On stage, the villain approaches the podium and opens an ancient scroll. “I'm so honored,” he begins, “to win tonight. Truly, I don't know what to say.” Rats scurry out of his pockets. “I don't know where to begin,” he continues. A lizard tips over his top hat and crawls down his chest. “My father always told me,” he says, “that I'd become a knuckle.” He smiles and juggles cartons of cigarettes. “If only he could see me now.” The lights on stage brighten and we see the podium is surrounded by dead crows. Loose feathers. Signs to vote coat their beaks. The ancient scroll wrinkles, crinkles, and burns. The power breaks. The villain lights a candle only to blow it out.