[Election ‘016 51] Eve of Iowa

Ted Cruz

Ted got out a pack of crayons and set them on the table next to a large piece of construction paper. He opened the pack and sniffed that crayon-y smell fresh out of the box. He took out the macaroni-and-cheese one and began to draw a map of Iowa.

Drawing this map of Iowa and then dividing it into its ninety-nine counties was the only way he could unwind and relax tonight. It helped him take his mind off the stress and put his energies into something creative and powerful and beautiful and intuitive.

He just wished that President Reagan could see him now. His drawing was sure to look great and represent the heart of America, but he wanted more than anything for Reagan to be proud of him,

One day, though, he would make the man happy, he thought as he marked a giant green X over Des Moines.

[Election ‘016 034] Pataki-Attack

Pataki-Attack

Thedude3445

 

Useless. It was all useless. It all sucked, and was terrible as well.

[Election ‘016 033] The Three Governors

“…we commend to Almighty God our brother, Bobby; and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him, the Lord lift up his countenance upon him and give him peace. Amen.”

“Amen,” Jeb!, George, and Chris said in unison. Chris buried his face in the collar of his shirt. Jeb! wrapped his arms around his friend and held him close.

“I can’t believe he’s gone, Jeb!. It was… it was a week ago that we were at the debates and I said – oh god, Jeb!! I made fun of his ears! If I would’ve known then I wouldn’t have-”

[Election ‘016 002] Pataki-Cake

George Pataki sat down, legs crossed, in front of a three-year old girl named Charlotte. There was nothing around them in this room; no windows, nothing on the walls, and only one grey door separate from the blue wallpaper, blue carpet, and blue ceiling. George put his hands up and followed the girl’s motions as she sang her song.

“Patty-cake, patty cake, Baker’s man,” she said in a rhythmic manner. She began swaying her hands back and forth, and George followed her movements. Their hands met; George’s left clapped against Charlotte’s right. The hands separated, and then the opposite hands met, this time George’s right meeting with Charlotte’s left.

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can,” she continued. George could not comply to her request, as he was stuck in a cyclical, roundabout loop of hands clapping. Neither one of them could stop, and it disturbed George. He did not wish to remain like this; stagnant, stuck in a current as he was. However, there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.