Scene:In a hotel room in Nyman, DC. Two men seated around a table, one looking at an iPad.
TF: Are you certain these numbers are right?
(TF passes the iPad to the other man who puts it down without looking at it.)
Campaign Advisor: They are unofficial, and they aren't final. Right now we have you coming in third with a small but comfortable margin over Governor Oakvale in fourth. That could easily change, and we haven't had anyone do any checking as to whether the people casting ballots are even on the voter list, let alone eligible to vote. We're also assuming that none of the write-in votes will even be counted.
TF: This isn't going how I thought it would. It's obvious a lot of people aren't voting based on party labels, not that I'm complaining given how it's benefiting me.
Advisor: True. If those people who had first preffed Shua had second preffed Cocaine Guy instead of you...
TF: (interjecting) And don't forget his pulling an HTMLdon by not giving himself his own first pref.
Advisor: You don't suppose...
TF: (interjecting vehemently) Not you too! We've got far too many people ready to cry "Sock!" as soon as one little quirk vaguely reminds them of what someone else does. ... Besides, even if I thought HTMLdon would create a sock, he wouldn't have even given himself any preference, let alone a second preference.
We need you, with your writing skills, more on what-if, rather than in Senate, dude.
