who at last had found his voice, "I swear I wasn't staring at her . . . really. And you're doing a great job today with your workout."

Humiliated not only by Danielle's direct attack but by the whipsaw effect of Zeke's pathetic attempt to hide his own lust for Little Ms. Perfect coupled with his applauding Emily's own futile huffing and puffing, Mrs. Emily Duncan didn't even respond to the young trainer. Instead, she imagined what it would be like for Danielle to be the one embarrassed for once, to be the object of strangers' laughter and derision, to want to run and hide while someone else -- ideally Emily herself -- did the tormenting. How wonderful would that be she thought to herself. Soon she would know.

* * *
The Gonzaga High School auditorium was a hive of activity. Nearly all the school's 975 or so young male students had already found their seats as scores of parents, teachers, administrators and clergy, and a smattering of news personnel -- both print and TV -- filed in. The stage itself looked no less impressive than any forum used for the presidential debates that had been held around the country in this election year.

Some 100 feet or more across, and with a semicircular bump-out that extended into the audience, it was large enough to host a Broadway production and, given the quality and sophistication of the sets that now adorned it, it certainly met a Broadway standard. A bright blue carpet with large white stars at its border covered the entirety of the stage's wooden floored surface. Where the floor pushed out into the crowd -- the otherwise deep blue field of the carpet was interrupted by the image of a bald eagle holding an American flag in one claw and arrows in the other that was sewn into the rich navy carpet. Framing the patriot emblem were two large comfortable arm-chairs where each of Governor Palin and Emily Duncan would sit while her adversary held the floor.

In between the chairs and facing directly out into the audience sat a large, clear, Lucite desk from behind which Danielle Marie Parnell would moderate the women's discussion. A laptop containing files with Mrs. Parnell's notes and a copy of her script was the desk's only adornment. Atop the run of the stage, along either side of the main attraction, were seats for members of the Mothers' Guild -- including Katherine Wray, Rachel Miras and Quentin's mom, Susan Kayser -- along with a few select teachers and students. In a semi-circle behind the two main chairs and bisected by Danielle's massive desk sat seats for the high school trustees and their wives among who were Ellie Kerr and Rebecca Ross.

As a backdrop to all of this, were two massive floor to ceiling screens -- each nearly 50 feet long and 35 feet high -- with one now showing the high school's purple and white crest and the other, in shining silver letters, the words "Welcome to Political Awareness Day" superimposed upon the computerized image of a waving American flag. The screens were intended during the course of the discussion to show various exhibits that Mrs. Duncan and Governor Palin had provided to help emphasize some of their planned points as well as alternatively to project for those seated in the back of the auditorium a close up of whoever the speaker may be. Needless to say, the afternoon had all the earmarks of what was to be quite a production.

Watching the crowd settle in from the state-of-the-art control booth high atop a catwalk toward the rear of the auditorium, Calum Duncan, Will Parnell and Brother Joshua DiSoto, the Jesuit mentor for the school's A/V club, were pinning down the final details for when lights would be dimmed and raised, music would be queued, images would be projected on the screens and so forth.

"Now remember Mr. Parnell," began the affable monk addressing Will by name but speaking to both him and Calum, after I use the PA system here to introduce Governor Palin and your moms, Calum is going to take his seat on stage and I'm going to head down to the audience to sit with the other faculty members. It will be up to you to make sure all of the transitions go smoothly here -- and that the list of questions and other information is sent to the laptop on your mom's desk -- but if you remember what we practiced it shouldn't be a problem. Are you ready?"

But before Will -- who was actually quite nervous about the task ahead -- could even speak, Calum Duncan intervened.

"You know, brother Josh," he began with a completely false sense of chivalry, "I've had a lot more experience up here than Will and this assembly is pretty important . . . maybe I should run things this time."

"What do you think Will," the jolly Jesuit responded, "is that okay with you?"

