Succumbing to all the pressure, and the fact that you don't have much time, you announce Steve Forbes as your running mate. However, you are finding it extremely difficult to overcome the fact that you don't like him, and he's not too fond of you either. The two of you just can't seem to agree on a single thing. If you say tomato, he says avocado. If you say the economy is the key issue in the election, he says it's health care. It's like you're the ying, and he is the yang. You don't like him because, frankly, he is unpleasant to look at, and he doesn't like you because you have more money than he does.
All throughout the campaign, all the press bothers to cover is the differences between you and Forbes. And the public is tired of hearing about the whole thing. All the polls point to President Clinton winning in a landslide. The last, bleak hope of saving your campaign is erased when at a campaign drive you introduce Forbes as the son of that crazy balloon guy, and he gets pissed and jacks you in the nose. Both your nose and your hopes of becoming president are smashed.
Election Day comes, and Clinton wins in the biggest blow-out in election history. The next day Walter Mondale calls you to thank you for taking away his one claim to fame. Your lawyer also calls to tell you that according to the will, since your presidential campaign is over, the rest of your aunt's money must now be taken away from you and given to her favorite charity, The Association for Retired Cake Decorators. As for you, the only important decision you'll be making in the near future is what color tie to wear at your job interview at McDonalds.
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