Sticker In The Front…

Hey, Oteil. Y’got something on your face.

“Democracy?”

In sticker form, yeah.

“Gotta represent! Big election this year, man. Everybody’s got to make their voices heard.”

Yeah, but we both made our voices heard in Florida.

“I thought it would be closer. Seemed like it would.”

We live in a rather unrepresentative portion of the Sunshine State.

“Oh, yeah. You ever been up north here?”

Not to stop. Just drove through.

“Good idea. Don’t get out of the car up there. One time, I was in a town called Sweatytoes. Whole place was related to itself. They had children that were made out of necks. Nothin’ but neck! I can’t even imagine how many generations of close-breeding it takes to get a result like that. Downright unseemly, man.”

I can imagine.

“Not as bad as The Villages, though. That place freaked me out.”

Why were you in The Villages?

“They got a little theater up there that booked Oteil & Friends. First, there was a fistfight over who was gonna give me the tour. You know, they all got these tricked-out golf carts. It was ugly.”

I’d bet.

“So there’s a last man standing, and I get in his cart. It was an exact replica of Patton’s jeep from WWII, but with an extra motor or two jammed in the sucker. 0-60 in 4.2 seconds.”

In a golf cart?

“There’s no laws in The Villages! I think we ran some people over.”

Probably.

“And then the orgies started. Did you know about that?”

They like to get their fuck on in The Villages.

“It’s just wrinkled perversity!”

Weird place.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna stay down here in SoFla.”

Our little blue heaven.

“You said it.”