Following our tradition, we drank our way

Following our tradition, we drank our way through the election results. Now, after midnight, we're drunk. There's a new world starting tomorrow, so so

programmed election machines meant so-so counts which meant so-so candidate being elected and a so-so Supreme Court denying challenges which turns into a so-so economy with

"--- and that is why I turned to Scientology!" Cheers erupted in the crowded auditorium. It all made sense to them now. Hubbard was a true prophet (profit?) The next mission was to

exploit the new age mentality of vapid celebrities such as Tom Cruise and Jon Travolta-you know, mediocre talent, but popular among the stupid-and have them jump on fat ladies'

trampolines. Why did so many fat ladies have them? Tom Cruise was ok, since this was easier on his knees than Oprah's couch. Travolta wouldn't stop laughing, and Robert Pattinson

kept going "Aaaaaaargh, aaaaaargh, aaaaaaargh," every time I winked at him. Robert Pattinson obviously had issues that only I was equipped to deal with. I stroked his

ego when I winked at him again & said, "Oooooo, I just loooved you in the Twilight Series. Gooo Team Edward!" I was lying, of course.But anything that would stop Robert Pattinson

from his incessant pawing helped. "You would have been a great Harry Potter too.. far better than that ratcliff boy." Robert picked up his pencil and said "Wingardium Leviosa!" and

the pencil twirled effortlessly above his hand before writing the very last line of his first story. It was published online at FoldingStory and Rob developed a taste for more...