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Cultist Leader Wivalynn Prepares to Claim the next Presidency

Old torn tent in an undisclosed forest: I recently attended a meeting of what can only be considered evil cultists bent on obtaining world domination and free Wifi. Normally I steer clear of such events, unless they are giving away free beer, but I had met a young woman named Bambi and it just seemed natural to follow her into the woods. I was hoping for a moment of intimacy, which gets harder when you come upon several thousand raving fanatics jacked up on LSD patches and opium tick tacks.





I lost sight of Bambi when she joined a cell phone circle, which I guess is a thing where hundreds of young people gather together to all play on their cell phone in complete silence while ignoring each other. After purchasing my ‘Don’t judge me, before you walk a mile in my underwear,’ t-shirt, I approached the main stage, which had been constructed in the likeness of hundreds of decapitated Trump and Clinton heads which although bloody were all oddly snorting lines of chopped money mixed with human souls or maybe it was just really sad whip cream.




Wivalynn eluded Charisma and actually made some sense, although I had listened to a Trump speech right before I headed there, so two parrots gang banging a hamster might have sounded good to me.

“Hillary thinks her connections will get her into the White House,” he started. “Trump supporters say he shoots from the hip, but both candidates are each forced to jump through hoops and bow down to their funding masses and party leaders. Me…” he drew a pistol fired three rounds into a tall man sitting behind him, “I answer to no one. See I just shot my vice president.”




For some reason this brought forth cheers from everyone. Perhaps these were all the Trumps supports so stupid that they were barred from his rallies, which seems a bit like saying certain fish were kicked out of the ocean for being too wet.

“I won’t need speeches. I won’t have to appeal to voters.” He lowered his voice and began to dance his fingers around like dying spiders. “All I’ll need is the powers of hypnotism. My mind bending message will appear on every google search, on each streamed Netflix movie, and on the box of ever twelve pack. No one will even know they have been controlled until after they leave the voting booth and by then it will be far too late.” Then he did a bunch of those muh ha ha muh ha ha mah ha ha things.


So you are probably wondering how I stopped him and believe me I would have, if Bambi haven’t shown back up in this little mini bikini thing with a bucket of jello shots with Bill Cosby’s face on them. If you are thinking they were ruffies, then you’d be right. I can’t believe she took away my right to choose and even worse my ability to remember why I woke up butt naked in the middle of a water park.




So now I know what’s coming. I can’t get online, watch TV, or even buy a twelve pack and damn that’s so much more economical that only buying the sixers. So here I sit to wait out the election. Oh wait someone is calling me. I… vote for Wivalynn, Vote for Wivalynn…





You can get more laughs here


And you can grab more of my comedy fiction here




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