More relieved than he could ever have imagined, Will Parnell eagerly shook his head in the affirmative.

"Okay then, Calum -- you're in charge and Will -- you should head down and take Calum's seat on stage right behind where your mom will be."

* * *

As Will made his way down to the stage, the three women of the hour -- the local two of whom had only made their Alaskan visitor's acquaintance moments before -- waited backstage for their introduction by Brother Joshua. During that brief wait it became eminently clear that the day's two peacocks -- namely Governor Palin and Mrs. Parnell -- had no love lost between them. The former, basking in her national political celebrity, resented the latter for displacing her friend Ellie Kerr as the moderator. That said, her resentment was mollified substantially by the knowledge that the local tease with whom she had to share the stage could, and hopefully would, quite literally, come apart at the seams at any moment. Mrs. Parnell on the other hand, was piqued beyond reckoning that everyone around her -- including that imbecile Duncan -- appeared to be fawning over Sarah Palin.


"Let's see where their heads turn once we get on stage," she smiled to herself. "After I steal the attention of every man and boy here I'm going to slowly and mercilessly tear these two losers to shreds." If only she had known that Calum Duncan -- who also had a grand plan for Danielle -- had already given her a head start on "shredding" Governor Palin.


Meanwhile, despite being star-struck, Emily Duncan was trying her best to engage the former Governor in some civil discourse before the announcement. To her great distress, however, Mrs. Palin was having none of it. At best she was utterly apathetic about Emily's presence but, as so often occurred when Mrs. Duncan was involved, the Alaskan beauty's thoughts about the local lawyer were -- to the extent they existed at all -- closer to disdain. The Governor's focus was on figuratively "knocking out" Danielle Parnell who clearly shared the same feelings for her. Thus it was not surprising that in those last few moments before they took the stage, like two prize fighters about to step into the ring, each of the alphas took serious stock of the other.

Standing in 4.75" navy blue, leather metalipp Christian Louboutin pumps -- with a silver heel and toe cap -- from which her toned, tanned calves extended up to the flared bottom of a navy blue, pleated, Fendi skirt that sat just atop her knees, the 52 year old Sarah Palin was a complete stunner. Tucked tightly into the waist of that skirt was a very fitted, red, cotton, sleeveless Elie Tahari blouse the collar of which was opened to the cleave in between the ex-Governor's ample bosom.

Atop that blouse Mrs. Palin wore a very well-pressed cotton, white bolero jacket, also by Tahari. Her brown hair was blown out beautifully and her natural toned make-up had been artfully applied by her style team. With a diamond, ruby and sapphire encrusted American flag hanging from a silver necklace around her wrinkle free neck, Sarah Louise Palin looked every inch the All-American MILF she believed herself to be.

Mrs. Danielle Parnell, the diva of Davidson, was bedecked head to toe in Prada. With an eye to dominating both that “washed up Alaskan political hack” and her own pathetically disheveled neighbor from Davidson, Mrs. Parnell had cheekily chosen to wear an incredibly fitted black, leather Prada suit for the occasion.

The ultra-snug pencil skirt, which ended right above her exquisitely crafted calves, and which had a high slit in the back that permitted her to purposefully stalk the stage, cupped her chiseled ass like a glove. It was fastened on each side by a silver zipper that was both functional and fashion-forward so as not to interfere with the smooth surface of the leather that encased her mouth-wateringly contoured bottom.

A three-quarter sleeved leather bolero blazer, that stopped just below Danielle's trim waist (and thereby afforded all a glimpse of her taut tan midsection whenever she reached up or bent over) was held together only by two large black buttons in the front. Its wide lapelled spread collar -- broadly open from her supple neck down to the swells of her pert décolletage -- gave no small amount of credence to the perfection of her well exercised body. A high collared but translucent, backless camisole -- just a dickey really given the tightness of her jacket -- helped lessen the severity of the look to one of a very, sexy, stern librarian rather than an outright dominatrix.

