Pons: I guess we'll decide which one has a chance to be selected to be a third-party candidate for President.
Ned: Huh?
Pons: Well, Ned, you know there are two main parties now.
Ned: Yeh, there's the Pajamer Party and the Donner Party.
Pons: No, Ned. There is the Democratic Party and the Republican Party.
Ned: Yeh, I guess we's all too old fer pajamer parties.
Pons: Aren't those for girls, Ned?
Ned: I can't actual say, Pons. I got avited ta one once, when I was a tad, but no one else showed up at the cemetery.
Pons: Ah, right. Too bad.
Ned: I figured that Donner party was the one that nobody invited Rudolf the Reindeer to.
Pons: It was a group that got stranded in the snow and ended up eating people.
Ned: Well then, that's a git-tagetter Rudolf was lucky ta not git avited to. Them deers is nutso.
A limosine pulls up and two women exit. They both walk past the crowd and over near Pons and Ned.
First Woman: Greetings, Citizens. I am Loralie DeSilva. You may call me Lor'De.
Second Woman: Salam Aleikum, my friends. My name is Zora Abebe.
The two women produce portible microphones and begin debating without further ado.
Lor'de: I would like to be elected as your next president to show you how well I can rule this land. I will be the impartial judge and jury for all matters foreign and domestic. There will be no need for a constantly deadlocked congress, filled with money-grubbing derelicts marking time until they can retire and sell their classified information to the highest bidders. There will be no need for a supreme court filled with thieves and morally corrupt people hiding behind robes for a lifetime appointment. I can do all of that on my own.
CROWD: YAY!!! LORDEE!! LORDEE!! LORDEE!!
Zora: I would like to be elected as your first female black president to show you how well I can run this former slave-holder nation. I will appoint men and women to posts who will ensure reparations are paid, people not-of-color are given the short shrift they have used on minorities, and all women are freed of the bondage of being associated with beer-bellied rednecks, never-missed-a-meal primadonnas, and other elitist white infidels who have not seded authority to their superiors.
Ned: Yay!!
Pons: Uh -- Ned. I think perhaps these women are a bit too extreme for consideration as presidential nominees.
Ned: Well, sure, Pons. At least they ain't lyin' about it. Ain't tellin' the truth what's missin' nows'days?
Pons: I never realized you were so political, Ned.
Ned: I ain't got polio, Pons, though I kin say my hammies a bin hurtin' lately.
Lor'de: Wait! Aren't you Ned Nuckledd?
Ned: Yes, Ma'am.
Lor'de: You may call me Lor'de, Ned. Perhaps you could be my running mate.
Ned: Well, that there sounds okay ta me.
Zora: Wait! Aren't you Pons Maninoff?
Pons: Yes, Ma'am.
Zora: Is there any chance you have any African American blood in you?
Pons: I had transfusions of blood in the hospital a few years ago in Detroit, Michigan.
Zora: Close enough. Perhaps you could be my running mate.
Pons: You know, I think not. I do have a clone who might fill the bill though.
Zora: You have a clone?
Pons: Oh sure; they're all the rage. His name is Oscar Kilo. We call him Skar.
Zora: Close enough. Perhaps he could be my running mate.
To be continued...