The debate on board the Decision Pod had raged for hours.
“Some of you”, said the Unpopular Politician; “would like to rush this debate to a vote, and I say phooey!”
The Unpopular Politician was a horse’s ass. His human body had been ravaged by years of self-neglect, addiction and general prickishness, but his family was powerful, so – moments after his heart failed – his brain, spinal column, larynx and eyes were transplanted directly into a horse’s ass.
As the horse ate space hay contentedly, its tail swished over the Politician’s eyes. Puckering his horse sphincter lips, he blew it aside. “The people won’t stand for it,” he bellowed, “and I’m standing for the people!”
For emphasis, he reared up on the horse’s front legs, stomping the back legs on his desk. The sight would have been horrifically ridiculous were he the only exhibit in this chamber of freaks.
Yet this is buy cialis cheap one nightmare that often comes true. The Chiefs could no longer pretend abacojet.com order cheap viagra that they still had a shot at the playoffs. This proactive ingredient astonishingly works to improve the size of your [url= Penis [/url] in very short time, you should know that these are tall claims that cannot happen overnight cialis wholesale india and will take some time to see effects. If panic is a recurring problem, some call it a disorder. best price for tadalafil Every other politician in the house held on to their lifelong political title by staying alive, through a series of nightmarish travesties of medical science en vogue among the ruling class. They made Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ cover art as innocent as Beatrix Potter illustrations by comparison.
This was the worst Decision Session in recent memory, and, unbeknownst to the politicians, a secret vote had been conducted among the people.
As sounds of derision, boos, raspberries, nay-saying and blame-scraping filled The Great Chamber, the speaker rapped for attention to no avail, and none of them heard the sound of small charges that separated the Decision Pod from the main colony ship.
Small booster rockets aimed the Decision Pod towards a nearby sun, and while their oxygen would run out long before reaching it, the people hated them so much that nobody minded the small touch of overkill incineration would provide.