“Man, what is that?” one of the campaign workers asked another about the sound heard round the world. There was fear in his voice. It was yuge. Really yuge, that fear. His fear was afraid. That’s how yuge it was.
The sound was the sound of the Martians landing for a War of the Worlds. It was the sound of shock and awe. It was the sound of…well, you can imagine.
Since the Presidential Campaign had been going on, not one but two Washing of the Clyde Days had been cancelled in Weazel Sneeze. Out of frustration, Clyde Perkalater came to the P F Sneeze for President Campaign Headquarters. He figured that was the place he’d find the best jug and the best bathwater in all of the U S of A. And he was not wrong.
There in the middle of Campaign Headquarters was a giant swimming pool. He didn’t even shed his duds. He jumped in whole hog. It was later known in Campaign History as the Big Splash. Every man, woman and child, every Tom, Dick and Harry in that Headquarters got splashed.
He was the one who solved the mystery. From his place floating on the giant rubber duckie, he called out, “Do not worry. It’s the Big Snooze of the Big Sneaze.”
The sound was indeed P F Sneaze taking a snooze and he was taking it upstairs in his bedroom suite. He was sleeping through all the election action on the tv.
The Big News Guy came on with an emergency broadcasting announcement. You know, that announcement the broadcasters have if a nuclear weapon is on its way. He said, “We interrupt this broadcast for an announcement of vital importance. This is historic.
“In the history of American broadcasting, this has never occurred. Well, once. When Dan Rather had to eat his words over George W Bush’s military record. But never other than that. Well, maybe when we said man landed on the moon. We all know that occurred in the desert in Arizona. Other than that.
“Well, maybe a few other times. But not many. Any way this is historic. This announcement. Our projections in Alaska and Hawaii were—how shall we say it—wrong. Yes, I believe that is the word. The count from North Pole, Alaska has come in. Santa, Mrs. Santa and all the six thousand elves voted for P F Sneaze. So the Snooze from Weasel Sneeze has won Alaska. It still looks like the Little Twerp has Hawaii in his grasp.”
All that tawking had made the Big News Guy thirsty. He took a big gulp from his Big Gulp. His face went white. Even with all that makeup the Big News Guy wore, his face still went white.
He continued, “No, wait. The election totals are final. P F Sneaze, the log cabin candidate from Weazel Sneeze, has gone over the top with—I can’t believe this—one vote. He has been elected President of the United States by one vote.”
The roar from the Do Naughty Campaign Offices and Hotel Suites went up. There wasn’t a nook or a cranny in the United States where it was not heard.
Big Al Fresco had been right. P F Sneaze did look like a President. Because when you are elected President of the United States on the Tuesday after the first Monday in November, you look like a President of the United States. And that is the truth.
Next Week A Hot Time in the Old Town