September 28, 2016
“Alright, now that we’ve developed a platform, we need to come up with a slogan,” Lucy said, tapping her fingers on the table.
“What?” Jacob said, confused. “I don’t remember coming up with any platform. Or really, even having a coherent political thought, for that matter.”
“I did it last night.”
“Where was I while you were coming up with my opinions?”
“Sitting on a barstool, drinking.”
“See? That’s leadership,” Jacob said, clapping his hands. “I effectively made sure that everyone was doing what they were best at. Put that down for your slogan.”
Lucy shook her head. “What? Stanton 2016: He can sit on a barstool and drink?”
“I’d vote for him,” Rock said.
“Right. The competition may be weak this year, but it’s not that weak. I was thinking something catchy, like an acronym or something. Something short, concise, and easy to remember. Some word or phrase that summarizes what our candidate is all about.”
Jacob and Rock thought for a moment. Suddenly, Rock sat up, as if he’d had an idea. “I’ve got it. Beer.”
“Yeah, beer. It’s awesome.”
Lucy stared at Rock expectantly and shook her head. “How is beer a good political slogan?”
“It’s an acronym.”
“Really? What’s it mean?”
Rock paused. “Wake the fuck up, see what’s going on, and vote Stanton.”
“Wow. You are really bad at acronyms,” Lucy said.
“Well, I don’t really know what an acronym is.”
“Clearly. Look, do you guys have any ideas, or am I going to have to do this myself?”
Jacob thought for a moment. “Vote Stanton. If Hillary isn’t good enough for Bill, she isn’t good enough for America.”
“What about Trump?”
“No fat dicks. See, it’s clever, because it’s like no fat chicks, but with dudes.”
“I got it.”
“It will appeal to feminists.”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know. By reducing men to sex objects? Feminism seems to be all about how turnaround is fair play.”
“Are you sure, Jacob? Until a week ago, you didn’t even know what feminism was. Are you sure it’s not just that you wanted to make a fat joke?”
“It’s not about that,” Jacob said defensively. He sighed. “It’s partially about that. But only partially.”
“Really? What’s the other part of it?”
“I’m not that creative and couldn’t think of anything else.”
“Right. We’re not going with either of those things.”
“Why not? Because they are both clearly below the belt, and will only serve to alienate the people you are trying to attract.”
“No, no, no, it’s okay. The attacks may be unfair and below the belt, but it’s alright because I don’t agree with their political views,” Jacob explained. “If I’ve learned one thing from watching Jon Stewart and other late night comics, it’s that it’s okay to treat people unfairly and attack them personally if you disagree with them politically.”
“Right. We aren’t going with that. Come up with something else.”
“Lucy, I have to insist,” Jacob said. “It’s my campaign, and I’m standing by my slogan.”
“You’re standing by ‘no fat dicks’?”
“It works on so many levels, and at the end of the day, it’s the principle of the thing.”
Lucy shook her head, rightfully confused. “What principle?”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought that was just something people said when arbitrarily standing by something stupid.”
“How about Stanton: He’s more drunk than terrible,” Rock suggested.
“Stanton: He knows how to shut up,” Lucy chimed in.
“Stanton: He only gave crystal meth to children that one time,” Jacob added.
“What? I’m not sure that’s something we should be emphasizing. In fact, it seems like one of those skeletons in the closet we should probably address.”
“No, no, it’s cool. There were extenuating circumstances.”
“What extenuating circumstances could there possibly be?”
“I was trying to fuck one of them, and I thought she’d be easier if she were insanely high.”
Lucy shook her head. “We’re going to scrap that last one. But I think we may be making progress. We’ll take ten minutes then reconvene.”