What to do, what to do?

I'm expected to give a speech of some sort. What am I supposed to say? I've never done anything like this. I'm cursing my last minute decision to go into politics. I should have just let Jim have it. He didn't argue when he was told that, yet again, his baby sister would be taking over running the nation. Of course, that's not what he showed the public. Sigh. Isn't there supposed to be someone to write these things for me? Apparently, I'm supposed to take a trip to Paradise City to meet with some one. I'm not too sure if this was planned or if it's just a last minute thing. I honestly don't think I'm ready to have a meet and greet with other national leaders. From what I've been told and what I've witnessed, President Fernanda is a man-whore, what's his name from Kivisto is a creepy, creepy bastard, the Gruenberger's are a bunch of religious zealots and so on.

I suppose I should get to work on this bloody speech. Maybe I'll get my dear William to take a crack at it. I could use a nice relaxing day at the burlesque. It's been so long since I've made a visit for something other than business. My next visit will be for pleasure and for Dominique.

Izzy.