I don’t have too much interest in either party’s convention or presidential run this time around. I was into it a little in 2004, but since then a deep sense of apathy and cynicism has prevented me from giving a rat’s ass about the elections this year, and probably for the rest of my life. So instead of a watching a bunch of partisan speeches proclaiming Barack Obama to be greatest human being to grace the Earth since Jesus H. Christ, I’ve decided that I’m looking for nothing more than pure entertainment and excitement from this year’s Democratic Convention. And given the enormous scope and media coverage of such an event, the possibilities for all kinds of shenanigans are practically endless.

The convention will begin normally enough, with a bunch of Kool-Aid drinking derelicts marching down the parade route to the convention center. During some stupid chant about political feel-good nonsense like “voting for change”, a giant chasm will open up along the parade route, releasing thirty million flesh-eating locusts into the air, and the locusts will feast on their flesh. In order to quell the chaos, the military will quickly mobilize and drop sixty thousand tons of Raid on metropolitan Denver, asphyxiating everyone within three miles.

At this point, things begin to get out of hand.

With a few hundred thousand dead Coloradans and a cloud of poisonous chemicals engulfing the city, the fifty or so people who have managed thus far to survive the locusts and chemical warfare will quickly move through Denver. Their mission is to gather critical life-saving supplies: hair dryers, toothpaste, light bulbs, greeting cards, and thirty-eight copies of Evening Shade on DVD. Once their emergency supplies are safely in hand, our survivors’ outlook will begin to improve, until the Secret Service shows up to begin preparations for Obama’s acceptance speech at Invesco Field. Not willing to risk their candidate being devoured on live television by locusts, the Secret Service will cover the entire city with the world’s only known form of flesh-eating locust repellent the cheese filling from Beef-n-Cheddar Hot Pockets.

With the City safely locust-free thanks to all that cheese, politicians from across the country will begin to show up to start spewing their bullshit to our small group of survivors. What they don’t anticipate, however, is that Beef-n-Cheddar Hot Pocket filling is a favorite condiment of zombies, as they (zombies) find that the cheddar cheese is a perfect compliment to their main source of food (brains). The zombies will go largely unnoticed, snacking on delegates and volunteers here and there; after all, the people who would go to such a conventions are probably zombies anyways. However, poeple take note when one of the victims is vice-presidential candidate Joe Biden. Unfortunately, the demeanor of zombie Biden is also similar to that of regular, non-zombie Biden, no one notices until the Senator-turned-zombie Biden eats Hillary Clinton on the main stage, which is greeted with mostly cheers and applause.

Obama, watching the chaos unfold before his eyes, decides to use the events to attack his opposition, stating that Biden’s feast of Clinton is just like what is going to happen to the GOP in November, and that Biden’s political appetite is even greater than his appetite for brains. At this point, Obama begins to twitch and jerk uncontrollably, and everyone stops and stares and the bizarre spectacle. Then, suddenly, a large, ass-kicking super-robot breaks out of Obama’s skin, and in a dark and sinister voice, the evil robot says he proudly accepts his party’s nomination for President of the United States.

This just might be the most thrilling political convention since 2004.