Hillary Clinton sat an ornately carved wooden desk, resting her face in her palms. The trials had been going on for what seemed like a lifetime. Had it been 6 months? A year? The days were getting hard to count, probably because the only sleep she got was when she collapsed, too exhausted to hold her head up. He was persistent, but she wasn’t prepared to give up. He would not break her.
A yellow light on the wall clicked on. Hillary cleared her throat and pressed down the red button on the intercom in front of her.
“Commence to the next stage,” she said.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 068] If You Bern It, Does It Not Bleed?” »
The lighting rig creaked as Ted Cruz kneeled atop the metal trusses. Thousands of people rustled beneath him, mumbling to each other about thugs and ISIS and welfare between mouthfuls of popcorn and soda. These were Ted’s kind of people. He used to fill town halls and lecture halls full of wide eyed, white skinned, blue collared Americans like these. They would come for miles to hear him preach the American truth. About how his family heard the sweet song of Lady Liberty and pierced through the iron curtain to fall into the warm embrace of her bosom. About how, with nothing but sticktoitiveness and and the grace of God Almighty, he overcame adversity to seize his dream, one which is shared with all young patriotic boys; becoming a Junior Senator from Texas.
But they weren’t here for Ted. Ted couldn’t fill a minivan these days because of him. That’s why he had to die. Continue reading “[Election ‘016 066] I Am Become Ted-th” »
Ted and John: Super-Teamup Fight Time Go!
It was almost time.
Ted Cruz pulled up the spandex on his suit in a glorious montage, showing his latex gloves, his American flag-patterned boots, his metal-studded codpiece, and the amazing T-embroidered shirt he wore to top it all off, complete with seemingly permanently-erect nipples poking through. He was almost ready to do battle against all the baddies. He was… the Firebrand.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 065] Ted and John: Super-Teamup Fight Time Go!” »
The unconscious Jeb! was sprawled across his couch, his slacks and dress shirt disheveled and stained with orange tinted smears and brown splotches. The floor, coffee table, and every inch of the couch not occupied by his bloated body were covered in sticky beer and soda cans and food wrappers, all licked free of crumbs. Jeb’s phone, rattled the half empty Mtn Dew that was placed on top of it, jolting Jeb! awake and sending detritus streaming off the couch and crashing to the floor like a waterfall of aluminum. Jeb! blindly swatted at the tabletop until he grabbed his phone and hit talk.
“Whuuuuh…. what the hell do you want? Who is this?” Jeb! mumbled into the receiver.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 058] The Death of Jeb!” »
The Prince of Light
The sunrise shone brightly like an omelette, steam rising from the skillet as the cheese melted into its surface. No, wait. More like a sponge cake rising in the oven. Yeah, that sounded better.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 054] The Prince of Light” »
Jim Gilmore’s Existence
Jim Gilmore, the one from our universe, looks out at the sea and sheds a tear. It falls off his face, past the pier, and into the bay. It ripples across the still waters. The night is black, and the moon is gone. Literally.
The Alternate Universe Jim Gilmore (AU Jim), who has entered our universe and is running for president, floats down onto the pier and places a hand on Our Universe’s Jim Gilmore (OU Jim). He does not feel remorse and is only performing the required comforting actions to attempt to soothe OU Jim’s emotions. It does not work because OU Jim knows what AU Jim is doing. He looks to AU Jim, angrily crying about how everything has failed, everything has gone to ruin, all because of you. AU Jim looks at the reader, wondering if that’s who he meant, but OU Jim clarifies, saying that none of this would have ever happened if he never arrived.
AU Jim agrees. And then he laughs.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 047] Jim Gilmore’s Existence” »
GOP Debate: Energy
The debate stage was set. Lindsey “Linds” Graham in the center, with John Kosoick on his left, and the Alternate Reality Jim Gilmore (ARJG) on his right. The others on the left included Jeb!, The Donald, and Scott Walker. Those on the right side were Ted Cruz, Science Man (formerly known as Ben Carson), and George Pataki.
Off to the side, those that had participated in the undercard debate, were Rick Santorum, Robert Jindal, Carly Fiorina, Our Universe’s Jim Gilmore (OUJG) and Marco Rubio. They got to sit and watch as the big boys were asked the real-candidate questions. Rand Paul had been missing for two weeks, and a massive search party still had not brought any results, so he was not present at the debate.
“Okay, candidates,” the moderator said. “You know the rules. When addressed, you have exactly twenty-five seconds to answer the question. Then if you bring someone up, they get two minutes to rebut your claim.”
“Is everyone ready…” the other guy next to the moderator, who may have also been a moderator, not sure, began. “TO RUMBLE!!!!!!!”
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 029] GOP Debate: Energy” »
INT. SUBURBAN KITCHEN – DAY
A man, average build, in a plaid jacket and balaclava sits on a foldout chair in middle of the room. Several locks of curly brown hair peek out from the headwear, accompanied by a bushy black mustache of questionable authenticity. He is BARTY RANDERSON. A boom box sits on the table next to him. He stares blankly at the camera for a moment before pressing the play button on the boom box. The Gremlins Theme plays.
Hiiiiiiiiii. My name is Barty Randerson, friendly protector of
conservative constitutional values in that little ol’ neighborhood
you’ve got there.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 020] Barty Randerson and the Libertarian’s Legacy” »
Today, we’re posting Home Clipart Animal Deer’s very first Guest Post; our friend Ktalaki has written a President story for Governor Chris Christie, and we’re happy to have it on this site. Enjoy:
The Chris Christie Bridge
“Hey you!” a professionally suited businessman said, getting the attention of Chris Christie as he rolled down the sidewalk on his Segway i2 SE. The man was holding a heavy briefcase, so Christie could tell he was a genuine professional. “You look like a man of great taste. I think I’ve got an offer just for you.”
It was true; Chris Christie was a man of excellent taste. He especially loved the fine delicacies at Wegmans markets, often making several trips in one day. “What kind of offer?” Christie asked.
Continue reading “[Election ‘016 015] The Chris Christie Bridge” »