Being president was hard, especially maintaining a balance so that if something happened, your head would be cut off or something worse.

Late evening. Your working day will end soon. You are terribly tired, lately everything has begun to irritate you, even an ordinary flower.

And now you are sitting in your office at the table, getting drunk. There were several empty bottles on the floor next to your table, about three or something like that. You continued to drink, despite the fact that you were starting to feel a little sick, due to the fact that you hardly drank alcohol before. Now you have finished the last bottle that you managed to take and folded your hands on the table and laid your head on them.

The feeling of nausea changed, turning into something more pleasant, something warm, the only thing you wanted to do now was fall asleep and not have anyone touch you.

Suddenly someone entered your office, it was your military general. Most likely, he again wanted something that would slightly increase his power. But when he saw you drunk and lying on the table, he looked at you with slight surprise.

"President?"