"Vote for Marshbaum! Get your ballot recorded early!"
On Main Street, shouting and scaring away dogs, Marshbaum was candidacy furiously, stopping almost every C word form within 30 feet of him. In one manus was a sign, "Change With Obama." In his other manus was "3 a.m. Hillary."
"You are running for President?" I asked somewhat skeptically.
"Didn't you read the signs?" asked an incredulous Marshbaum, disquieted that even a journalist could lose props that large. "I'm accepting ballots for Obama or Hillary."
"You're doing what?!"
"Accepting votes," he said matter-of-factly. "Whoever gives me the most money is the 1 I'm voting for."
"Obama and Edmund Hillary certainly aren't paying you to vote?"
"Don't be ridiculous," said Marshbaum, "they only paid electors in the Ioway caucuses. I'm after Republicans." With the Keystone State primary expected to give either Obama or Bill Clinton the concluding impulse for the Democratic nomination, Marshbaum had figured out how to supply a nefarious service and be paid for it without governmental interference, something Republicans hunger in the free marketplace economy. "If more than Republicans give me money for Obama, I'll vote for him in April. If more than give me money for Hillary, then it's wake-up clock in America, and she goes the favourite for commander-in-chief."
"Why would Republicans pay you to vote for Democrats?"
"With Bush's blessing evaluation around 18 percentage and McCain getting the nomination, the Republicans necessitate to believe they again matter-like when they could pock-mark the environment, compose unconstitutional laws, and start warfares without anyone objecting. By vote for a Democrat, like they could in Wisconsin, Ohio, and Texas, they can recover their voice."
"So, you're taking money from Republicans who aren't allowed to traverse over in Pennsylvania, and you'll vote for whichever campaigner have accumulated the most money for your scam."
"Yep." That's all he said. "Yep."
"This sounds terribly illegal."
"Are you crazy?" he asked. "It's done all the time. Every politician have his or her price. Check with the Kelvin Street lobbyists. They'll state you the going rate." I was about to hold with him, when he nailed place yet another truth. "In Chicago, dead people often voted. I believe there's some sort of secret sauce in the embalming fluid that lets it."
"That's Chicago," I said, "the cold winds harm brains, but what's it have got to make with Pennsylvania?"
"For decades, City Of Brotherly Love ward foremen rounded up drunks, deadbeats, and just about anyone who needed a few other bucks. They went into the ballot booths with them, and then paid them five vaulting horses for the-how shall I state this?-the right vote."
"I believe all that ended with a few legal challenges," I said.
"Precedent," Marshbaum said. "If there's anything legal about it, then whatever happened before is what haps next. Didn't you larn anything in Journalism School?
"Even if purchasing ballots is legal, it's calm unethical and immoral."
"How dare you impeach me of that!" he said, a sham rupture coming through his outrage. "Other politicians may take the money and double-cross their customers. One present what I state I deliver."
"Even if this is all legal and ethical-which I doubt-doesn't this overthrow the democratic process?"
"As if lobbyists, backroom deals, and a billion dollars for television advertisement political campaigns don't?"
I was about to respond, but three television photographic camera crews shoved me and two homeless person and uninsured armed combat veteran soldiers aside to acquire Marshbaum's story. Between the microphones, Marshbaum looked at me. Helium knew-and he knew that I knew-that his narrative would do web news, and garner even more than income for the Marshbaum Fund for Disingenuous Politicians, Press, and People.