I'm Back You Assholes

CAMPAIGN MANAGER'S JOURNAL

I'm back, and better than ever, I might add. Before I was fired from McDougal's campaign I worried constantly. The stress nearly destroyed me. My health suffered. My mind suffered. My soul suffered.

No need to worry about that anymore though.

Let me tell you a story.

The night McDougal finally found me hiding in the overhead luggage bin and kicked me off the bus, the campaign convoy was cruising through the hill country of Mississippi. As I sat on the roadside, clutching my laptop, listening to the crickets chirping and praying for a cold rain under which I could curl up and die of exposure. The rain never came though. It was dry, dusty and warm that night. I wandered aimlessly along the side of the road for a while, hoping to hitch a ride somewhere. Anywhere. Preferably someplace with a hotly contested race for mayor, or maybe school board, where I could ply my trade. But there was not a car in sight.

At midnight I found myself at a crossroads, unsure which direction to take. I decided to sit down and wait, figuring that, with another road in the picture, my chances of hitching a ride would double. Suddenly a stranger appeared out of the darkness. The night was very still and quiet, yet I never heard him approach. He greeted me by name. He identified himself as The Devil. I laughed and asked his forgiveness for my disbelief, explaining that I was not a particularly religious man. "All the better for me," he replied, adding "but as for forgiveness, that is the realm of... that other guy." The devil explained that he could help me with my dilemma, that it was still possible for me to continue on in National politics, free from pesky moral qualms, able to act with unyielding certainty. He whispered that I could be the influence behind great power, be, in his words, "smoother than silk and slicker than grease."

All he wanted in return was just one little thing...

"So..." I asked, "in exchange for my soul, I become a brilliant and fearless political advisor?"

"Why not?" The Devil replied, "it worked for Karl Rove."

So here I find myself... Back on the bus. I don't remember how I got here. I'm holding in my hands a small box. It contains several critical replacement parts for the bus, a patch kit for the inflatable gorilla and tranquilizer darts and radio collars for the feral interns.

I feel great, really I do. Better than I've ever felt in my life.

I feel confident.

I feel flexible, like an eel.

Tomorrow is an election day.

I feel ready to work.