{Guest blogging by NotDeskmerc}
Welcome boys and girls, to Election Year Bedtime Story Hour. Today, we're going to tell a frightening story, but remember: it's only pretend; there's no reason to be afraid.
Let us consider a hypothetical circumstance.
Let us consider the remote and altogether unreasonable possibility that there could be a person who, at one point, sought out… shall we say… professional female companionship of the extremely unconventional sort. By unconventional, we do not mean politically incorrect, but something much more fitting for whimsical creative writing… oh… let’s just say that, for argument’s sake, it’s a «i»death fetish«/i», and leave it at that.
(Now, now... don't ask us how we thought of something that twisted, Billy. We didn't.)
Let us also consider the equally fascinating, but thoroughly impossible idea that this individual was a rather prominent member of a certain major metropolitan legal community.
This would be, of course, ridiculous to consider – the very «i»idea!«/i» – but this is merely a thought exercise, so bear with me.
Now, as we peer into the kaleidoscope of the preposterous, let us imagine that this individual’s reputation in both matters ran toward the… notorious? Is that too strong a word? Flagrant, maybe? But this fictional character in our imaginary world was quite fastidious at keeping both realms of notoriety separated from one another…
And then, just for fun, let’s interject campaign finance reform, requiring that all contributions be publicly published. On the Internet.
The two worlds were bound to collide.
Now that we have set this fanciful stage for you, and we watch our little play carried out to its most outlandish ends.... we would find ourselves faced with the surprising correlation between this (completely fictional) debased, perverse necrosexual lawyer, and funding for a certain presidential candidate whose name sounds like Prawn Fairy.
However, what would really bake your noodle – as all good fiction ought to – we come upon a surprise twist ending wherein we discover that he paid more for one night of fetish indulgence than his entire legally maximum Fairy campaign contribution. That would be a great story, wouldn’t it?
But this is mere fable, and should not be dwelled upon, nor should it influence your opinion of John Kerry as a presidential candidate, to whom this story is not related in any way.
The End.
All characters in this story our fictional. Any similarity to real persons living or, uh … dead, is purely…(ahem)… coincidental.
This story has been brought to you by the letter D, and the number 3.