[Election ‘016 28] Cage Match

The murmur of idle chatter and the scooting of restless foldout chairs filled the auditorium. Thousands of people, clad in torn up wife beaters and Marlboro light jackets, sat densely packed under the blaring stadium lights. A small man in a white and black striped shirt walked unnoticed from a side entrance and made his way up to the center of the ring, where a microphone dangled from the ceiling. He tapped on the microphone three times with his knuckled and the crowd silenced themselves, their eyes drawn to the man.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Boys and girls. People of all age, color, and creed are gathered under this roof for one thing and one thing only…” the man said into the microphone, holding onto the syllables for dramatic effect. “To celebrate our fine nation’s democratic system…. with a good ol’ fashioned smackdown!”

[Election ‘016 003] Con-(p)Air(y)

 

        A group of men sat around in a loose circle of chairs about 10 feet wide, beneath scalding white florescents. They were all dressed in orange jumpsuits emblazoned with long strings of numbers, besides one man in a green turtleneck and thick rimmed glasses. The man looked down past his glasses at the list of names on the clipboard in his hand.

          “Okay, very good, Michael,” Turtleneck crossed a name off the list. “Now Tyrone, it looks like it’s your turn. Please tell us a little about yourself and, if you’re comfortable, explain how you got here.”