I guess I’m what you’d call a swing voter, Jerry. I am not one to align myself with any political party. I listen to each candidate’s positions on the big issues, review their political career, that sort of thing. I voted for Democrats, and I voted for Republicans. I’m sure you remember that after eight comparatively sane, relatively progressive years, I believed it was in America’s best interest to shake things up a bit back in 2016. Really plunge into that horrifying cosmic abyss, you know?

Do I regret voting for Dread Lord Nyarlathotep the first time? Not really. I mean, who could have predicted the devastation wrought by manifesting a politically inexperienced Outer God into the Oval Office? But still, I marched into the voting booth in 2020 with a bit of egg on my face—my hideously scarred face, thanks to the ghoul plagues and bile hurricanes and whatnot—and I voted for Hastur, the Yellow King.

Now, here we are, somehow four more years down the road, and you know what? Maybe it’s the psychic maggots I can’t seem to exorcize from my brain, but I truly think we were better off under the Crawling Chaos. So yeah, I threw caution to the noxious wind and cast my ballot for Nyarlathotep. Again.

But we’re a couple of weeks post-election and… Well, hell, Jerry. Something about the Stalker Among the Stars’ unholy resummoning ritual feels sort of… weird, right?

I dunno. The Black Pharaoh just seems pretty vindictive this time around. Yeah, He was always an inhumane, callous commander-in-chief instinctually motivated by cruel subjugation—that’s what drew millions of American voters to Him in the first place. But now He’s, like, infused with a hollow malice that knows absolutely no reason, remorse, or decency? It all suddenly feels pretty damn bleak, if I’m being honest.

We’ve already seen Him clear house ahead of the Blood Coronation. Most of His previous retinue of demonic imps, sentient pustules, and death cultists have either fled to the Nethervoid or signed lucrative contracts with Fox News. These new Court of Cruelty nominations are not only more disgusting than their predecessors; they seem to be selected almost entirely based on Nyarlathotep’s incomprehensibly perverse sense of humor and contempt for humanity.

A wrestling empress for the Department of Education?

Stephen Miller?

RFK Jr. leading the FDA? Even after Cthulhu called His taste for roadkill “disgusting”?

Stephen fucking Miller?

The list just goes on. Not only that, but now it sounds like the Dread Lord plans to actually follow through with all the obscene atrocities that He vaguely promised to shy away from during the campaign. Sure, He often vowed at rallies to “smite His enemies with the fury of immeasurable agonies beyond time and space.” How was I supposed to know He considers anything still retaining a semblance of humanity one of His “enemies”? And I hate to say it, but I’m beginning to think you may be on His list, Jerry.

But I want you to know that my vote to inscribe the final chapter in Nyarlathotep’s Book of Blasphemous Prophecy wasn’t anything personal against you and yours. It’s just that the grocery bills have started to eat into our house’s discretionary funds, and you know how expensive these streaming services have gotten. Can you believe we pay that much and still have to sit through ads? It’s ridiculous.

Anyway, I heard Nyarlathotep on the Joe Rogan Podcast, and He promised that a couple of Terror Cullings would eradicate inflation forever. That’s the kind of forward-thinking I just didn’t see from the Democrats this time around.

I guess all we can do now is wait and see what happens, knowing there was nothing we could have done differently to avoid the return of a vengeful administration predicated solely on executing unspeakable, profane horrors. But if I were you, Jerry, I’d still tread a little lightly in the days of endless nights ahead.

Don’t worry about me, though. I should be fine. It’s not like the Dread Lord Nyarlathotep’s wanton cruelty would ever extend to His own constituency. That would be madness.

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