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"Welcome to 'Let's Be Frank'! I'm your host, Frank Floyd. Today's guest is... Well, you can go ahead and introduce yourself."

"Hi. My name's Ronald Freeweeber. I'm recovering from years of downward spiraling. Every day is a new blessing from God. It's really quite miraculous how people can just do their own radio shows today."

"Did you hear that! 'Radio show'!" Frank pressed a key on his keyboard, and canned laughter played. "We got ourselves a jan-you-wine boomer on today's show! Sponsored by Beast Brew 1000! But my favorite flavor is, and always will be... Beast Brew 666!" Ronald's nose wrinkled at that number.

The podcast went on like that, with Ronald bouncing between crippling depression ("Nancy was my entire world.") and hopeful optimism ("As it says in the Book of John, Chapter 14, Verse 27: 'Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.'") while Frank shilled for his one sponsor, a local soda company whose gimmick was having a thousand different flavors, six of which were randomly selected in your package.

Frank eventually turned to the main topic of his podcast: American politics.

"Ronald, from what you told us of your background, you're practically an Iceman."

"Iceman?"

"Yeah. You said everything after 2001 was a blur. You were practically frozen in a block of ice, the world's changed so much since then."

"Everyone's got carphones now, and they can take them anywhere."

Frank laughed. "Carphones that they can take anywhere, and listen to this 'radio station' whenever, wherever! You've got such a unique perspective of the world, Ronald. Let's do a lightning round to see what you know about the politics of today's 201X, and the stuff in between 2001 and now. Let's do names! I'll say a name, and you say what you think of them."

"Sounds fun."

"Hillary Clinton."

Ronald paused for a moment, as conflicting memories appeared in his mind. Ronald's daughter, Hilly Freeweeber, was his angel. He could see her in Heaven right now, face just as youthful and pretty as the day she was born. Holding hands with his wife Nancy, each one with a pair of angelic wings and haloes bright as the sun. Hilly Freeweeber was the perfect child.

Hillary Rodham Clinton, from what he could remember in the haze of his years of torment, was going to doom the country if she was elected. He heard this on the occasional talk radio show in the camp at I-5, all the junkies sitting around and listening to some angry man talking about the evils that the Democrats were responsible for. She was part of a secret ring of bloodsucking pedophiles. She worked with Barack Hussein Obama the Third, the Kenyan man who spent eight years making the country worse every day. And when will we ever know the truth about Benghazi?

And her husband was lower than filth, besmirching the Presidency with scandalous, lewd behavior and then lying about it. If Hillary had been a better wife, maybe it never would have happened.

"Ronnie? Hill-luhh-reeee. Cliiiintawwwwn. Don't worry, we'll edit this dead air out, but say your thoughts on her."

"O-oh. She's a no-good Democrat."

"That's all? Come on. Say something people want to hear, something spicy!"

Ronald's lips curled downward. He tried to summon the furor of a talk radio host, but he just couldn't. He settled for disgust.

"She would've been the worst President in history! No qualifications. No charisma. And maybe if she was a better wife, her husband never would have had to go behind her back and stain the Oval Office with the worst scandal in American history!"

"Real interesting, Ronald."

The conversation continued like this. Critical Race Theory? Liberal brainwashing from scumbag universities run by perverts. Why were there liberal arts, but no conservative arts?

"Vaccinations?"

"They cause autism and are filled with dangerous mind-control microchips."

"Abortion?"

"The Supreme Court will some day overturn Roe v. Wade."

"Immigrants?"

Ronald paused for a second. "I hear that's a hot-button issue these days. Stuff about, uh... Caravans?"

"You betcha. But once we build that wall and make Mexico pay for it, everything will be alright."

"Thought you said you weren't too plugged into today's politics."

"Well, I never actively followed it. But *everyone* I knew while I was on the lam was talking about, Trump this, Trump that. Every single day they'd talk about these, uh, telegram-like things he was sending."

"Tweets. From Twitter."

"Yeah, those things. I don't know how it works or what it is, but you'd see on the news, hear on the radio, that the President-Elect was saying this or that. Stuff that everybody thinks, but never says out loud." Ronald paused for a moment. "A man of real intellectual courage."