What would happen if Sanders won SC?
Like I realize asking that is akin to asking "What if the sun just suddenly turned into a pumpkin the size of Texas?" but humour me.
Rodham paced back and forth across the floor of the campaign doomcastle's Executive Loft.
How could this have happened? She had been concerned, momentarily, by the failure of the electorate in Illinois. She had won, but only just, and that wasn't how things were supposed to go. Thankfully the Cult of Superdelegate had ensured she would keep the lead in almost any scenario, but now "almost" was coming to town. That sexy tart had always had a shot at Nevada, and while the heads of many treacherous campaign interns had rolled after that, it was nothing compared to the horrid reality that South Carolina was lost.
Did the American people just not understand? She's the
President, she's
supposed to win. It hadn't made any sense. Even having deployed the crown of dominion over the black vote, it seemed that Americans still lived day in and day out with nothing but the hatred of women on their minds, and had ultimately handed away the nomination to....
him. It seemed that the world wasn't quite Ready For Hillary after all. If Bill had learned to keep it in his pants twenty years ago, maybe things would have been different now. Maybe they never would have had to leave their White House at all.
After the results of South Carolina came in, she was twice betrayed by the defection of the Cult of Superdelegate, who had once sworn their blood and ballots to her name. She had everyone on board, once. She had Goldman Sachs, she had the UN Commission on Electoral Legitimacy, she even had maniac from the popular discussion platform
www.bay12forums.com. But in the end it hadn't been enough, and Sanders' seductive message of socialism had finally destroyed America.
It wasn't all bad, necessarily. At least Jeb and his fellows had all been swept away by the tide of screeching weebs that followed Trump's streak of victories on the Republican side, all crushed under the weight of a million empty Mountain Dew cans and trash waifu merchandise. Only Rand had escaped this fate, by withdrawing from the nomination and turning the tide to his favor through a new era of cryptocurrency based on a Good Boy Point exchange and simultaneous revival of the gold standard.
As for her? She had called a meeting of her entire campaign apparatus and invited them to a nice strychnine fundraiser dinner. Those who suspected or did not arrive were fed to the legion of Bill-bots, who even now stalked the blood soaked halls making corny jokes and playing saxophones fashioned from bone. The real Bill lay on the bed of the Executive Loft, now short a few gallons. She had lured him in by saying she needed his
personal comfort after the nomination. Heh. Men never change.
There was only one thing left to do now. The Bill-bots would take the campaign doomcastle and lay siege to America's nuclear arms facilities, except for a detour to Washington to get even with Barry. It was all set now, but seeing the results had proven a bad strategy in the past.
Hillary Rodham Clinton, the 45th President of the United States, climbed onto the balcony ledge, gazed upon the fiery horizon of a morning in America, and took flight.