#5- The End post

I woke up this morning as usual; waterfall of drool onto my pillow, and my hair looked like it was caught in a positively charged hurricane. I got up to flick the tv on and bam:

I forgot today was election day.

Soon, after a cold and fast shower, I called my campaigners and they brought their signs and best faces over within the hour. We went into town into the park where Ted, Marge, and Pascal (honestly, what is with that boy's mother????) had already set up tents and displays that I considered signs of desperation. There was pictures of Marge holding a puppy and cutting the ribbon on her hometown's new (at the time) pet center. LAME! Well, the puppy was cute but for real?

Me and my crew set up our little table and our signs (both new and old at right on the page- aren't they cool?) and tried to stay happy and positive. My own little pet fish, Captain Mondo Poof and Noob had my little stickers on their fish bowls. They weren't as cool and intimidating as Pascal's chinchilla Carlos, but they were close. I thought I had a lame shot, but like my main man Machiavelli, I acted like a prince.

After many hours of standing and smiling, the polls closed. It was about 8 or 9 when I got home, and I was tired. But my campaign crew was like 'PARTY TIL THE RESULTS ARE IN!!!!!!!!'

Let me tell you, I would have rather had a billion harpies scream and thorw leeches at me then have to throw a party for 48 hours. But somehow I did, and that was a lot of publicity- way to get a lot of people to like me AFTER the voting. I got the call around 6 that evening, and everyone stopped in their tracks and the dj stopped playing Lady GaGa.

The results:

Pascal: 11%
Marge: 9%
Ted: 20%
Me: 60%

I won. I am mayor of New Sooshire! How that polling and voting and went I have no idea, but I won!!!!

And it's all thanks to that big dog Machiavelli.

#4

Today's the day, my blog readers! I have tucked the Prince into my briefcase for good luck. I also tabbed a few pages to quote, and even got my hair done up all nice. Mom even came from New Coast Townlandville to teach me how to iron a blouse! It's the press conference against my competition (who told me I should call them Ted, Marge, and Pascal. What kind of name is Pascal, anyways?) They had us nervously sit and wait for the presses in a room full of tiny cups of cucumber water and sliced melon. I could barely even move, nevermind answer questions from WMCI and KWSOOS. They're my favorite news channels and I didn't know really what to say. My advice group told me to never pause, never stop smiling, and never clear your throat into the mic. So I sat there like the dang Mona Lisa for an hour and a half. I remembered something from chapter 18; be a fox and a lion! Foxes can recognize 'speedbumps' as I call them so cleverly; and lions can take them down. So I loked down the row of speedbumps to my sides and smiled.

They didn't read this win of a book. They don't stand a chance against a prince. But a prince is also humble!

And, at that point through the conference, I choked on an earlier devoured piece of melon.

#3

So today I read up a little on chapter 23. When I first looked at the title I was like, so shunning someone is flattering? I was SOOOOO confused 'cause I didn't want to shun Raylee if it was flattering her. I sat there for ten minutes when I started reading and realized that after a bit of fluff inbetween the lines, it says that I should have a group of people to ask for advice to or whatever. I just stumbled over my words, but that's not the point. Point is, I rounded up a group of the smartest people I know and asked them what I should do about Raylee abandoning my campaign. They said that it's just one person, and that I have more than one person helping me, and I should make sure they stay. Then I told them they aren't supposed to tell me what to do unless I ask (in a rather snappy tone), then they all nervously mumbled and left.

After that weird escapade, I decided to go get a different group because they sucked. Their advice was good but they were creepers. SO once I got them together, I asked them what they think I should do about my stupid traitor. They said to attack her campaign with rotten mushrooms and then I nervously mumbled and left. Then I realized I left them in my house, so I turned, walked back in, and pointed to the door. After the nutbags were gone, I read the Prince again, and it basically said that only I can decide what to do.

So I decided to make sure the rest of my peanut gallery stuck around by treating them a little better. Now I have to decide what to do at the press conference tomorrow.

Good night!