School Story:
Early senior year on the night ahead of class elections, under the cloak of wicked darkness, a dozen of us devs surreptitiously tooled out to ____ Farms on motorcycles to score some just-ripened watermelons. Our executed strike was precise, uninterrupted even by the stern resistance thrown at us. Amidst taciturn ritual we devoured our spoils at the Rod and Gun Club on Half Moon Lake late into that destined night. Even later, brother dev and my campaign manager, Steve Anderson, drafted the mesmerizing platform upon which I ran as a two-term incumbent on student council. He declared it on a neatly drawn posterboard taped to the school wall near election central early the next morning: "VOTE FOR VORP. HE LIKES WATERMELON". No more powerful message has ever been sent to the populace to this day.
