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He got off the plane and surveyed his surroundings. He could see for miles. Hills. Farms. Churches. Not like New York, where the horizon hid behind skyscrapers. As he walked towards the bland, unimpressive airport terminal, he could smell the manure from the nearby farms. It might not be a good idea to turn up his nose, he thought, as it might offend the locals. He did it anyway. The whole town stunk. But he had to get used to it. This was his new headquarters.

This was where he would launch his campaign. Not in New York, his home, where he lived in penthouses and towers and mansions. Not in the city where he cheated, lied, and blasphemed for nearly 70 years of his life. But here, in this hard-working, Christian little town where, he hoped, no one had heard of him, or his past deeds.

Here he could make himself anew. Pretend to be “one of them.” Yes, he had spent the past seven decades as a womanizing, draft-dodging, East Coast liberal. But here he could remake himself. Pretend to be a good, old fashioned, patriotic, Christian Conservative. As long as the locals didn’t get too curious (or have Internet access) he might pull it off.

His current wife accompanied him. He’d almost forgotten about her. Could she help him pull off the scam? She was a bit too exotic for the locals. And an immigrant to boot. Sad! Maybe replace her before the start of the campaign, he thought.
Chronophontes Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2018  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Sounds distressingly familiar...
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September 4, 2018


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