The political campaign turned Howard into a caricature.

He hated that.

He ate baloney sandwiches on the road, with mustard, and no Mayonnaise. Whoever came up with Mayonnaise, was a sick man, Howard thought.

His opponent was a woman.

Getting beaten by her for the most powerful position in the world, would be humiliating—worse than being dominated by a female sumo wrestler who didn’t wipe.

His speeches were a stand-up comic routine, so people would laugh at his political points.

If they paid attention, he would get their vote. 

He had to be the man, who could press the button.

He had to have a steady hand, that wouldn’t hesitate.

All of Howard’s supporters were fat, and slapped him on the back. He was fat too, but he covered it up with extra-large suits.

Howard was a clown.

He hated that.

He had to give a show, to be interesting, or people would watch the bachelorette, instead.

Being reduced to nothing, so that he could be something, sickened him—it was Mayonnaise, all over his face again.

But when he won, the power rushed inside him like the winds of war.

He would save the world from tyranny, by killing millions of people in the name of freedom.

His winning speech was written by a pimpled-faced genius in middle school who had just learned about the constitution, but didn’t understand what it meant.

Freedom was an excuse, to do whatever he wanted. That’s what it meant to him, and that’s all that mattered, he thought. He was the truth.

But then, he walked into his War Room and was greeted by a new scene. Somber faces that weren’t human.

Howard almost shit his pants.

Aliens were dressed in suits, with three fingers on each hand, and they were all pointing the middle finger at him, like they were about to tell him what to do.

“Sir, you didn’t just inherit the presidency of a nation to govern the world, but the responsibility of a galaxy, to govern the universe,” his secretary of defense said.

It took a while, for the message to sink in.

Then, Howard composed himself, like a bad symphony.

“Come on guys. You got those masks at the party store,” he accused.

To be continued…

4 thoughts on “The Political Campaign

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