By DEXTER DUGGAN
Mary looked out from the stable. She was shocked that a blizzard was engulfing Bethlehem.
“Come here quickly, Joseph,” she said. “We’re apparently being buried in a snowstorm. It gets chilly here in the winter, but not like this.”
Joseph joined her, concerned that their Child might become isolated in such bad weather when He might need extra warmth or his parents need food.
He stepped outside and was nearly blinded in an ocean of white. The substance already was up to his knees, but it wasn’t making his legs colder. This was strange.
“Hey, buddy, glad to see ya,” said a voice coming down the road. “I was just about to knock on your doorpost. You are one very special fella, ya know.”
“How so?”, Joseph asked.
“Your stable is part of this inn here,” the man replied. “Not a single-family residence but a big buncha people and their animals. Voting gold!”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, we’re right in the middle of an election, and this is a ballot harvester’s dream. If we have to do the job house by house, maybe the best we can do is 30 votes per door when we count all the cats and dogs and mice casting their preference, along with maybe eight humans. Those cats sure better not eat any of the mice voters, at least until the polls close!”
“You’re saying that animals are allowed to vote around here?”, Joseph asked.
“By the gods of all the planets, you said it,” the man replied. “Haven’t you ever heard of animal rights? They’ve got as much of a stake in their welfare as any biped! It’s just that, you know, they don’t speak our lingo, so we have to interpret what they’re telling us.
“Darned if they don’t tell me to mark their ballots for our Demos Party every time, the party of the people! And, er, their animals, too,” the man continued. “That Humans-Only Party is seeing the sun set on its prejudicial exclusion of all other life forms that our Demos Party celebrates! Except, of course, useless unborn babies! We’ve got a lawsuit going right now that will bring in all the fish and insect voters, too. Jiminy Cricket is chirping to assert himself!
“By the way, buddy,” he continued, “can I mark down you and your household for about 100 votes?”
“But my wife and I don’t live here. We’ve just come for the census,” Joseph said. “We’re not in this precinct at all. And there’s no way Mary and our Child and I could account for 100 votes.”
“You’ve got to free your mind from all this limited-vision exclusivity,” the man said. “The key is diversity, diversity, diversity! We don’t care where you’re from or where you’re going. You’re under that big umbrella of our Bethlehem sky right now. And if you’re not actually a resident here, it’ll be all the harder to challenge your vote once you’ve left and no one can haul you in to testify.”
“By the way,” Joseph said, “in all this hubbub, I forgot to ask about this white we’re being buried in. It doesn’t seem to be snow.”
“Ballots, ballots, ballots being dropped off for our use,” the man replied. “Nice blank ballots so we can write in whatever the gods declare. It sure helps the Demos Party that we worship so many gods. I’m working 10 different towns right now. Unlimited opportunity!”
“Who are the candidates? What are the issues?”, Joseph asked.
“Let us take all those worries off your hands and off your mind. Just your signature, please, or anyone else’s name you care to use,” the man said. “But if it really matters to ya, Herod and Pontius Pilate are running.”
“And who else are the candidates?” Joseph asked.
“Just them. We call it a split ticket. Herod is running for half of all the offices, and Pontius Pilate is running for the other half.”
“But surely two men can’t do all those offices’ work?”
“All that matters,” the man said, “is that they win the offices and can claim the salaries. Work, schmerk! It all comes out okay as long as no busybody Humans-Only Party bigots try to snoop around about how we Demos Party people get by. Princess Nanzee and King Zabidin rule just fine without all this law-and-order nonsense.
“Now let’s see,” the man continued. “I see you got a baby. Now one day he’s gonna get married and maybe have five kids, so right off the bat he and his future wife and five kids are good for seven votes for this week. And we’re still in the early voting period, so they’re also good for seven votes for next week. And they’re also gonna have pets, who better not eat any mice voters.
“And that stableboy in the corner, I don’t foresee a solid family life for him, so probably three or four wives anyway, and 15 kids, maybe a few birds and spiders — keep your beaks off those spider voters, you cannibal birds! — and now I gotta start going down the halls of the inn. I sense about 10,000 votes under this roof. Our Demos Party is so proud of its inclusiveness and diversity!
“And when we protect the forest, that means wooden rights,” the man said. “This old inn must have a few beams and lintels deserving to be heard. Each creak and groan has to be interpreted — correctly, of course. Say, can I get you busy with your signatures now? Please just make sure to use different names each time.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing in my life,” Joseph exclaimed. “I know there are sins among both the high and low. That’s what the King of the Universe commanded Moses to warn us about. But your Demos Party is unbelievably corrupt!”
“So what are you gonna do about it?”, the man asked. “I guess you’re gonna tell me your little baby there is gonna rise up and change everything?”
“A man who can get 10,000 votes out of one inn shouldn’t be surprised at what a baby might do,” Joseph replied. “In fact, I’ve received a message that our Child’s presence is needed to raise the moral tone in Maricopa County, Arizona. Could you tell me which road to get there?”
“Sure enough, buddy. I’ve just spent a lot of time there collecting the votes of the cactuses. Wow, those saguaros sure are upstanding citizens. I got a lot of hospitality from the Maricopa Supervisor Gates and Recorder Richer, so glad to welcome me. Our Demos Party has a bright future there. Here’s a map.”
“Thank you,” Joseph said. “I bid you a good evening, sir. Mary, let’s pack up and go. I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon — unless our friend here has already filled it to the top with ballots.”
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