After finishing up the day’s television interviews, Fox said to himself: “I will ask the other Republican animals. Surely one of them knows the answer to this problem.”
Fox set out to find someone who could tell him how things had gone so wrong. It didn’t take long before he saw Grumpy Goose, who was conveniently wrapping up another television interview downstairs from his own studio. He asked Grumpy Goose: “Do you know who told our voters to not vote by mail?”
Grumpy Goose nodded. “Oh, it was everyone. Or not everyone, but a lot of animals did. At the very top of the Republican Party.” That was not a very satisfying answer, but Grumpy Goose very seldom gave satisfying answers so Fox knew he would have to continue his search. At least Grumpy Goose gave him a clue: It must be someone at the top of the Republican Party who was responsible!
Fox set out to find somebody who was close to the top of the Republican Party. Fox already knew the way to Republican Party headquarters, but it was still an arduous journey. Fox had to travel through no less than three no-go zones before he reached his destination. There, in the Big Tent of Republicanism, he found Salty Squirrel picking through old documents, disposing of any that had turned out to be authored by criminals.
Fox wasted no time in asking his question. “Salty Squirrel, do you know who has been telling our Republican voters they shouldn’t vote early or by mail?”
Salty Squirrel looked up from her work. “Hmm. I would say there were many who said that,” she announced in an authoritative voice.
“But who was it?” asked Fox again. “I would like to talk to them but don’t know who to talk to.”
The squirrel narrowed her eyes. “There were many,” she said somewhat coldly. Then she turned away, refusing to answer any further questions. In fairness, she had quite a lot of work to do!
This left Fox in a lurch. He knew somebody was sabotaging Republican turnout efforts by discouraging Republicans from voting early or by mail, but even the animal who was in charge of knowing the most about the Republican Party was not willing to tell him who was behind such a scheme. What could he do?
After thinking for a long time, which was not something Fox did often and which turned out to be even more tiring than traveling through three no-go zones, Fox decided that asking Salty Squirrel for answers was like pissing into the wind. Now he felt silly for even trying. “The Big Tent isn’t where I can get answers to a question like this. I will go to those with the most actual power in the Republican Party, for surely they will know more than the paper-pushers here.”
Several more no-go zones later, he arrived at the United States Capitol. Fox was of course escorted into the building with little fuss, since everyone there knew he was Important. Here, at the very seat of power, somebody would know the answer to his question.
Fox asked Taciturn Turtle: “Do you know who told our Republican voters they shouldn’t vote early or by mail?” But Taciturn Turtle said nothing.
“I probably should have expected that,” Fox thought to himself.
“Recalcitrant Raccoon, do you know?” Fox asked. Raccoon looked startled.
“I am not familiar with that issue or event,” said Raccoon.
Fox asked Sequestered Salamander. “Do you know?”
“I am not familiar with this outside world you speak of,” replied Salamander. “In fact I have never once even left my office.” Salamander was not actually in his office when he said this, Fox noted, but Salamander spoke with such certainty that Fox could think of no suitable reply.
He turned to Histrionic Hippo. “Do you know who told our voters they shouldn’t vote by mail?”
But Hippo turned away from him without speaking. Instead, Hippo opened a nearby door and began using it to slam his head, over and over, between the door and its sturdy frame. Squish! Squoosh! Sploot! The sounds were so loud that Fox could not even repeat his question.
“My goodness,” said Fox. “Am I the only one who thinks this problem is important?” He backed away, knowing hippos to be unpredictable creatures even when they were not attempting to tenderize their own heads.
“Do you know who has been telling our voters not to vote early?” he asked Pedantic Pelican. But Pedantic Pelican instead threw himself onto the Capitol subway tracks. A spray of blood and feathers went everywhere as an oncoming tram popped Pelican’s body like a just-ripe grape. Splash!
“Holy hell,” Fox said out loud. He could say that because he was not on television at the moment, but in truth he said it plenty of times when he was on television too so it didn’t matter very much. “Holy hell,” he said again.
He asked his question to Insufferable Iguana, who was still looking in horror at Pelican’s severed still-twitching bird legs. Instead of answering, though, Iguana scurried to a nearby wall and stuck his fleshy iguana tongue into an electrical socket. Zap! Iguana’s flesh sizzled! But Fox’s question was left unanswered.
“Does nobody here know who has been misleading our own voters into believing they should not vote early or by mail?” he cried out.
Racist Rat would not answer either, instead choosing to jump between Asshole Alligator’s jaws and down his stinky reptile throat. Asshole Alligator did not answer, instead fleeing into the sewer systems where he would go on to raise an alligator family and control three separate hedge funds. Partisan Parrot stuffed himself through a nearby mail slot. Bothsides Bunny ripped his one of his sturdy hind feet off, shoving it down his own throat. Filibuster Ferret touched fentanyl, which caused him to explode.
“Holy fucking hell,” said Fox. “This is not at all a children’s story. I had better make sure it is banned from school libraries.”
In the end, Fox could find nobody willing to answer his question. Nobody in the Republican Big Tent or among the important animals of the Capitol knew which Republicans had been telling Republican voters they should not vote early or vote by mail. He left the Capitol with the smell of Iguana’s burning flesh, which smelled like chicken, still strong in his nose.
The Republican Party would be in trouble if nobody could figure out who was so efficiently sabotaging Republican turnout efforts. Fox wandered slowly home, still dazed and very depressed. Tomorrow he had to go on television again, and now he was worried that if he asked the question on camera then his show would be banned from school libraries too.
“Fuck that,” Fox said to himself with sudden resolve. This was not an issue important enough to risk television ratings over, and so Fox decided to never speak of this again.
