Vote for Me or Dreadful Things Will Happen

My friends (and let me say now, before I attempt to proceed any further, that I consider all of you to be my dearest friends), I would like to ask each one of you, with a humble earnestness that comes, purely and honestly, from the bottom of my steadfast heart, to cast your precious vote for me in the upcoming election. I know that your vote also is being sought by others, but if I may boldly say so, those others are far less worthy, in every way, than me. Only I, among those who are seeking your vote, can be said to truly understand your needs as citizens. Only I have the particular knowledge, and the rare ability, to carry out the necessary actions that you, as principled inhabitants of this great nation, ardently desire to be carried out.

Let me add that if, by some chance, I do not receive enough votes and therefore fail to be elected, dreadful things will happen. I make this fearful declaration not to sway you, or to unduly frighten you, but merely as a timely means of offering a kindly warning. What sort of dreadful things will happen? Well, my friends, to begin with, the sun will cease to shine. The moon will shrink until it is so small that it can no longer be seen. The stars will fall from the sky. Every ocean, every river, every lake, and every pond will dry up. All holidays, special occasions, and weekend get-togethers will be canceled forever. Dogs of all breeds will refuse to obey their masters, and cats will stop chasing mice. Birds will lose their ability to fly. Fish will forget how to swim.

What else will happen? All the ice cream in the world, including all the tutti-frutti and pistachio, will melt. Children will stop minding their manners, while pretending that they do not know their own fathers and mothers. Every man will be forced to have twenty-five mothers-in-law, even if he is not married, and every woman will be condemned to a pitiful life of household drudgery. All chocolate bars will be roughly seized by the authorities, and summarily outlawed. All forms of money will evaporate. Every channel on television, everywhere, will broadcast only endless reruns of The Brady Bunch, all day, every day, until the end of time. Many other dreadful things, most of them much too horrible to be described here, will also happen.

My dear friends, the choice is entirely yours, and I hope that you will choose wisely. The stakes are high, one might even say uncommonly high, but I believe, deep within the solemn confines of my God-fearing soul, that I can trust in your righteous wisdom. You can give your vote to me, and thereby ensure a better life for yourselves and for all citizens of our beloved nation, or you can vote otherwise, and choose the thorny path of unremitting ruin. When the hallowed moment comes for each of you to make your final decision, please remember what I have shared with you today, and cast your vote accordingly.  The future of your nation (and, quite frankly, the future of my bank account) depends upon it.