Democracy Bros

The Democracy Bros get their quest

George's POV

I want to be dead again.

The afterlife was amazing! All the food you could imagine, mansions, and as an added bonus, I got to have lunch with Jesus every Saturday!

But then some creepy ominous voice told me I have to "save America from the wrath of Trump!" But I didn't want to! America was doing great when I was alive! And who was this Trump fellow? Sounded like a douche to me. 

The creepy ominous voice told me that I would be aided on my journey by a chap named Abraham Lincoln, who became president a while after I passed away. So, I sat here in the Lounge of Jesus's mansion, waiting for Abraham. 

Five minutes later, Jesus exited a room, his hand on the shoulder of a man about my age with a neck beard(ugh, I hate neckbeards!) "Well," Jesus said. "You guys should probably leave for Earth if you're gonna stop this Trump guy."

"Of course, Jesus. Thanks for the food," Abraham nodded. He looked at me expectantly. "Should we take the elevator, or...?"

"The elevator's out of order," I said as Jesus left with a final wave. "We'll have to take Nyan Cat."

Nyan Cat was this huge Pop-Tart/cat thing that was constantly pissing rainbows. He was nice enough, but, God, riding on his back was not good for my digestive track.

I clung to Nyan's pop-tart fur. I needed a paper bag. Abraham wasn't looking too good himself and he was clutching his hat so tight his fingers were white.

After three dreadful hours of flying, Nyan set us gently on the sweet, soft ground of Earth and flew back to Heaven. I stood up shakily. "So... what now?" I asked.

Abe replied as he got to his feet, "The creepy ominous voice said to gather information about Trump from something called "The Ragamuffin."

Ragamuffin? "Doesn't that mean a kid who wears dirty clothes?" I inquired. "There probably lots of kids who call themselves Ragamuffin to make themselves sound cool!"

"Yeah, probably," Abe sighed. "But first, we should probably find a place to stay. Where are we anyway?"

I looked around for a newspaper stand. Even though the ominous voice had told me about how the Earth had changed, I still found myself gazing in wonder at the... the... what were they called again? Skyscrapers. My gaze fell on a billboard that advertised some guy named Jerry and his law firm, "the greatest in New York." 

"New York, huh?" Abe said as he saw me looking at the billboard. "I sure could go for some hot dogs right now." I was hungry, too. After a few tiring minutes of searching, we found a hot-dog stand, paid with the money we found in the backpacks Jesus gave us and ate to our hearts' content. 

A thought suddenly stuck me. What if the Ragamuffin was a food stand, or something? I burped, then addressed the hot dog vendor. "Excuse me, sir? Is there, by any chance, a muffin shop called the Ragamuffin around here?"

"Oh, yeah!" the vendor answered. "Right down the street, man. Try their Bacon Muffins, they're the most 'Murican food to exist!"

I thanked him and dragged Abe away from his twelfth hot dog. There it was, the Ragamuffin Pastry Shop.  Abe and I patiently waited in line. When we got to the front, I whispered to the cashier, "Hey, we're here on the ominous voice's behalf."

She looked at me blankly. "Ominous voice?"

"Yeah, yeah, him," I said. "He told us to come here to get info about Trump." 

"Uh, sir, I'm not sure what you're--"

I slipped her a dollar bill. "Come on, don't play dumb!" I hissed. The people in the line were getting impatient. "Here, you want more money? Have a five, ten, or a twenty! Just tell us about--"

"What's going on here, Miss Lane?" A voice said. A woman of about thirty-five years was standing next to the cashier.

"These guys are wacko, ma'am! They're going on about a strange voice--"

"An ominous voice! Not strange!" Abe cut off.

"Whatever." The girl rolled her eyes. "And, they're talking about... Trump?"

The woman's eyes widened. She looked at us with suspicion. "Miss Lane, how'd you like the day off?"

The cashier's face brightened. "The whole day?" she said eagerly.

The woman nodded. "Yup. I'll have Rory cover for you, and I'll take care of these guys for you. Now, get going!" The cashier grabbed a bag next to her on the floor and skipped out the door.

The woman turned to face us. "Sorry about that," she sighed. "Now, you were saying the ominous voice sent you?"

"Yes," Abe nodded solemnly. "I promise, and I can't tell lies, 'cause I'm Abraham Linc--!" 

The woman smacked a hand over his mouth. "Not in public! People will think you're insane! Follow me," she gestured to a door in the corner of the room. "Hey, Rory, get your ass over here, please!We got customers waiting!" she called to a gangly, acne- plagued teen cleaning tables.

She pushed open the door and motion for us to enter.