REALLY slow news day if my running for student council president qualified as a decent story, when one of the reporters asked me a question that shed a little light on just why Grandmère was so keen on my making an ass of myself in front of Middle America, and not just my fellow AEHS students.
“Princess Mia,” a journalist from the Indianapolis Star asked. “Isn’t it true that the only reason you’re running for student council president—and the only reason we were invited here today—is that your family is trying to distract the news media from the real story currently hitting headlines in Europe—your act of ecoterrorism, concerning the dumping of ten thousand snails into the Bay of Genovia?”
Suddenly, two dozen microphones were shoved into my face. I blinked a few times, then went, “But that wasn’t an act of ecoterrorism. I did that to save the—”
Then Grandmère was clapping her hands and going, “Who wants a nice glass of grappa? Come now, real Genovian grappa. No one can resist that!”
But none of the reporters were falling for it.
“Princess Mia, would you like to comment on the fact that Genovia is currently being considered for expulsion from the EU, thanks to your selfish act?”
Another one cried, “How does it feel, Your Highness, to know that you’re single-handedly responsible for destroying your own nation’s economy?”
“Wh…What?” I couldn’t believe it. What were these reporters talking about?
For once, Lilly came to my rescue.
“People!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “If you don’t have any more questions about Mia’s campaign for school president, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”
“Cover-up!” someone yelled. “That’s all this is! A cover-up to keep us from the real story!”
“Princess Mia, Princess Mia,” someone else called, as Lars began herding—or, to put it more accurately, bodily removing—all of the reporters from the suite. “Are you a member of ELF, the Earth Liberation Front? Do you want to make a statement on behalf of other ecoterrorists like yourself?”
“Well,” Grandmère said, downing half a Sidecar in one gulp as Lars finally closed the doors on the last of the reporters. “That went well, don’t you think?”
I couldn’t believe it. I just sat there in total shock. Ecoterrorism? ELF? All because of some SNAILS????
Lilly picked up her Palm Pilot (when did she get one of those???) and strolled over to where Grandmère was standing.
“Right. So we’ve got Time magazine at six, and Newsweek at six thirty,” Lilly said. “I heard from NPR, and I definitely think we should squeeze them in this evening—drive time, you know. It can’t hurt. And we got a request from New York One for Mia to go on tonight’s broadcast of Inside Politics. I’ve gotten them to swear there won’t be any questions about the E word. What do you think?”
“Marvelous,” Grandmère said, taking another swig from her Sidecar. “What about Larry King?”
Lilly tapped the headset she’d slipped on and said, “Antoine? Have you gotten hold of Larry K yet? No? Well, get on it.”
Larry K? The E word? What was HAPPENING?
Which is exactly what I wailed.
Grandmère and Lilly looked at me as if only just realizing I was there at all.
“Oh,” Lilly said, taking off the headset. “Mia. Right. The ELF thing? Don’t worry about it. Par for the course.”
PAR FOR THE COURSE???? Since when has Lilly known anything about golf?
“We didn’t want to trouble you, Amelia,” Grandmère said coolly, as she lit a cigarette. “It’s nothing, really. Tell me, is that really how you’re wearing your hair these days? Wouldn’t you like it better if it were a little…shorter?”
“What is going on?” I demanded, ignoring her hair question. “Is Genovia REALLY going to get expelled from the EU for what I did with the snails?”
Grandmère exhaled a long plume of blue smoke.
“Not if I have anything to say
“Princess Mia,” a journalist from the Indianapolis Star asked. “Isn’t it true that the only reason you’re running for student council president—and the only reason we were invited here today—is that your family is trying to distract the news media from the real story currently hitting headlines in Europe—your act of ecoterrorism, concerning the dumping of ten thousand snails into the Bay of Genovia?”
Suddenly, two dozen microphones were shoved into my face. I blinked a few times, then went, “But that wasn’t an act of ecoterrorism. I did that to save the—”
Then Grandmère was clapping her hands and going, “Who wants a nice glass of grappa? Come now, real Genovian grappa. No one can resist that!”
But none of the reporters were falling for it.
“Princess Mia, would you like to comment on the fact that Genovia is currently being considered for expulsion from the EU, thanks to your selfish act?”
Another one cried, “How does it feel, Your Highness, to know that you’re single-handedly responsible for destroying your own nation’s economy?”
“Wh…What?” I couldn’t believe it. What were these reporters talking about?
For once, Lilly came to my rescue.
“People!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “If you don’t have any more questions about Mia’s campaign for school president, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”
“Cover-up!” someone yelled. “That’s all this is! A cover-up to keep us from the real story!”
“Princess Mia, Princess Mia,” someone else called, as Lars began herding—or, to put it more accurately, bodily removing—all of the reporters from the suite. “Are you a member of ELF, the Earth Liberation Front? Do you want to make a statement on behalf of other ecoterrorists like yourself?”
“Well,” Grandmère said, downing half a Sidecar in one gulp as Lars finally closed the doors on the last of the reporters. “That went well, don’t you think?”
I couldn’t believe it. I just sat there in total shock. Ecoterrorism? ELF? All because of some SNAILS????
Lilly picked up her Palm Pilot (when did she get one of those???) and strolled over to where Grandmère was standing.
“Right. So we’ve got Time magazine at six, and Newsweek at six thirty,” Lilly said. “I heard from NPR, and I definitely think we should squeeze them in this evening—drive time, you know. It can’t hurt. And we got a request from New York One for Mia to go on tonight’s broadcast of Inside Politics. I’ve gotten them to swear there won’t be any questions about the E word. What do you think?”
“Marvelous,” Grandmère said, taking another swig from her Sidecar. “What about Larry King?”
Lilly tapped the headset she’d slipped on and said, “Antoine? Have you gotten hold of Larry K yet? No? Well, get on it.”
Larry K? The E word? What was HAPPENING?
Which is exactly what I wailed.
Grandmère and Lilly looked at me as if only just realizing I was there at all.
“Oh,” Lilly said, taking off the headset. “Mia. Right. The ELF thing? Don’t worry about it. Par for the course.”
PAR FOR THE COURSE???? Since when has Lilly known anything about golf?
“We didn’t want to trouble you, Amelia,” Grandmère said coolly, as she lit a cigarette. “It’s nothing, really. Tell me, is that really how you’re wearing your hair these days? Wouldn’t you like it better if it were a little…shorter?”
“What is going on?” I demanded, ignoring her hair question. “Is Genovia REALLY going to get expelled from the EU for what I did with the snails?”
Grandmère exhaled a long plume of blue smoke.
“Not if I have anything to say
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