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“””Conference call all done.
Off to vote in favor of climate change!
Muh tagline.”””

This morning my pulmonologist told me my primary care doctor’s assessment of my impending slide to Glory was way premature, but he did want me to go straight home and rest.

I said NAY! NAY! DOC, I’m heading straight over to my assigned polling place and VOTE VOTE VOTE, even if it kills me, for surely my vote is special. I could see the concern in his eyes wondering if I would be continuing to add to his annuity in the future.

I coughed my way over to the poll and screeched into a handicap spot. After poking a eucalyptus cough drop up each nostril, and one between each cheek and gum, I grabbed my trusty cane, found solid purchase on the asphalt, and launched myself towards the front door.

The craftily worded screed wielding vultures viewed my magnificent manhood approaching and just as they began to raise their filled hand and attempt to catch my eye I shouted, “Q SENT ME!!”, and I laughed a tremulous laugh-SNORT as some fell down while others gave a thumbs up grinning with a winning smile.

I had brought my own ink pen from home for possibly the most important vote in my long years, and to create an heirloom to be passed forward to future, thankful generations.

I also wanted to save the county the expense of the ink used because, well, that’s just the kind of guy I am, always willing to pull my weight here in our thrifty, but proud county.

I hyperfocusedly marked the little ovals with care beside the names of those I knew would carry out God’s Plan, walked over to the optical reader, then slipped my votes inside.

Thanking the poll workers, I made my way outside and slowed half a step to hand one of the snowflakes outside, that earlier had dropped her phamplets on the ground upon hearing my thunder, two dollars wrapped with a note that read “For Tissue”.

As I approached my vehicle and reached for my keys I noticed a door open on a large black SUV across the way. A man dressed in a sharp black suit and wearing some serious black sunglasses approached, and bending over, held out his hand to shake mine, and began to speak in a sturdy voice, but low enough in volume only he, I, a drone circling high above, and the Lord could hear.

Mr. haffast, Sir, on behalf of the POTUS, Q Team, Patriots, our country, all those that have passed, are alive, and yet to be born wanted to thank you sir for your vote. Yours is the vote that has carried us across the line today winning our beautiful freedom back from those that have been for generations desperately trying to stamp out forever. Not just for America, the whole world, nay, the entire universe.

I thought for a long moment searching for words to say, then told him, “I’m keeping my ink pen”, got into my vehicle and drove towards home.

I awoke sitting in my recliner, with my wife stroking my fevered brow, and looking down, I saw my ink pen, and an oval sticker stuck to my shirt emblazedend with the American flag and the words, “I voted”.

Why yes, yes I did.