So light the neighborhood trick-or-treaters on fire, gather ’round the candy buckets and enjoy these terrifying tales of horror – if you dare.
“HE’S ALIVE! HE’S ALIVE!” shouted the super PAC donor as he watched Jeb Frankenbush walk onto the debate stage.
“Or not,” he said a few hours later.
The Invisible Pataki
George Pataki, who was governor of New York from 1995 to 2006 and is currently running for president, looked down at his feet. He couldn’t see them.
He looked at his hands. They were gone, transparent, missing, invisible. He turned to look in a mirror. He couldn’t see himself at all.
He grabbed his iPad and checked the latest poll numbers. Nothing. Not a single point, not one supporter.
“Well at least that hasn’t changed,” he said.
There was something irresistible about the stranger. He smiled, revealing a sharp set of fangs, but the enthralled people in his presence felt no danger, only a sense that the creature before them was somehow more than human.
“I vant to be your president!” said the vampire with preternatural calm.
The people nodded their heads. “Be our president, yes,” they responded.
“I vant to take your Medicare!”
“Yes, yes, take our Medicare,” they murmured in unison.
“I vant to replace taxation with a system based on tithing!”
The assembled crowd looked at each other. “OK, even we have to admit that doesn’t really make sense,” they said to the mysterious stranger, who turned into a bat and flew away.
“And unless we create a no-fly zone to protect the moderate rebels, they’re just gonna get blown out of the water by Assad and the Russians,” the mummy said in his distinctive Southern drawl. “AAAAAAAARGH!”
The crowd murmured. Who was this monster, and why had it been lecturing them on foreign policy for the last hour and a half?
“Hey, mummy!” a man shouted. “We’re having a lot of trouble understanding what you’re saying, do you think you could unwrap the gauze from your face?”
The mysterious, ancient creature stared out from the stage. Was it time to reveal, after all these years, who he truly was?
Slowly, inch by inch, he removed the bandaging from his head. After a few moments he stood fully revealed to the crowd. They gasped in wonderment.
“Why it’s… wait, who is that?” asked a woman, clutching her pearls.
“I have no idea.”
“Why’s he talking like he’s running for president?”
“Anyone recognize this guy?”
“Is that Don Knotts? Hey mister, are you Don Knotts?”
The mummy sighed.
“BRAAAAINS,” the zombie groaned. “BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIINS.”
Arms out, head cocked to the side, the zombie lurched toward the panicked voters. “What does it want??” cried one man. “Why won’t it leave us alone??”
The zombie stopped in its tracks. “BRAINS!” it shouted. “Morning in America! Shining city on a hill! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall. BRAINS!”
“Oh dear god no, it’s Zombie Ronald Reagan! Run for your lives!”
The voters ran, fast as they could, but somehow the shuffling zombie followed closer and closer, until it was right on their heels.
One woman tripped and fell. Her heart beat hard, terror pulsing through her veins. Through narrow slits in her eyes, she dared to peek into the zombie’s terrifying visage, certain these were her last moments.
“Wait a second,” she cried to the others. “That’s not Zombie Ronald Reagan. It’s just Zombie Ted Cruz pretending to be Zombie Ronald Reagan.”
“Gosh darn it,” said the zombie, shuffling off in the other direction.
In deepest, darkest Iowa, Rand Paul spoke to a living room full of potential supporters. “Government is bad,” he told them. “Liberty is good. We must do whatever it takes to get government out of our lives.”
Paul looked out the window and watched as parting clouds revealed the full moon, streaming silver light across his face. He felt The Change coming on. Pain wracked his body. He quivered as every cell transformed into something different, something monstrous.
“As president, I’ll ban all abortions!” he cried.
President Donald Trump
It is January 2017, and Donald Trump is president of the United States.