It was her worst nightmare. She was the first

It was her worst nightmare. She was the first woman president in US history. She was also a germaphobe. The campaign had almost killed her, now 4 years of this? She called

the president of Purel, a close friend from her days in experimental subliminal marketing, and ordered an extra large supply. No matter that she was eroding her immune system,

she loved slathering herself with the stuff. She also loved the feeling of it evaporating off her thighs. So what if her life expectancy fell by a few months or years, she

loved the feel of gulf coast tar balls on her skin. To hell with the other emollients that were hawked at CVS, this was

a defining moment in her life! As she reached for the name brand emollient of her choice, she felt a blunt object strike the back of her head.

Suzie Chapstick was on a killing spree. She took another swing with the ski pole and killed her quarry. Then she went the Elmo costumed instructor. Who's laughing now, bastard!

She tickled Elmo like a Tickle Me Elmo had never been tickled before, and by 'tickled' I of course mean 'slaughtered'. She raised Elmo's head above her in victory just as Bert

would have done, had he been there. Looking down at the chaos she had created, she burst into tears. What had become of her? As she sobbed, a huge yellow-feathered creature whisked

her into a large pumpkin with four white mice as footmen.'What the ...?' she thought. Why would I want to sit in a large smelly vegetable surrounded by rodents? Then she remembered

how bad it was outside the pumpkin. It was much worse. Somehow, I must preserve this pumpkin. This is my world. Some have bubbles, I have a pumpkin.