When Mitt Romney defeated Hillary Clinton in the 2008 election, the United States of America paused. Open mouths dropped into laps. On that day, every citizen was alone. Baffled by the sound of one voice from the television set, they stared straight ahead — changing the channel, hoping to switch to another dream, even another nightmare. Still, with 99% of districts reporting, the machine held on with an iron fist: the electronic voting booth.

Incoherent and despondent, independent souls stalked the night streets muttering, “I’m only one. What can I do?” They scrambled, cold and stiff-legged, under green-glowing community-watch cameras. Their bellies rumbled with hunger. Sunken eyes stared toward Mitt’s acceptance speech streaming on flat screen billboards.

“Thank you. Thank you…thank…”

{WILD APPLAUSE}

“We need to do more for the average family. That’s why my first six months in office will be dedicated to achieving tax breaks for large families. We need a book in the hand and food on the table. At the bedrock of America, lies the great resolve of our forefathers. We must rise and heed their challenge. May your families be abundant; may we pledge unto thee — freedom isn’t free!”

These quick speeches lifted spirits. Immediate tax cuts led to the resumption of frivolous spending. Many new businesses took advantage of credit-steeped incentives. Thus, the NanoBoom began. First, as a cautious trickling of careful investors hit the market like new born fawns, wobbling, but soon hitting stride. Papa Murdoch was there to swoop them up when they were ready. He purchased emerging patents for robotic joints, super livers, self-suturing skin, and re-replicating limbs. In the meantime, tax breaks swung back in favor of old money: trust funds, estate sales, country clubs. Money for social programs dried up. Severe weather trends continued to swell unabated.

Soon, the middle class became extinct. Fossils remained: public schools, cable television, and Olive Garden. A new human species swarmed to its place: the Chuckles. The Chuckles worked 10-hour days, staring at monitors, pointing and clicking. They did not whistle while working. They did not dirty their hands. They wasted away in cubicles — growing more and more emaciated as the rich grew stronger, faster, and younger with new synthetic muscles and joints. The Chuckles worked like steady drones. Plopping on their couches, they watched ads for exciting new food-based products like Testaroni.

FEELING RUN DOWN?! TRY DOCTOR RECOMMENDED TESTA-RRRRRRRONI!

IT COMES 59 CENTS A CAN FOR THE MAN WITHOUT A PLAN!

An entire series of ads for the highly addictive Testaroni ran exclusively on basic cable. Ever-weakening Chuckles were choiceless. They crawled to their cars and drove down the block to SPRAWL-MART…often.

With the recession in full-swing and the national deficit spiraling further out of control, the Food and Drug Administration fell as the first of many casualties. Products like Testaroni, ManBam, Spuzzle, Thorsle, and Meatbombe flooded the shelves. Testaroni in particular contained high doses of gorilla testosterone, meth-amphetamines, and textured vegetable protein. To sleep, most Chuckles downed six packs of Coors (the official uncompromising beverage of the Romney machine).

The steady diet of misinformation and heavy drugs kept Chuckles subserviant and addicted. Their insatiable gluttony and horniness caused them to turn on one another. They slipped into further apathy toward politics and global affairs. Romney went on to win in his reelection bid of 2012. He was voted in by a largely mechanical populace, consisting of consolidated wealth.

Unofficial Chuckle civil war continued as vigilante justice replaced local police departments. Death rates were high, but birth rates ran strangely higher as Testaroni filled the gullet of every Jane and John Doe Chuckle.

Romney praised the Chuckles on television every night for their perseverance in the War on Terror — now extended to Pakistan, Iran, Egypt, and Africa. Chuckles made fantastic soldiers.

The machine — gleaming, aluminum and kevlar — smiled an ambient smile. Every detail had been taken into precise consideration. They had covertly attacked Barack’s record; long-ago discredited Dean; ignored Edwards. They didn’t stack the deck; they owned the cards.

They had thought of it all, that is, except for Raffi. A frantic Steve Jobs contacted the Canadian superstar. Free Raffi downloads sped to homes across all of Chuckland. The spell was broken. Free will returned. Mitt Romney died searching for Sarah Conner.