Author's Note: Finally I have a great idea for a (hopefully) great story!!!!! :D It's been a while since I last wrote...man...I've abandoned you guys for too long...and I hope you like my return gift ;) Enjoy!!!!! Read and review please!!!!!! :D


The Philanthropist

Prologue: Prime Minister

July 10, 2006

A young man in his early thirties adjusted his bifocals as he walked briskly towards the President's office. He passed soundproofed mahogany doors, but was oblivious and too focused on his objective to think of what was going on behind them. Besides, there were other more important things to do than to just go snooping around.

He found the door he wanted, and rapped smartly on it thrice. Then he opened it and poked his head into the room. "Sir," he said, "the cameramen are here."

"I'll be right there, thank you, Cristobal," replied the President of the Philippines. He was fixing himself before a floor-length mirror, adjusting his black tie and checking his hair for unruly strands.

The President was a man of short stature, and quite a small build as well. Yet he had very big plans, most especially for the country he was governing. His face was smooth and always looked rather clean, with a prominent nose, deep-set almond eyes of dark brown and thin lips. His complexion was of the usual yellow-brown of the Filipinos (which was called kayumanggi among the countrymen), with his hair matching the color of his eyes.

Like the rest of the country, the President knew that he had done many a wrong move during his governance. Primarily, he had cheated in the elections. He had called someone from the Commission on Elections (more popularly known as the COMELEC) and ensured around a million votes. But how was he to know that someone would actually listen in on what was meant to be kept secret? Of course, he had had to make a public apology, and of course the public had completely lost their trust in him. So of course, he'd have to make it up to them, otherwise his plans would become but dreams, placed too far into the sky and out of his reach. He would have to prove himself to them again. And for a country filled almost to the brim with poor, uneducated citizens tormented by the hand of poverty, the Filipinos had too-high standards. They'd expected him to, technically, be God. They demanded jobs for themselves, education for their children...the list was endless, and it never failed to wear him out.

And that was the purpose of his plan. To end all this nonsense, to shape the country into what he'd always wanted and dreamed it to be: a new Philippines, the return of its former glory.

Obviously, the people are bound to disagree with his plans. Of course they would object. Filipinos were narrow-minded at heart, and they were sadly lacking in the ability to think outside the box. They didn't know that Angelo Marquez's plans were for the common good of the countrymen, for the better standard of living everyone had been dreaming of and wishing for as much as he was.

Which is why, again, the first step of the plan is already in progress. It is the longest and the most essential, but once done successfully, everything else would follow very smoothly. And all his efforts would be paid off.

"Are we ready, gentlemen?" inquired President Marquez as he walked into the living room of the Malacanang Palace, where the cameramen and Cristobal Roxas, his right-hand man, waited.

"Ready when you are, sir," answered one of the cameramen. Marquez nodded his assent, recalling that he had seen this man before. This was the very perky and energetic cameraman. The President wondered where this man got all his energy.

The two media handlers quickly set up the equipment, and Marquez sat on his sofa, ready to shoot yet another commericial.

So far, so good.


"Cristobal, listen. Soon the Philippines will rise, and become more prosperous than the First World countries in Asia. My brilliant, foolproof plan will see to that. And everyone will be thanking me for my exemplary governance," said Marquez, shortly after the cameramen left.

"Foolproof, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Believe me, we will no longer be in this despairingly pathetic state."

Cristobal personally did now understand this, but felt too tired to ask. Any fool would know that presidents loved giving long speeches. And those were often very tiring and (no offense meant) boring.

"I have already prepared the foundation of the future, Cristobal," the President went on, "my new officials are simply waiting in line for my cue."

"I see. You seem very sure of yourself, sir."

Marquez chuckled. "For once I am. The dawn of a bright future awaits us, Cristobal, so there is no time to lose."

"What exactly are you implying, sir?"

The President smiled. "Cristobal, my friend, you are looking at the blueprints for the creation of Prime Minister Angelo Marquez."


Author's Note: I know it's quite short...I think this is the shortest prologue I've ever created...ehehehe :P But I guess prologues are meant to be short...again, please read and review!!!! Thanks!!!! :)