O.K., so, check it out. Indians totally aren't big on, like, elections and shit, right? 'cause, whoever wins, the Indians totally lose. Ain't never been no "President Red Cloud" or "the Distinguished Gentleman from Rosebud Reservation," right?
Anyway, long time ago, the dogs all decide to get together and elect a president, get some shit done. So, they all gather together, like a little doggie Continental Congress, and one dog is like: "I nominate the bulldog; he totally whoops ass!"
And some other dog is all, "Fuck that! He's a tough mutherfucker, but slow as shit. I nominate the greyhound, 'cause he's fast as shit."
"But once he catches someone, he can't do shit," another dog said, "he's a fucking pussy. All he's good for his hauling ass in the other direction!"
Totally fucking clusterfuck ensues, major argument, everyone barking at everyone else. Then some ugly little mutt jumps up and yells "Hey! Hey! I fucking nominate whichever dog smells the best under his tail!"
And some other homely littler fucking mutt barks, "I second the motion!"
And then all the dogs quiet down and start sniffing each other's butts, and it's all "Damn! That's a stink, yo!"
"Whew, baby! This guy ain't no presidential ass!"
"Goddamn what a fucking stench!"
"Fuck! This mutherfucker sure as hell ain't my goddam candidate!"
And, to this very mutherfuckin' day, they're still at it. Go on a walk, go to a park, and every dog you see is smelling under all the other dogs' tails, looking for their president: the dog whose ass don't stink.
So, clue that, 'cause that's what we're doin' in the booth, kids: trying to find a dog whose ass doesn't stink.
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