Election Day Prediction, 2016
Let’s predict the future. November 8th arrives. It’s an otherwise dreary Tuesday. Millions of people work, begrudgingly, all day long, pushing things around and pretending smiles. On their way home from work, they stop and spend five hours of the day’s salary on booze and potato chips. Traffic is unusually rough because one old lady forgot she was driving. She was daydreaming about getting her wrinkly thighs massaged in the oval office.
Right about the time dinner is ready, the results start coming in. New York, Florida, Ohio. It works it’s way west like a fart on a public bus. *Farts always travel west on public transport, it’s science, centrifugal force. The same property of physics that makes Australian toilets flood instead of flush. Clinton wins one, two. Then Trump wins one and Clinton and Trump. It goes back and forth.
The news anchors on all the television channels wiggle right to the edge of their seats. They’re dressed particularly fancy on this Tuesday night. They use all the big words they know and some big words they haven’t had time to look up. Dinners across American are spilled down the fronts of shirts. The food is bad. Never good food on election day. Except for the few intelligent people who order pizza and wings.
Breaking news: Clinton wins another state. More breaking news: Trump wins the state in which he was caught grabbing handfulls of pussies with and without permission. The news anchors hold their ear pieces. Something is coming across the line. Flash cut to an nondescript office. There’s a man at a desk, with a calculator and a dull pencil. He’s dressed by his mother most likely. He pushes his glasses up his nose and begins to spout off computations. “It would take exactly 34% of the vote for Hillary to seal the deal. If he’s got any chance, Trump must find a victory in the swing states, Colorado and Nevada.
Meanwhile, outside, guns are being fired up into the air. Some of them first passing through the desperate brain matter of the shooters. Bodies are dropping. Drunk is at an all time high. It’s estimated that 73% of Americans are above the legal limit, including children and the elderly. There’s unrelated breaking news. A riot at one of the polls. Four dead, smacked to death with ballot boxes. Two official government agents were allegedly seen tampering with mail-in vote storage units. The security footage cuts conveniently, just before they were able to compromise the locks. Several suspected terrorists in custody in four states for planning election day attacks. One small car bomb explodes, the details filtering in slowly. Could be a ISIS, or the Westboro Baptist Church. The conspiracy theorists immediately label it a ploy on the Republican side. Power outages devastate long streets in poor neighborhoods. Emergency rooms are overrun. Nurse’s assistants are ejecting patients out the fire exits by their collars.
Looks bad for Trump. The picture cuts to Clinton strutting arrogantly, cigar in the corner of her mouth. She kisses a baby and sets it down on the floor rather than handing it back to the parent. The results for Colorado are in. Clinton. That should about seal the deal. The man with the calculator taps in numbers and looks puzzled. Those on the late shift hurry to the ballots, although the outcome is more or less set in stone. TMZ releases images of Trump, just minutes ago, snorting a line of cocaine off an elderly woman bosom. It could be a photoshop, but there isn’t enough time to investigate.
Hours before the Hawaiians get to put in their vote, the decision is made. Hillary Clinton is the next President of the United States. The first woman to hold the position. Corporations begin salivating. War mongers rub themselves on the edges of their desks. Clinton’s speech is a diatribe of slurred words and shitty fourth grade poetry. Bill Clinton is photographed sleeping into his own chest during the speech. A tussle in the crowd breaks out. Possible assassination attempt is the word. Not confirmed.
It’s a small step for mankind. In which direction? Who knows. A terrible display of a blatantly flawed political system for America. Women can be president. Celebrity billionaires can probably be president too. Obama charters a plane back to Kenya and releases his official birth certificate showing his true citizenship and allegiance to the African mafia.