They Just don’t Understand

I’m astounded by all of this talk of thousands of dead people voting. They clearly don’t know what it would take for that to happen. I know because I got a dead person to vote. One person!

Being very concerned about this election I decided to help the cause by raising the dead to vote. I chose a well know union organizer and democratic stalwart as my first voter. After much research I was confidant I had the right incantations learned. I just needed a pure black cockerel to sacrifice at midnight on the dark of the moon.

Pure black cockerels are rare. I must have snuck into a hundred henhouses and had to pick three loads of shot out of my ass. I thought about the alternative ceremony of sacrificing a young virgin instead but those farmers watch their daughters even closer than their chicken houses. Finally I found the perfect bird just two days before the final new moon of the election cycle.

Sneaking into the cemetery just at dusk I spent four hours excavating the grave and opening the coffin. Just before midnight I lit my candles made from the tallow of an unborn rhino (closest to a unicorn I could get). Stripping naked I began my chants, timing it so I slit the roosters throat over the bones just at midnight.

Success! The old leftist stood before me ready to vote one more time. Unfortunately he insisted on voting for Adlai Stevenson. At least I got a good chicken soup out of the deal.