As for accessories, from the 5" suede, burgundy, Prada peep-toe heels that held her immaculately pedicured size five-and-one-half feet, to the burgundy framed cat-eye Prada glasses that sat across the bridge of her perfect nose, Danielle was all business.

Finally, with her glorious mane done up in a tight bun on her head, lipstick that matched the burgundy of her shoes and glasses, pearl drop earrings and a subdued but natural hue of make-up, Danielle Marie Parnell was a perfect vision of her sexy authoritarian self.

Although neither of her two stage mates paid her much mind, Emily Duncan -- who was very sensibly dressed in a JC Penny navy blue rayon suit, white blouse and comfortable navy shoes with a 2" heel -- was naught but a bundle of nerves. Having been humiliated by Danielle both the prior night at the Mothers' Guild meeting and this morning at the gym had precipitated a giant crisis of confidence for the poor woman as well as an onslaught of anxiety.

Thankfully she had remembered her anti-anxiety medication, water soluble pills that she had just surreptitiously dropped into a glass water pitcher -- sitting directly behind a card with her name on it -- that would soon be set out for her on stage. The drugs packed an incredibly powerful punch, but having been on them for quite some time, and given her current level of stress, she knew they would help her settle in comfortably but focused in respect of what laid ahead.
Well -- they would have helped her settle in and focus if in fact the water pitcher behind her name card had belonged to her. In fact, Mrs. Duncan's pitcher was the one sitting directly in front of that card. The pitcher behind it -- the one into which Emily had dropped her powerful anti-anxiety medication -- belonged to Mrs. Danielle Marie Parnell.

* * *

As Calum dimmed the house lights and a spotlight focused on center stage, Brother Joshua's deep, disembodied voice boomed out from the public address system, "ladies and gentlemen, students, parents, teachers and invited guests, welcome to Gonzaga High School's annual Political Awareness Day. If you'd kindly turn your attention to center stage I'd like to introduce to you today's participants as well as our moderator. I'd ask that you refrain from your applause until all three women have come on stage. Joining us from Juneau, Alaska, the former Governor of that great state and the 2008 Republican candidate for Vice President of the United States, Sarah Palin . . . from Davidson, Maryland, local district attorney and mom to our own Calum Duncan, Mrs. Emily Duncan . . . and last but by no means least, today's moderator, the managing partner of the SmythKnight law firm, Vice President of the Gonzaga Mothers' Guild and mother to sophomore Will Parnell, Mrs. Danielle Parnell."

Due in some part to the excitement of the day generally and in large part to almost one thousand pubescent boys watching two highly confident, preening, uber-MILFs veritably strutting across the stage to take their places, thunderous applause greeted all three women as they were introduced. What went unseen by anyone, however, in the moment before Emily Duncan came out on stage, was Danielle Parnell whispering into the local DA's ear.

"Emily Dear," said the leather clad prima donna, "it would be a shame if you ended up humiliating yourself in front of that son of yours and all his little friends. Let's try not to let that happen, shall we."

And then, with a wicked smile on her beautiful face as she gestured to her own impeccably dressed and incredibly fit body, Danielle Parnell reiterated her taunt from earlier that day, "and remember. . . this always beats that."

Needless to say, the first thing Emily Duncan did once the initial applause subsided and she had taken her seat was to drink a glass of -- sadly plain -- water.

With the participants in place, Political Awareness Day began as anyone would expect. During the first part of the program, Mrs. Parnell raised topics such as income inequality, immigration and entitlement reform and invited, alternatively, the view from the right from Governor Palin and the view from the left from Mrs. Duncan. Each woman articulately and effectively stated her position and the tone remained quite civil.

"Thank you both ladies," began Mrs. Parnell after taking a sip of her water and standing up from behind the large desk where she sat on stage to speak from the podium adjacent thereto, "that was a most interesting discussion of many of the important policy issues facing this year’s electorate -- including some of our very own senior boys here today."

