In Persuasion Nation

The members of the orange/Grammy/man-briefly involvedwith-a-Ding-Dong/piles-of-mush/penisless-man coalition drag the remains of the members of the Ding-Dong/Doritos/Timmy/ grandparents-who-love-Doritos/Kevin/Slap-of-Wack coalition outside, and bury them in a shallow mass grave.

Then they leave the area, a little sick at what they have done, especially the orange, who several times becomes so distraught it stops rolling altogether, and must be picked up and hurled down the path by Jim the penisless man, who, turns out, has a very good arm.

7

One torn green triangular corner of the murdered Slap-ofWack bar blows across the desert, eventually coming to rest in a cactus.

Pa

Over the next few hours, its breathing stabilizes. It is alive. It will live.

Stuck in the cactus hour after hour, day after day, full of shame and rage, the ton corner has a series of deep spiritual realizations concerning the true nature of that supreme power which brought it and everyone else and everything it has ever known into existence, and is the sole reason for their continued existence.

What does this power want?

It doesn't know. How could it know that? It is just a torn corner.

But surely there is a plan at work. It can feel it. They are born into vignettes, and these vignettes are their homes. These vignettes are what give their lives meaning. If they were not intended to do their vignettes in exactly the way they do them, why would they tel so strongly inclined to do them in that exact way? Therefore, the way to live righteously is to enact one's vignette with as much energy as possible, and oppose, as fiercely as possible, those who would undercut the proper enactment of the sacred vignettes. This is one way-perhaps the only way-or a lowly being such as itself to be in touch with the supreme power.

Take me, it prays, humble me, make me more open to your purpose.

Suddenly it feels a great surge of power, filling it, changing it, and its former identity as the mere corner of a Slap-ofWack bar is all but forgotten, subsumed in this new and greater identity.

Over the next week, via constant prayer, the corner more than quadruples in size, and begins to subtly glow, while attempting to free itself from the cactus via a series of energetic forceful shrugs, each of which leaves it utterly exhausted.

Finally it is free, and falls to the ground.

After several days of being blown around indiscriminately by the wind, the corner learns to adjust its posture in such a way that it can control its trajectory. Soon it actually learns to fly, via kind of hunching itself in the middle while simultaneously straightening its "neck."

Over the next few weeks, as it practices flying during the day and meditates on these new great truths at night, it is gradually, almost imperceptibly, transformed, from a mere green plastic-cellophane comer into a beautiful glowing oblong green triangular symbol.

8

Abe Lincoln stands giving the Gettysburg Address. Everyone is rapt, except for one guy in the front row, who keeps raising his hand and hopping up and down in his seat.

"Did you have a question, sir?" Lincoln says.

"Wendy's GrandeChickenBoatCombo," the man says.

"That's not a question," Lincoln says.

"Wendy's GrandeChickenBoatCombo?" the man says.

"I'm afraid I am unable to discern your purpose, sir," Lincoln says. "I am trying to pay tribute to the brave men who died here."

"Pay tribute to this, beardo-weirdo!" says the man, and presses a button on his chest, and suddenly is transformed into a giant GrandeChickenBoatCombo; that is, a giant synthetic chicken product shaped like a frigate, with oars made of celery, and wafer-thin nacho sails.

Then the GrandeChickenBoatCombo beats its wings and its sails and floats up around Lincoln's head, ramming his tophat off, spraying him with salsa from its Mini-Salsa Ca

"Anybody else think a great-tasting poultry-nautical treat is loads more fun than this old fuddy?" says the GrandeChickenBoatCombo.

"I do," says General Grant.

"Me too," says Harriet Tubman.

"We totally agree!" say the ghosts of several Union dead.

"Sandwiches for all!" says the GrandeChickenBoatCombo. "Great taste is what made America great!"

"Not a bunch of yappin'!" says Mrs. Lincoln.

Ca

Suddenly another ca

"Mr. President," someone says, "please continue."

As the ca

President Lincoln nods his gratitude to the coalition, shuffles through his papers, and continues.

9

The oblong green triangular symbol is finally strong enough to begin. It takes off, leaving the cactus behind, and soars between mountains, over great cities, along twisting riverbeds, until, as if drawn there by some invisible force, it arrives at the now deserted Gettysburg Battlefield. The crowd has returned to their nineteenth-century homes. Lincoln has returned to Washington. The only thing remaining on the field is the mangled corpse of the GrandeChickenBoatCombo.

The oblong green triangular symbol hovers gently above the GrandeChickenBoatCombo, sending down hundreds of thin exploratory compassionate green rays, trying to understand.

Then a shiver of pity/outrage runs through the symbol, and it speeds away.

10

The orange/Grammy/man-briefly-involved-with-a-DingDong/piles-of-mush/penisless-man coalition is crossing a vast harsh terrifying wilderness.

Suddenly, in the distance, they see a town.

At the edge of town they are met by a polar bear with an axe in his head, a puppet-boy whose lower half has been burned to a crisp, six headless working-class guys holding bottles of beer, and Voltaire, who's been given such a severe snuggie that his eyes are open wider than real eyes can possibly open.

"My God," says the orange. "What happened to you guys?"

"I broke into an Eskimo home and tried to eat their Cheetos," says the polar bear with the axe in its head.

"During my puppet show, I got too close to a BurninWarmCi

"A giant can of Raid gave me a wedgie," says Voltaire.

"Snuggie," says the puppet-boy. "A snuggie and a wedgie are two different things."

"A giant can of Raid gave me a snuggie," says Voltaire.

"And what about them?" says the orange, indicating the six headless working-class guys.

"They insulted a T. rex who just really loves Coors," says the polar bear with the axe in its head.

"Wow," says the puppet-boy. "I can't believe I'm standing here with the orange/Grammy/man-briefly-involved-with-aDing-Dong/piles-of-mush/penisless-man coalition."

"You know us?" says Grammy.

"Oh gosh, everyone knows you," says the polar bear with the axe in his head.