Feeding off the desire emanating from the boys and men sitting in the audience as they drank in her splendor, the comely counselor continued, "during this next phase of our discussion I will alternatively be asking each of Governor Palin and Mrs. Duncan some pointed political questions regarding whether and how their professional and personal lives reflect the platforms of their respective parties."

After sitting down again, taking another sip of water and flipping open the laptop that sat before her, Danielle Parnell went on smiling falsely, "I hope you're ready ladies -- these boys deserve our best performance up here and I haven't pulled any punches with my questions. Based on a coin toss earlier today, beginning with Governor Palin, I'll ask that each of you step up to the podium on my right so that I may ask you a question and then, from the podium, I and the audience will expect you to provide your answer. My only other request is that you limit your answers to thirty seconds."

The other two women on stage nodded their assent and, as the auditorium's male population focused intently, Sarah Palin uncrossed her legs, rose from her chair and confidently made her way to the podium Danielle had referenced. As the gorgeous governor walked, neither she -- nor anyone else for that matter -- noticed the slight gape in the seam that ran down the side of her pleated navy skirt.

"Governor Palin," Mrs. Parnell inquired of the former politician removing her glasses for effect, "you said earlier today that you're dedicated to helping the Republican Party win the White House this year. As we all know, you have endorsed Donald Trump as a candidate for that office as well as suggested to the Speaker of the House that he should be voted out for not doing the same. As recently as this week, your name has been floated as a potential Vice Presidential candidate. Don't you think it's more damaging to your party than not -- and more divisive -- to have a failed VP candidate -- a loser -- suggest that the highest ranking Republican in the land be voted out of office? And why do you think an electorate that has already rejected you as Vice President eight years ago would suddenly favor you today?"

Sarah Palin was incensed. She had accepted this invitation in large part because Ellie Kerr was going to tee up questions that the Governor could knock out of the park while at the same time permitting her a forum in which to belittle some liberal local-yokel lawyer. Instead, some arrogant, self-centered little know-it-all was putting her on the defensive -- on TV nonetheless. She knew she had to do something quick or this would become Tina Fey all over again.

"Now you wait just one second there Mrs. Parnell," came Ms. Palin's Alaskan accented voice sounding more shrill than usual due to the anger building up inside her.

Leaning into the podium to steady her ire, Sarah Palin continued, "first of all, Donald Trump is going to make America great again and I'm very proud to support that effort. As for Paul Ryan . . . well . . . I stand by what I said. He needs to come into line or he's gonna' find himself on the outside lookin' in. And I'm no loser madam . . . no I am not . . . you should remember that Ronald Reagan lost the 1976 Republican primary to Gerald Ford and no one ever called him by that name."

As the crowd applauded Mrs. Palin's pluck and her ability to think on her feet, and just before the Governor’s 30 seconds were up, Danielle Parnell -- with a self-satisfied smile on her face -- set her trap.

"Thank you Governor Palin. Oh, and by the way, unlike you Ronald Reagan almost won that primary where he was pitted against a sitting president and he did win the presidency both times he was in fact nominated. As you so correctly pointed out -- he was no loser."

And then, evoking Lloyd Bentsen's put down of Dan Quayle some quarter century before, Danielle Marie Parnell snapped the trap shut, "Mrs. Palin, as a very young girl I knew President Reagan . . . President Reagan was a family friend of ours . . . and you Governor are no President Reagan. In fact, quite literally, you are a loser."

Every boy and man in the crowd, and certainly every liberal woman, no matter what they might have thought of Mrs. Parnell, burst into applause as the lovely lawyer delivered a veritable knock-out punch to Sarah Palin. The males were mesmerized by how effortlessly Will Parnell's mother had dominated this national politician. The women were just glad to see the limelight seeking Sarah Palin taken down a peg or two.

Staring daggers at Mrs. Parnell, Sarah Palin began angrily to respond, "wait just one second here . . ."

But before she got her next word out, Danielle blithely cut her off, "I'm so sorry Governor, we have no seconds to wait. Your thirty have expired and now we must move on to Mrs. Duncan. Please have a seat."

Stunned and tongue-tied by the snarky rebuke and feeling the 2000 or so eyes in the auditorium staring intently at what her next move might be, Sarah Palin, with diffident purpose, decided for decorum's sake to stay silent and began the walk back to her waiting chair.

Unfortunately for the angry Alaskan, as she moved out from behind the center-stage podium, the slight gape toward the bottom of her very patriotic, navy-blue, pleated, Fendi, skirt, caught on one of the nails running up the side of the wooden rostrum that was intended to hide the microphone wire leading up from the stage floor. In an instant, and with an audible RIIIIIIIIIP, the front of the sexy Governor's skirt tore, from the hem immediately above her left knee almost all the way to her waist, revealing an incredibly fit and enticingly mouthwatering amount of thigh.

"Oh my God, my skirt," screamed Mrs. Palin as the men and boys in the audience got hard almost as one and the women thanked their lucky stars it hadn't happened to them.

To the very good fortune of the somewhat indisposed pol, the tear had stopped some four inches or so below her waist preventing -- at least for now -- any further embarrassment for the Governor. Calum Duncan laughed from his perch in the control booth. His "modifications" to Sarah Palin's outfit seemed actually to have worked.

Smiling like the Cheshire Cat Mrs. Parnell broke the uncomfortable silence.

"How embarrassing Governor," she said feigning concern, "I think everyone here would understand if you didn't want to continue."

Playing on the gob-smacked Governor's confusion Danielle continued, "I do want to apologize if my stumping you on that last question caused any of this . . . this . . . well . . . I guess the situation speaks for itself."

Although she knew she should have left the stage to change her skirt -- or at least to mend the tear -- Sarah Louise Palin was not going to let this little tease get the best of her.

"That's quite alright Mrs. Parnell," came the state executive's response as she did her best to regain her composure, "this wasn't precisely the fashion statement I intended to make today but with a bit of care I'll be just fine to go on."

"Very well then," came Danielle's rejoinder loving that she had manipulated the goofy governor into remaining on the stage. "Mrs. Duncan, the next question is for you."

Emily Duncan, looking even more anxious than she felt as she imagined the humiliation of having her skirt rip, made her way slowly to the podium

"Mrs. Duncan," Danielle began, "or may I call you Emily?"

Not prepared for that particular query, Emily Duncan, with beads of sweat now beginning to form on her brow, awkwardly stammered, "well . . . okay . . . I guess . . . I mean, yes, yes you may."

With a condescending look on her perfectly made-up face Mrs. Parnell mocked, "well that is your name now dear, isn't it."

As the men and boys in the audience -- save for Calum who was fuming -- laughed heartily at Mrs. Duncan's discomfort and the women -- including Sarah Palin who was still reeling from her own humiliation -- squirmed sympathetically for the poor woman, Emily Duncan meekly responded, "yes . . . that's my name."

"Very good then Emily," Danielle continued as Mrs. Duncan realized that once again she was being forced to play the fool to Mrs. Parnell's machinations, "now here is your first question. Judging from your rather pedestrian wardrobe -- let's just say it seems heavy on function and light on style -- and some of your earlier statements, it appears that you agree with many of Bernie Sanders' socialist policy positions. That said, you send your son here -- to Gonzaga -- a school that values achievement, individuality and America as the land of opportunity. How do you square that decision with your support of a political system that wants to mandate equality -- to in essence squeeze both the least and most talented among us into -- again apropos of your look today -- the same ill-fitting suit."

As his poor, mortified mother stood speechless on stage, clearly sweating and panicked, Calum Duncan knew it was high time for him to turn the tables on Mrs. Parnell.